Jiang Xian followed the direction Yu Lingxin had gestured and saw Wen Zuhuan, looking as pathetic as a stray dog.
Even he was startled. Before he’d put on the blindfold, he was certain the target had been on the other side.
Yu Lingxin had already stepped forward and extended his hand to Wen Zuhuan: “Young Master Wen, are you alright?”
Wen Zuhuan finally came back to his senses. He glared at Yu Lingxin’s frowning, worried expression, slapped his hand away hard, scrambled to his feet with both hands on the ground, and shouted: “Don’t you pretend! I saw it! It was you—you did this! You! You tried to have me killed!”
Then, red-eyed, he turned to Jiang Nong: “This mongrel has been faking it! He acts all gentle and innocent in front of you, but he’s a snake in the grass! I saw him mess with Jiang Xian’s aim—that’s why the arrow came at me!”
Yu Lingxin didn’t deny it—he only looked at him with pity.
Even Jiang Xian couldn’t hold back. He walked over and said: “This was my fault. I shouldn’t have shot blindfolded. No matter how much you hate him, you can’t blame everything on him. When I shot, all he did was guide my stance—nothing else!”
“Young Master Wen is embarrassed and needs someone to blame—I understand. It’s alright. Young Master Wen has always been dissatisfied with me. As long as he’s unharmed, that’s what matters.” Yu Lingxin forced a faint smile at the crowd.
“Mongrel! Stop pretending! I’ll tear that mouth of yours apart today!” Wen Zuhuan lunged forward and shoved Yu Lingxin, sending him stumbling back.
From where Jiang Nong stood, she could see Yu Lingxin’s profile—his soft, flowing hair softening his sharp features, his downcast eyes speaking of submission.
She stepped forward and shielded him behind her: “Enough! Wen Zuhuan! Stop making trouble! Look at him—what more do you want? He’s always been gentle and obedient. Why can’t you just leave him alone? Why do you always have to pick on him? Even Jiang Xian admitted it had nothing to do with Yu Lingxin, yet you still won’t let go, trying to pin it on him. Is your heart made of iron?”
Yu Lingxin, tall as he was, shamelessly tucked himself behind Jiang Nong, lowering his head slightly to hide the corners of his mouth twitching upward. His voice carried a barely perceptible hint of tears: “It’s alright, Sister. Don’t be angry for my sake—especially on your special day. Young Master Wen may have just misremembered in his panic.”
Seeing that wretched act, Wen Zuhuan’s blood rushed to his head. All reason gone, he burst into a torrent of curses—the same crude insults, over and over.
Jiang Nong’s face went cold. She said he was clearly overwrought and, out of respect for the Marquis of Huaiyin, had him politely escorted out.
Jiang Xian stood there dumbfounded, clutching his bow, unsure what to do.
The crowd dispersed. Jiang Nong brushed off Yu Lingxin’s clothes where Wen Zuhuan had rumpled them, tidied his hair, and murmured soothingly: “It’s alright. Don’t be scared—I’m here. He won’t dare hurt you again. But why are you so obedient? You don’t fight back when people hit or curse you. You’re too easy to bully—everyone will walk all over you. You need to be a bit tougher.”
Yu Lingxin’s voice had already deepened with age, but now he deliberately slowed and softened it, letting a hint of tenderness slip through to disarm her: “I just don’t want you to worry about me, Sister. I’ve always been this way. But it’s your birthday today—I don’t want to make you unhappy.”
Jiang Nong sighed and stood on tiptoe to pat his shoulder: “That’s exactly why I worry. You don’t have a temper at all.”
Yu Lingxin thought for a moment, then broke into a smile and nodded: “Alright. I’ll listen to you, Sister. If anyone bullies me in the future, I’ll fight back.”
Jiang Nong’s heart softened.
Since her rebirth, nothing had followed the path of her past life. A single ripple had changed everything—even Lady Li had not fallen from favor, and Jiang Yuan need not walk her old road. In another three months, the time would come for choosing the candidate for the political marriage in her past life. And Yu Lingxin still seemed unchanged.
“Come, I want to show you something fun.” Jiang Nong crooked her finger at him, and he obediently followed.
Jiang Yuan was gambling with a few noble ladies—but her card skills were atrocious, and she kept losing. Xifeng stood behind her as her adviser, but before he could even instruct her, she’d already thrown her cards out in a rush. When she lost, she’d elbow Xifeng in anger.
Xifeng quietly covered her losses.
“I’m already short on money this month. Xifeng, are you useless or what? Keep this up and I’ll find someone else!”
Xifeng gently placated her: “Next time, play slower—we’ll definitely win, alright?”
Jiang Nong came over with an empty box, placed three gold nuggets inside, and gestured for Jiang Yuan to do the same.
“What are you doing?” Though puzzled, Jiang Yuan followed along.
Jiang Nong shook the box and said: “Now there are six gold nuggets in here. You just said you were short on money—how about I sell it to you for five?”
Jiang Yuan’s eyes lit up. She threw her arms around Jiang Nong: “Nongnong, you’re so good! You’re my absolute favorite sister!”
Afraid Jiang Nong would change her mind, she handed over the gold. Xifeng coughed behind her repeatedly, but couldn’t stop her.
Jiang Nong then winked at Yu Lingxin and slipped him two nuggets: “Isn’t that fun?”
Yu Lingxin lowered his head shyly, his fingertips brushing the two gold pieces, and nodded gently.
Jiang Yuan hugged the box, beaming as she looked the two of them over: “Oho, Yu Lingxin is looking much better these days! Young people shouldn’t always be so downcast. Last year I told Nongnong—you looked like a widower who’d lost his wife, so gloomy it gave me the chills. Now you look like a shy little bride. So, little bride—are you going to marry our Nongnong?”
Yu Lingxin seemed to blush.
Jiang Nong was also uncomfortable, afraid Jiang Yuan would catch on. She said “You’re absolutely right” while tugging Yu Lingxin and making a quick escape.
Xifeng closed his eyes, mentally calculating how much of his salary was left.
Less than half a month after Jiang Nong’s birthday, the Marquis of Huaiyin entered the palace to meet the emperor. Everyone assumed it was about Wen Zuhuan nearly being shot by Jiang Xian—after all, he was the marquis’s only grandson, doted on like a pearl in the palm.
But instead, the marquis came to request a marriage—to have Jiang Nong wed his grandson.
The news spread through the palace like wildfire. Everyone speculated on whether the emperor would agree.
Emperor Zhengyuan was undecided. But since Jiang Nong’s marriage now required the Empress Dowager’s approval, he held off for the moment.
Jiang Nong, of course, was unwilling. She had hit Wen Zuhuan no less than eight or ten times. Unless he was born with a taste for abuse, there was no way he truly liked her—he probably just wanted to marry her home and make her suffer.
With the Marquis of Huaiyin taking the lead, many eager nobles submitted petitions—mostly aimed at Jiang Nong. The emperor fancied a few of them, but Jiang Nong refused them all, which displeased him greatly.
In the end, all princesses had to marry. Jiang Nong had reached the right age—whoever she wed, it was still marriage. With so many nobles in the court, would choosing one from among them really be so beneath her?
Jiang Nong knew she couldn’t hold out much longer. She wrote to Chao Ning, asking how things were on his end.
Chao Ning told her to wait another two months. A marriage alliance between two kingdoms was no small matter. Things had shifted from her previous life, and he was still working behind the scenes.
Yu Lingxin, meanwhile, remained composed, carefully wiping down his sword with a cloth. Even Xunliang grew anxious.
“Your Highness, since you care for the Ninth Princess, how can you just sit still? Now that we’ve already—”
Yu Lingxin’s fingertip gently traced the sharp edge. The blade reflected his long, deep-set eyes. A trace of blood lingered on the sword—the faint sting only excited him more.
“Indeed, it’s time to go. Tell me—will she choose me, or Chao Ning?”
Xunliang said nothing. Even a fool knew Jiang Nong would choose Chao Ning. Why say it aloud and invite humiliation?
He didn’t understand. The Ninth Princess clearly had feelings for his master—all the little details proved she didn’t dislike him. There was even a hint of something between them.
He had even asked Rong Mian privately. Yu Lingxin had shown himself exactly as Jiang Nong would like—why couldn’t they take that final step?
Yu Lingxin chuckled softly, and with a sharp click, the sword slid back into its sheath: “It doesn’t matter. She will choose me. But before I leave, there’s one brute I haven’t dealt with yet.”
In April, the spring hunt arrived. Jiang Nong was still haunted by the autumn hunt, terrified Wen Zuhuan might cause trouble. She carefully warned Yu Lingxin to stay safe.
The woods were still chilly. Yu Lingxin adjusted her cloak for her: “Mm, I know. Don’t wander off alone, Sister. The wind by the water in spring can be harsh, and there are dangerous animals…” He was even more long-winded than she was, murmuring instructions for ages. Finally, he asked timidly: “Sister, could you hold my hand? I’m actually afraid of killing things. Just hold it for a moment—give me a little courage.”
Jiang Nong refused and pushed him away: “Everyone’s leaving—stop talking to me.”
Yu Lingxin looked a little crestfallen, like a puppy with its tail drooping. But he quickly cheered himself up, raised his bow from horseback, and smiled brightly at her, waving: “Sister, wait for me—I’ll bring back a catch for you.”
Sunlight spilled across Yu Lingxin’s hair and shoulders, making him shine brighter than everyone else. The tassel she’d given him hung from his bow. Jiang Nong’s heart stirred—she felt she should have let him hold her hand.
By the time she came to her senses, the hunting party had already vanished into the thick forest.
Well, Yu Lingxin is so timid and kind—if he does kill something, he’ll surely be frightened. I can reluctantly let him hold my hand then.
Jiang Nong knelt by her table, chewing her nail absently, making excuses for him.
Then she chided herself for that flutter of her heart. She shouldn’t be feeling this way.
Why is it—in two lifetimes—I still fall for the same kind of person?
It wasn’t until evening that Wen Zuhuan was carried out. He and Jiang Biao had been hunting deer together when the horse was spooked and threw Wen Zuhuan off. Jiang Biao, too cowardly to keep his nerve, accidentally loosed an arrow and struck Wen Zuhuan instead.
The others returned one by one. Jiang Nong scanned the crowd—no sign of Yu Lingxin. She urgently asked Eunuch Wei to dispatch men to search.
By nightfall, the Imperial Guard sent to search returned. Following a trail of chaotic footprints, they suspected someone had taken Yu Lingxin and his servant hostage and had already fled the capital before dark. The remaining guards were still tracking the traces; from fragments of fabric found, it appeared to be weave from Tan.
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