Perhaps feeling reassured, Empress Dowager Wen clung to Jiang Nong throughout the evening meal, leaning on her shoulder like a small child.
Empress Dowager Wen was nearly forty. Years of hard labor had left her sallow, gaunt, and scarred. Even if she had once been a beauty, now one could not help but feel repulsed at the sight of her.
She ate as restlessly as a child, spilling soup on her collar—and worse, she kept enthusiastically picking food for Jiang Nong with her chopsticks, leaving grease stains on Jiang Nong’s clothes as well.
The attendants watched nervously and hurried forward: “Allow your servants to attend to the Empress Dowager.”
Even between biological mother and daughter, few could tolerate caring for their mother with such patience—let alone a daughter-in-law with no blood relation. Most daughters-in-law performed their filial piety and virtue only for show. And since His Majesty had been separated from his mother for years and shared no close bond with her, how could the Empress—raised in luxury and comfort since childhood—endure such indignities?
Though Empress Dowager Wen’s mind was that of a child, she could still read the room. She immediately fell silent and pressed tightly against Jiang Nong, terrified of being separated from her.
Jiang Nong patted her back, signaled for the attendants to withdraw, and personally fed Empress Dowager Wen without showing the slightest impatience.
The attendants exchanged uneasy glances, unsure whether to stay or go.
Yu Lingxin said coldly, “Did you not hear the Empress?”
At his sharp reprimand, the attendants finally withdrew with murmured assents.
No one in the world understood Jiang Nong better than Yu Lingxin. Jiang Nong was genuinely excited, genuinely willing.
She had always been like this since childhood—excessively empathetic. Seeing a pitiable person excited her more than finding gold. If she could, she would hold their hand through every step. She needed to be needed, needed to care for the vulnerable, needed to save others—only then could she feel an immense sense of fulfillment and pride.
Naturally, this might not be a good habit. It was precisely this trait that had allowed her to accurately single out Yu Lingxin—a wolf in sheep’s clothing—from the crowd. And it was precisely this trait that had allowed Yu Lingxin to coax and trap her into his grasp.
As for why she was now willing to exchange a few words with him and maintain a fragile peace—it was entirely because in this lifetime, Yu Lingxin had not yet done anything to Chao Ning and the others.
Faced with this scene, that manic itch within Yu Lingxin began to stir. He asked, “If I had drunk your cinnabar potion back then and pretended to be poisoned into a fool, would you have fed me bite by bite like that too?”
Empress Dowager Wen clapped her hands and whispered to Jiang Nong, “Wow! He wants you to feed him too.” She generously offered to let Jiang Nong give him a bite.
Jiang Nong’s chopsticks stabbed viciously into the dish. She pointed at her own head with the other hand: “Find an imperial physician to take a look at him. I suspect those three doses of medicine really did poison his brain—he’s starting to talk in his sleep.”
The truth was never believed. Yu Lingxin let out a snort of laughter, as if she weren’t cursing him but flirting with him.
That feeling of punching cotton—of her blows landing on nothing—made Jiang Nong’s face twitch with rage. She hurled her chopsticks straight at him.
Poise? Demeanor? Refinement? Facing Yu Lingxin, she wanted none of them. She only wanted to punch this bastard to death with one blow!
Yu Lingxin was still laughing, but inside, his heart was already dripping with venom.
Yes, exactly. Anyone else—anyone at all—could earn her sincere devotion. Even a mother she’d met only once. Only he—everything he said and did was wrong.
What did killing Chao Ning in the previous life have to do with this one?
She kept saying she loved him, but she hated him just because he killed a few people. Such shallow love. Shouldn’t she have embraced him, cherished him, believed that he must have suffered terribly to have changed so drastically—then comforted and soothed him?
That was what he thought, and so he said it: “The truth is, everything you said about loving me was a lie.”
Empress Dowager Wen saw them arguing and instinctively tightened her grip on Jiang Nong’s arm.
Jiang Nong gave up. She didn’t want to fight with him. “Can we not argue in front of others? I don’t want to fight with you either.”
What was the point of bickering over these trivial matters every single day? Yes, I loved you in the past—what’s wrong with not loving you now?
That was what Jiang Nong thought, but she wouldn’t say it. If she did, Yu Lingxin would most likely overturn the table and bombard her with more twisted logic.
Somehow, that sentence pleased him. Yu Lingxin backed down, sat down quietly, and even wiped the chopsticks she had thrown at him.
Jiang Nong stayed with Empress Dowager Wen until the Hai hour (9–11 PM), humming a folk song from Xi Kingdom until she finally fell asleep.
She turned around and saw that Yu Lingxin had also fallen asleep on the soft couch. Despite his tall frame, he was curled up—a ridiculous sight—with his head pillowed on his arms and his face buried in the crook of his elbow.
She walked over and nudged Yu Lingxin to wake him. At her touch, he flinched violently. Jiang Nong was startled—she hadn’t expected such a strong reaction. Her hand froze in midair. Yu Lingxin seemed to finally register that it was Jiang Nong who had woken him. He pressed his cold cheek against her warm palm, stretched out his limbs, and said, “Your hands are warm.”
Jiang Nong pulled her hand away and said coolly, “Normal people’s body temperature is warm.”
The implication was that Yu Lingxin was not human.
“I’ve said it before—I’m a dog.”
Not only was he skilled at insulting others, but he was also utterly merciless when it came to insulting himself, without a shred of shame.
In winter, the only palace buildings at Shanglin Garden prepared for occupation were in the southeastern corner. The palace they were to stay in was not far from Yuhua Palace, so no palanquin had been arranged.
But no sooner had they stepped out of Yuhua Palace than light snow began to fall from the sky. The mountains were far colder than Fengye’s imperial palace. The biting wind cut straight through them. Jiang Nong gritted her teeth and clutched her hand warmer tighter.
It was said that the late emperor of Tan Kingdom had lived in extravagant luxury—whenever he traveled, attendants would hold up curtains around him, shielding him from cold in winter, heat in summer, wind and rain alike. Jiang Nong thought to herself: truly, when it came to pleasure and comfort, people would stop at nothing.
Still, she only thought it. Xi Kingdom had always revered poetry, scholarship, ritual, and propriety; the harem valued simplicity. She had never developed such habits. Besides—to avoid a bit of cold herself by making attendants hold curtains in the freezing night—wasn’t that utterly unhinged?
Yu Lingxin walked ahead of her and warned: “Careful—it’s slippery.”
Jiang Nong scoffed. Yu Lingxin was just messing with her again, trying to watch her tiptoe around for his amusement. A little snow like this—how slippery could it be?
In Xi Kingdom, snow this fine would have melted midair before even reaching the ground.
Unprepared, she had barely stepped onto the bluestone path when she stumbled. Yu Lingxin, as if he had anticipated it all along, caught her hand.
Jiang Nong crashed straight into his chest and barely stopped herself.
“Why does no one ever believe the truth? It breaks my heart.” Yu Lingxin’s voice came from above her head, followed by a melancholy sigh.
“How is it this slippery?” Jiang Nong muttered to herself. Even polished marble wouldn’t be this slick when wet. But when she looked closely, she couldn’t see any obvious layer of ice beneath the snow.
“Ground covered with thin snow is the slipperiest. And this kind of weather is the coldest.” Yu Lingxin released her hand and walked forward a few steps with ease. He turned back, extended his hand to her, shook it, and asked, “Want some help?”
In deep winter, the moonlight was colder and sharper, veiled by thin clouds. A few stray beams escaped, slanting down to illuminate the earth—and fell upon Yu Lingxin. His ink-black hair stirred slightly in the north wind. His tall, slender figure stood straight and proud—opposite to the moonlight, he seemed light and lively.
Not entirely, though. It was like the forced lightness of an eighty-year-old man pretending to be young.
Perhaps it was the moonlight, or perhaps it was the dream of Yu Lingxin’s suicide, or perhaps it was simply that Yu Lingxin’s skin always lacked color—even when he acted bright and cheerful, there was always a certain lifelessness about him, as if his vitality had been overdrawn. All that lightness seemed forced, barely held together.
She could only attribute it to her own bias—if she found Yu Lingxin unpleasant, then everything about him seemed unpleasant. But thinking about it more carefully, it made sense: Yu Lingxin had come to this life, which meant he had certainly died in the previous one. With a life as tough as his, he could probably live to seventy or eighty—he was nothing more than an old cucumber painted green.
Jiang Nong would not take his hand. She turned to look at Rong Mian instead. Rong Mian was struggling on her own, shuffling her feet in tiny, awkward steps. When she caught Jiang Nong’s gaze, she looked back with teary eyes and called out softly, “Your Highness…”
The rest of Jiang Nong’s dowry attendants had all grown up in the warm, humid south, and they too were struggling. As for Xunliang, he looked up at the sky, looked down at the ground, and occasionally offered Rong Mian some guidance—but he certainly wouldn’t help her.
Yu Lingxin extended his hand to her again: “If you don’t want to hold on, fine—waddle your way back yourself. But I have another good idea: if you’re not embarrassed, you could just sit down and slide back on your rear.”
Jiang Nong tried spreading her arms and taking a step. As expected, her feet felt like they were greased with oil—she wobbled left and right before barely steadying herself.
The cold wind stung her face. At this pace, how long would it take her to get back?
She bit her lip, lifted her head, and reached out her hand to him.
But Yu Lingxin pulled his hand back and wrapped it around his hand warmer instead. Jiang Nong was horrified—how could he do this! He said he’d lead her, and now he was backing out!
She puffed out her cheeks and bit her lip. Yu Lingxin told her to wait, wait, wait—and only then did he extend his hand to her again.
Jiang Nong took it and found it was warm.
In her heart, a dragonfly skimmed across the water’s surface, stirring up a tiny ripple that quickly faded—so fast that she barely caught the tail end of it.
Their hands clasped, but Jiang Nong clearly still didn’t trust Yu Lingxin. She was terrified he might deliberately trip her up—what if she fell on her face? Her face was still quite beautiful, after all.
“Don’t let go. Whatever you do, don’t let go. If you dare make me fall, I’m done—everything we agreed on before is off.” She repeated this to Yu Lingxin over and over, carefully taking a few steps. The ground was still slippery, but at least she wasn’t stumbling.
Yu Lingxin let out a low chuckle from his throat, watching her cautious, scrunched-up face. He said, “If you fall, I’ll take your surname—how about that? Why are you so clumsy? You need to keep your center of gravity low. If it’s up high, of course you’ll slip.”
Jiang Nong was entirely focused on the ground and didn’t hear a word he said. Her lips were pressed together, her nose and cheeks flushed pink from the cold.
A thought stirred in Yu Lingxin’s mind. He shook her hand and asked, “I’ll take you on a fun ride. Want to try?”
Jiang Nong didn’t trust him and was about to refuse—but Yu Lingxin wasn’t really asking for her consent, since she had no say in the matter anyway. He reversed his grip, took hold of her wrist, and started running across the slick ground. Jiang Nong, terrified, grabbed his arm and screamed.
The snowy scenery flew backward around them. She felt as if she were flying above the ground. It was wonderful and strange.
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