Chao Ning was arranged to stay temporarily at the Guesthouse.
He was a bit drunk. Jiang Nong and Yu Lingxin saw him out of Xuan Shi Hall.
Attendants carried lanterns. Jiang Nong bid him farewell while Yu Lingxin stood behind them, shrouded in shadow, his expression unreadable.
He watched Chao Ning frame by frame, searching for any redeeming quality—any reason why Jiang Nong had transferred her affections to this man.
But there was none. This incompetent man, lifetime after lifetime, had dragged Jiang Nong down to her death—and still occupied an extraordinary place in her heart.
Perhaps it was that insignificant blood tie that gave Chao Ning so much favor in Jiang Nong’s eyes. Yes, she had always been more protective of her blood relatives.
Cousins—how ambiguous a relationship. Hah.
Chao Ning covered his belching mouth, his peach-blossom eyes watery, and accepted the lantern Jiang Nong handed him. He waved at her: “Go back inside. I can walk myself—it’s too cold out, and Yu Lingxin’s hand is still injured. Don’t let him freeze it more.”
Jiang Nong tugged at his sleeve, hesitated for a long time, then asked: “Brother, do you really not hate him anymore?”
Chao Ning’s dizzy head spun for a while before he sorted out her meaning. He said to her: “Even though those assassins were arranged by us—honestly, Nongnong, if someone risks their life to save me from an arrow, forget hate—I’d kneel and call him father. Yu Lingxin is a truly righteous man. Putting aside the previous life, of course.”
“What if he was faking it?”
“Even if it was an act, I’ll accept it. The blood he shed and the breath he lost weren’t fake. If he was pretending, then consider it a life for a life. Besides, you like him—how could the person my sister loves be a bad person?”
Jiang Nong bit her lip, and tears welled up in her eyes: “I always drag you down.” In her previous life, Chao Ning had married her to free her from her predicament, only to be dragged down with her—he never took a wife, and he died. The person Jiang Nong had wronged most was Chao Ning.
Chao Ning looked at her and chuckled: “Nongnong, we’re family. You’re my own sister—don’t talk about dragging me down. You just take life too seriously. Emperors and generals, princes and nobles—just like common folk, one bang, and they die. Life is fleeting. Even brothers fighting for the succession can’t both survive.
Besides, he and I met on the battlefield. We fought with weapons; he was better than me, so I was cut down. There’s nothing more to say—except it hurt a lot. But since he’s not the same person from that life, and everything is moving in a good direction, don’t keep dwelling on the past. The present is what matters.”
“Oh, you’re always so sentimental, overthinking everything. Be careful—it might shorten your life. Go back now. I can see Yu Lingxin’s complexion is much worse than before his arrow wound. Don’t overwork yourselves—take good care of your health.”
Chao Ning waved at her and, supported by his attendants, staggered away.
In the vast snowy expanse, his figure grew smaller and smaller, finally disappearing beyond the palace gates as a tiny dot.
Jiang Nong pressed a handkerchief to her eyes. When she turned around, Yu Lingxin was already standing right behind her, pressed against her back—his icy temperature gave her no sense of human warmth.
He bent his head slightly, his sharp, angular face split into two halves by the lantern light—one illuminated, one in shadow. Strands of ink-black hair hung loose against his cheeks. Only his bright, gleaming eyes stood out starkly against his pale face.
Jiang Nong spent so much time with him that she hadn’t noticed, but now that Chao Ning had mentioned it, she examined him closely. Upon reflection, she realized his complexion was indeed much worse than when he had first been reborn—his qi and blood seemed insufficient. No wonder he slept so much.
“Did you have a good chat with him?” His voice was even hoarser now, like sandpaper scraping.
“He’s my brother.”
“Your beloved brother~” Yu Lingxin said darkly.
Jiang Nong didn’t know why he always used that tone.
Jiang Yuan had told her gossip from outside the palace—how the Lady of Ningkang had confronted her husband over his mistress, pointing at his nose and demanding: “Do you have her in your heart and not me?”
For a moment, Jiang Nong inexplicably thought of that very lady.
From the moment Chao Ning’s name appeared, Yu Lingxin had been off. He was still staring at her. Jiang Nong lowered her head, thought for a moment, then raised her hand and gently touched his cheek: “You’re so cold. Let’s go back inside.”
The instant contraction of Yu Lingxin’s pupils was caught perfectly by her eyes. He fell silent, and his oppressive aura softened considerably.
Jiang Nong walked back to the bedchamber with him in a daze, as if she had arrived at an answer she herself found hard to believe.
To Yu Lingxin, she was more than just revenge and unsatisfied possessiveness. There was also longing for what he couldn’t have.
What you can’t have, you always want.
Yu Lingxin had her body, but not her heart. He possessed the world—power, money, beauties—all within easy reach. The only thing he couldn’t have was the heart of the woman who had once abandoned him. So he couldn’t let go—two lifetimes spent keeping her imprisoned by his side.
And once he obtained her feelings? Then he would be satisfied, toy with her for a while, and finally cast her aside like an old shoe.
Thinking it through, everything made sense.
Dream on! She would never give Yu Lingxin that chance!
Yu Lingxin pressed the back of his hand to the spot Jiang Nong had touched—it seemed to still hold the lingering warmth of her skin.
What did that mean? Training a dog? After speaking with her lover, she gives her husband a bit of kindness to placate him?
Did he seem so cheap that he could be so easily dismissed?
No!
Jiang Nong normally wouldn’t give him a kind look—was it to keep him from harming Chao Ning, or was she soothing him out of guilt?
Jiang Nong felt her guess might be right. That one touch had quieted Yu Lingxin for a good while—his mouth shut, no longer saying those infuriating things.
Even when they lay down in bed, her ears remained peaceful. Yu Lingxin didn’t even pick a fight with her.
Only one lamp remained lit beyond the bed curtains, casting a dim glow. Jiang Nong had been busy all day and unknowingly drifted into a drowsy sleep. In that hazy, half-asleep state, she didn’t know what hour it was. Only faint candlelight filtered through, the view within the bed curtains unclear.
She heard soft, occasional hisses of inhaled breath beside her.
Yu Lingxin hadn’t fallen asleep yet. In the dimness, his features appeared much softer and younger.
Jiang Nong couldn’t tell if she was dreaming or awake. Following her impulse, she murmured drowsily: “Can’t sleep?”
Yu Lingxin was silent for a long time. Jiang Nong’s eyelids fluttered and were about to close again when she finally heard him say: “My hand hurts.”
She had thought Yu Lingxin was made of iron—that he didn’t feel pain.
Jiang Nong turned over, pillowing her head on her left arm, and pulled his injured hand toward her. She blew on it gently: “Feeling better? Does it hurt so much you’re secretly crying in the middle of the night?”
Her sleepy voice was thick and sticky, as if she were coaxing—as if they were close.
She fell silent, about to fall asleep again, her eyes closed, still holding Yu Lingxin’s hand against her cheek.
Jiang Nong’s face was small, sleep-flushed and pink, pressed against the palm of his hand—so obedient, like a wife clinging to her husband, needing to hold his hand to fall asleep.
But Yu Lingxin knew perfectly well that wasn’t true. Jiang Nong was just muddled with sleep. By the time she woke up, she probably wouldn’t even remember they had spoken.
His thumb traced across her cheek, wandering, before finally settling on her soft lips. He stroked them gently, then lowered his head to kiss her lightly. Jiang Nong wouldn’t remember, so he answered her: “Didn’t cry. You wouldn’t pity my tears anyway.”
To someone who loved you, tears were the most powerful weapon. To someone who didn’t, they were worthless.
Yu Lingxin never cried—because his tears had no effect on anyone.
If the words and actions uttered in that half-asleep state were sincere, then Yu Lingxin felt that the time Jiang Nong had touched his face and said “You’re so cold” wasn’t for Chao Ning’s sake—it was because she genuinely wanted to care for him.
When Jiang Nong woke up, sure enough, she barely remembered what had happened the night before. All she could sense was that Yu Lingxin seemed to be in a good mood—not wearing that gloomy ghost-face. She even wondered if he’d had Chao Ning assassinated.
As for the wedding gift Chao Ning had brought, Jiang Nong had initially thought they’d split it—or simply hand it over to the imperial treasury—but Yu Lingxin refused. He made her keep it in her private storehouse.
Jiang Nong had assumed that a man as despicable, vicious, and morally bankrupt as him would gladly accept any money that came his way. It seemed he truly cared about Chao Ning’s existence.
Chao Ning was among the earliest envoys to arrive. The other states also sent their delegations before the New Year.
Though they brought New Year’s gifts, the court had to return gifts of equivalent value—one in, one out, and still a bit more lost in the exchange.
This was Yu Lingxin’s first year on the throne, and the first time he was openly receiving the other four states. This initial meeting was crucial—it would establish what kind of man he was in their eyes and determine how the other four kingdoms would regard him.
Previously, Yu Lingxin had been viewed as a puppet, and they might have treated him with disdain. The relationships between states were like those between people: if you are strong, they submit; if you are weak, they slight you. Thus, this New Year’s banquet was especially grand. Jiang Nong had to be fully alert and play the part of a loving couple with Yu Lingxin—after all, discord between emperor and empress was a major taboo.
Tan Kingdom was weak and had long been unable to hold its head high among the four states—largely due to the late emperor’s bullying-within-the-family tactics. Xi Kingdom was her home country; their alliance meant they wouldn’t embarrass their ally. Dang Kingdom, with Chao Ning present, was also friendly. Only Song Kingdom and Jin Kingdom might probe quietly.
Jiang Nong had anticipated that this New Year’s banquet wouldn’t be entirely peaceful—but she hadn’t expected trouble to come so quickly.
The Song envoy rose first and presented their New Year’s tribute: “Our Emperor, to celebrate the new sovereign’s accession, has prepared gifts beyond those listed on the register—two additional beauties to enrich Your Majesty’s harem. Please do accept them.”
The two beauties had been standing behind the envoy. At the signal, they stepped forward gracefully and knelt, removing their veils to reveal their delicate, lovely faces.
The exchange of virtuous sons and daughters was not uncommon—there were several such cases in the late emperor’s harem. Jiang Nong’s own mother had been a daughter of good family sent from Dang to Xi.
The five states were ostensibly at peace. Even if these beauties were suspected of being spies, they wouldn’t overstep too much. Besides, who would refuse beauties delivered right to their doorstep?
Everyone assumed Yu Lingxin would give Song Kingdom this face. Even if he didn’t like them, he could simply take them in and keep them in the harem.
The hall fell silent. Yu Lingxin had yet to respond, his attention and peripheral vision all fixed on Jiang Nong—searching for a reaction that would satisfy him.
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