Things had been so chaotic earlier that Jiang Nong hadn’t even noticed when he’d gotten hurt.
Why is his hand always injured?
Jiang Nong frowned, pulled out her handkerchief, and pressed it against his wound.
“It’s getting late—let’s go back. Have the imperial physician look at it. Did it damage any tendons or bones? I told you not to act on impulse—getting hurt isn’t worth it.” Jiang Nong chattered on, then bent down and blew on the wound. “Does it hurt?”
Unlike last time, she didn’t say he deserved it, didn’t treat him coldly. With Chao Ning absent, had his injury become more meaningful in her eyes?
Yu Lingxin could barely remember the last time Jiang Nong had cared for him like this. The wound wasn’t worse than last time, yet she was more concerned. Was it the meaning attached to the injury—or had he himself become more important?
Yu Lingxin didn’t know. He said: “It doesn’t hurt.”
“Then why were you crying in the middle of the night last time?”
“I wasn’t crying! Jiang Nong, you’re slandering me!”
“Fine, fine.”
The bitterness in his heart faded a little—replaced by a simmering annoyance.
Jiang Nong saw he was angry and patted his back lightly a couple of times. Yu Lingxin seemed to have been doused with water—calmed, with a faint, restless sweetness, like the syrupy strands still clinging to his teeth.
The Golden Guard interrogated the young nobles—they confessed quickly. The next morning, they delivered the statement to Yu Lingxin.
The ringleader was a young man from the Wen clan—the Empress Dowager’s family. By blood, he was the son of Yu Lingxin’s maternal uncle—his cousin.
The Empress Dowager’s family—no wonder they dared claim even Li Ji had to yield to them.
Once upon a time, the Wen family were just fishermen on the outskirts of Fengye. By luck, they’d borne a daughter of unparalleled beauty. She was selected for the palace and enjoyed endless favor—and the Wens rose through her connections, granted a viscountcy. In one fell swoop, they’d become a prominent family in Fengye.
Later, this daughter gave birth to an ill-omened bastard and was banished to Shanglin Garden. Fortunately, the Wens weren’t implicated. They kept their heads down—for seventeen or eighteen years.
After Yu Lingxin ascended the throne, the Wens were, as per custom, elevated to Marquis Chengen by the Imperial Clan Minister—and they began to swagger again, styling themselves as the emperor’s maternal family, bullying men and women alike in Fengye.
The emperor was known to be filial—he’d personally brought his mother back to court. And since the Wens were the Empress Dowager’s family, as long as they didn’t commit major offenses or cause deaths, people turned a blind eye.
When the Empress Dowager was doing hard labor at Shanglin Garden, they offered no help. Now that the bitterness had passed, they latched on like leeches.
When Marquis Chengen heard his son had been arrested, he used some means to bribe the Empress Dowager’s attendants and requested an audience.
He brought a cooked fish and wept pitifully.
The Empress Dowager, her mind still that of a child, stared at him blankly, not understanding what he wanted.
Marquis Chengen sobbed: “When Your Highness was young, you loved this braised crucian carp most. The belly meat is tender—we brothers always gave it to you. Do you remember?”
Frightened by his crying—though she knew he was her brother, he was unfamiliar—she looked around nervously and asked repeatedly: “What are you doing? What do you want?”
“So my uncles aren’t all dead after all! Still alive.”
A sinister voice came from behind.
Yu Lingxin kicked over the fish in front of Marquis Chengen. The plate clattered and rolled, splattering broth on the marquis’s face.
He trembled, not daring to lift his head.
The Empress Dowager wasn’t close to Yu Lingxin either—she was afraid of him, especially when he entered so ferociously. Her eyes welled up with tears. She quietly curled up and said she wanted Nongnong.
Yu Lingxin sat down and studied Marquis Chengen. What the son didn’t know, the father certainly did.
He was about to have the man dragged away when he remembered the Empress Dowager was still there—if she cried, Jiang Nong would blame him.
He changed his expression and said: “Actually, Uncle need not be so afraid—we are blood relatives. I took an instant liking to Cousin and was even thinking of giving him an official post to bring honor to the family. But I do need to give the public a proper explanation—surely Uncle understands?”
Marquis Chengen thought: Just as the rumors say—His Majesty is truly filial to the Empress Dowager. Hearing that Yu Lingxin wanted to give his son a post, he beamed with joy.
He breathed a silent sigh of relief. If he’d known, he would have sought an audience with His Majesty directly.
“It’s just that Cousin’s confession has some gaps. I’ll need Uncle to take a trip to the Supreme Court to help fill them in.”
Marquis Chengen was a hereditary titleholder who’d risen through his daughter’s connections—he held no real office, and twenty years ago, he’d been illiterate. The respectable households of Fengye looked down on him and refused to associate with him. Despite being uncle and nephew, this was his first time meeting Yu Lingxin. All he knew of His Majesty’s filial piety came from whispers among the common folk.
Ignorant of Yu Lingxin’s temper and deaf to hidden meanings, he thanked His Majesty for the great favor and happily took his leave.
Seeing everyone talking so cheerfully, the Empress Dowager stopped being afraid. Her tears receded, and she waved at Marquis Chengen.
When Yu Lingxin saw her reaching for the spilled fish, he told her not to touch it and brought her to Xuan Shi Hall for dinner.
The Empress Dowager asked timidly: “Can I see Nongnong?”
Her own son wasn’t this dear to her—she was far more attached to Jiang Nong.
Too bad Jiang Nong was usually busy and couldn’t always play with her.
Yu Lingxin didn’t really like anyone clinging to Jiang Nong. In his ideal world, Jiang Nong’s entire universe should contain only him—her love, her hate, even her gaze shouldn’t be spared for anyone else.
But remembering that before her birthday, Jiang Nong had said she wished someone would sincerely bless her—that she needed others’ affection, needed more friends—Yu Lingxin magnanimously accepted his mother joining their small dinner table at Xuan Shi Hall. “You can see her.”
The Empress Dowager clapped happily and said: “Thank you.”
“Thank me for what?”
“Thank you for letting me have Nongnong.”
Yu Lingxin’s face darkened. Thank you for letting me have Nongnong? Just because he allowed Jiang Nong to see her didn’t mean he was giving Jiang Nong away! What wishful thinking! He let Chao Ning see Jiang Nong too—did that mean he was giving her to Chao Ning?
He put on a stern face and threatened the Empress Dowager: “I’m not giving her to you! Say that again and I won’t let you see her!”
The Empress Dowager covered her mouth and nodded frantically.
She knew—this man was bad, mean, unwilling to let her see Nongnong. But here, only Nongnong was kind. She liked Nongnong best. If only this bad man would disappear.
Xunliang was left behind to reorganize Changle Palace, replacing all the attendants from top to bottom. He handed a pouch of gold leaf to Xin Yao and said she’d done well.
“You were at the Deer Singing Banquet yesterday—all the noble sons and new scholars were there. Her Highness asked me to see if you’ve taken a liking to anyone. She’ll arrange a marriage for you. If no one caught your eye, we can discuss it later. Or tell me what kind of person you like—I move in court circles and can keep an eye out.”
Xin Yao clutched the gold leaf, never expecting she’d get to choose her own husband. She’d thought the Empress was just making empty promises, that she’d be forgotten, that her fate would be decided for her. Her eyes reddened. After a choked pause, she spoke honestly: “I want someone honest and upright. No need for a prestigious family or exceptional talent—just decent-looking and able to live a good life together. Preferably a bit older—I’d feel more secure.”
Xin Yao was a simple, honest person—and she wanted a simple, honest person to build a life with.
Xunliang thought it over and did have someone in mind—a man deeply valued by His Majesty. He’d originally been keeping this prospect for Rong Mian, given their childhood bond. But seeing Rong Mian was still emotionally oblivious… never mind.
“Wait for my word.” He gave her a reassuring look.
Changle Palace was undergoing a complete overhaul tonight—short-staffed and chaotic. The Empress Dowager was staying temporarily in the side hall of Xuan Shi Hall’s rear palace. Jiang Nong slept with her.
Yu Lingxin’s hand still hurt, but he had to spend the night alone, tossing and turning. After pacing the bedchamber twice, he went to the side hall to check on them.
Leaning against the doorframe, he immediately felt worse.
His hand hurt more.
The Empress Dowager had braided little plaits into Jiang Nong’s hair, then hugged her and planted kisses all over her face, saying: “Nongnong is so pretty. I like Nongnong.”
Jiang Nong kissed her back and said: “Nongnong likes Mother too.”
Yu Lingxin felt his heart seize. Why could his mother kiss her without getting slapped? Why could his mother openly say she liked her?
If Jiang Nong hated him, why couldn’t she hate everyone associated with him? Why could everyone except him easily win her affection?
Why? Why? Why?
He’d thought he’d be content with where they were—sharing a skewer of candied hawthorns, Jiang Nong occasionally touching his face when in a good mood. That was enough.
Until he saw Jiang Nong with other people.
She didn’t even love his mother that much. When she truly loved someone—how intense would that love be? How had she been with Chao Ning in her previous life?
What you can’t have turns into jealousy, into hatred, into bitter poison. Most of life’s suffering comes from the hysteria of unfulfilled desires—chewing them over again in the dead of night.
He wanted more and more.
Cold hatred took on solid form.
Out of the corner of her eye, Jiang Nong glimpsed the beaded curtain swaying—but no one was there. She knew who stood behind it.
Why not come in? What are you thinking about again?
Late at night, the Empress Dowager, unused to the new bed, slept fitfully. Through the haze, she saw two glowing eyes floating in the darkness—nearly crying out in fright. Yu Lingxin pressed a finger to his lips, signaling her to be quiet.
All she could do was clutch her blanket and watch helplessly as Yu Lingxin carried Jiang Nong away, bed and all.
He adjusted Jiang Nong in his arms, held her tighter, pressed his cheek against her sleep-warmed face, and slowly walked back to the main bedchamber.
He laid her down, held up a candle to study her for a moment, smoothed her tangled hair, stroked her cheek, then blew out the candle.
Then he got into bed, pulled up the covers, wrapped his arms around her, buried his face in the curve of her neck—a seamless, practiced motion—and closed his eyes to sleep.
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