Yu Lingxin had always believed Chao Ning was playing dumb—pretending to be kind and innocent while actually laying traps for him at every turn.
Calculating, with some cunning but not quite enough—he would overreach and end up tripping over himself.
Until Chao Ning appeared on the battlefield, declaring that he would use this military achievement to marry Yuan Lian—Yu Lingxin still thought it was a scheme to gain support for the succession struggle, using Yuan Lian as a cover.
In short, when someone is biased against you, no matter what you do, they see nothing but conspiracy in your every move.
Then Chao Ning proved through his actions that he wasn’t pretending to be foolish—he genuinely was.
Yuan Lian was too much of a worry to leave in the palace, so Chao Ning kept her by his side. Thus, Yu Lingxin got to witness firsthand how Chao Ning was played like a fiddle by a coy, theatrically “fragile” woman who found endless ways to stir up trouble—all while Chao Ning, with tear-filled eyes, would say: “Yuanyuan loves me so much. She can’t live without me—you know that?”
People always find an unspoken resonance with others like themselves. Yu Lingxin had been maliciously suspicious of Chao Ning—but with Yuan Lian, he felt true kinship.
After all, when he’d first been reborn, he was even worse than Yuan Lian—by far.
And Chao Ning couldn’t see through that woman’s nature at all.
In a certain sense, Jiang Nong and Chao Ning shared the same blood—and apparently, the same taste.
But Yu Lingxin truly couldn’t understand how Chao Ning, having been with Jiang Nong, could then fall for a woman like that. No matter how he looked at it—from every angle, up and down, left and right—he couldn’t find a single thing about Yuan Lian that could hold a candle to Jiang Nong.
Yu Lingxin felt that everyone in the world should love Jiang Nong—but anyone who dared to compete with him would be done for.
Chao Ning, upon seeing Yu Lingxin, was like parched earth meeting rain. Back in his own kingdom, no one could understand his profound, unforgettable love. Everyone opposed his being with Yuan Lian. By the campfire at night, Chao Ning would pour his heart out to Yu Lingxin about his destined, magnificent romance.
Yu Lingxin’s gaze paused briefly on the affected Yuan Lian, then landed on Chao Ning’s radiant, beaming face. He nodded pleasantly, appearing most amicable.
After all, he was more than happy to listen to stories about how this fool was being played like a puppet.
Chao Ning recounted how he had been injured and saved by Yuan Lian—first the beauty saving the hero, then the hero saving the beauty. Yuan Lian had given him her heart, and she simply couldn’t go on living without him.
As Chao Ning told his love story, his heart fluttering, he asked Yu Lingxin: “Don’t you think this is fate—that Heaven destined us to be together?”
After hearing Chao Ning’s tale of being duped, Yu Lingxin felt considerably better. At least the state of things between him and Jiang Nong was because they had once loved each other. He nodded and said to Chao Ning: “You two are a match made in heaven.”
One who spins people in circles, and a fool who gets spun in circles.
Why on earth did Jiang Nong protect such an idiot so fiercely?
Oh, right. Jiang Nong liked the simple, kindhearted kind of fool.
But if Chao Ning truly was that stupid…
If he was truly that stupid, Yu Lingxin felt no guilt at all in using him. A wife’s former husband—no need for guilt.
Besides, Chao Ning had betrayed Jiang Nong. Yu Lingxin considered himself gracious for not having killed the adulterous pair already. If he could put them to good use, why not?
Let Jiang Nong’s mind churn as it pleased—she could go round and round until she was a hundred and still never make up her mind. Even on her deathbed, she might not fully accept him.
Out of his three lifetimes combined, the thing he did best was to push himself to the brink of death and then rise again.
With Yu Lingxin away, by custom the Grand Chancellor should have overseen the state. But Yu Lingxin had given that authority to Jiang Nong.
Just days ago, word had spread that the Emperor and Empress had quarreled bitterly—yet before leaving, His Majesty had still entrusted the regency to her. Clearly, husband and wife remained of one heart.
Lü Chengcheng’s veiled hostility and resentment toward Jiang Nong now curdled into fierce, burning jealousy.
His hatred toward her was a tangled knot of envy and wariness. He revered Yu Lingxin—looking across both past rulers of Tan and the current kings of the five kingdoms, he didn’t believe a single one could compare. And Jiang Nong had received sole favor, exclusive affection—things she didn’t deserve—and even siphoned away power that should have been his.
Lü Chengcheng’s contempt and hostility toward Jiang Nong had become the enmity between political rivals.
He was never a loyal, virtuous minister—his loyalty belonged only to Yu Lingxin. With Jiang Nong acting as regent, he couldn’t resist using his influence to throw obstacles in her way.
Fortunately, she managed without major incident—with Xunliang’s help and her own prior experience, Jiang Nong handled things well enough. Still, she couldn’t help noticing Lü Chengcheng’s subtle malevolence.
Jiang Nong thought there might be some misunderstanding between them, so she invited Lü Chengcheng to the palace for a private chat. He declined, pleading illness—yet the very next day, he appeared vigorous and energetic at court, picking apart every flaw in the memorials and decrees she had approved the day before.
Jiang Nong had just spoken about enclosing land for orchards, as well as this year’s additional horses and military expansion, and asked: “Does any minister have something to say?”
Lü Chengcheng tucked his hands into his sleeves, not even lifting his eyelids: “In this minister’s view, the treasury’s exhaustion ultimately stems from Your Majesty’s grand wedding depleting the state coffers, combined with the three-year tax exemption and the charitable distribution for Your Majesty’s birthday. While military preparation is indeed important, one must consider the circumstances…”
“And as for Her Highness’s proposal to plant fruit trees on the hills and plains near the river dam—merely to satisfy personal appetite—this would surely exhaust the people and waste resources.”
Between the lines, his meaning was clear: because of Jiang Nong, the treasury was empty, and thus the military could not be supported. And her plan, which she had discussed with Yu Lingxin last year—to enclose land for trial cultivation of superior fruit trees for export to other kingdoms—he dismissed as mere personal indulgence.
One was the Grand Chancellor, the other the Empress whom His Majesty fiercely protected. With titans clashing, the court officials hemmed and hawed—either too afraid to speak, or siding with Lü Chengcheng in opposition. Clearly part of Lü’s faction, they held grievances against Jiang Nong.
“Your Highness might do better to set these important matters aside until His Majesty returns to make the final decision. After all, Your Highness has long been in the deep palace, and moreover… for the Empress to involve herself in governance is somewhat… somewhat…” They trailed off, but Jiang Nong knew what they meant—it was improper.
They stopped just short of saying she was a short-sighted woman, a hen crowing at dawn.
Jiang Nong, even if made of mud, would have some temper. In the past, whatever she did or said—even leaving handwriting on memorials that clearly wasn’t Yu Lingxin’s—these ministers had turned a blind eye and never spoke a word before Yu Lingxin.
She had thought these gentlemen were gentle and virtuous—only to realize they had simply been too afraid of Yu Lingxin to speak. They were no different from the ministers of Xi. The moment Yu Lingxin left, their true colors showed.
Jiang Nong felt deeply unsettled. She wasn’t one to act recklessly—everything she did was carefully weighed and considered. For truly major matters, she always wrote to Yu Lingxin for his opinion. These minor affairs she usually handled on her own—but now that Yu Lingxin was gone, everything she said or did was suddenly dismissed as foolishness.
A few ministers whom Jiang Nong had once favored spoke up in her defense. When they had knelt before Xuan Shi Hall, it was the Empress who had ordered shelters built for them and sent charcoal; during the Situ Ming affair, it was the Empress who pleaded for mercy and saved their entire family; on countless occasions, she had given them room to maneuver. Given His Majesty’s temperament, they would have faced the execution of nine clans—so many, especially those without ambitions of power, were grateful for her kindness.
Most of those who gave her a hard time were the self-proclaimed senior ministers, aligned with Lü Chengcheng.
The majority, however, still dared not speak.
She had spoken gently, only to be treated like a soft persimmon. Jiang Nong was so angry she practically steamed with fury, wishing she could kick every one of them out. For the first time, she understood Yu Lingxin’s tyranny.
In two lifetimes combined, she finally grew firm—using no conciliatory tone: “Since you ministers have hemmed and hawed for so long without offering any good solution, we shall proceed according to this Empress’s intentions.”
“Your Highness!” Lü Chengcheng called out sharply, his tone laden with disapproval.
Even Yu Lingxin had never raised his voice at her, yet Lü Chengcheng dared to give her attitude. If he had shown this much spine before Yu Lingxin, Jiang Nong might have respected him as a man. But in fact, he was the most obedient to Yu Lingxin of all. She snapped back: “Does Minister Lü still recognize that I am the Empress! This Empress’s will is His Majesty’s will! If anyone is dissatisfied, they are welcome to write to His Majesty—and see what he has to say!”
Write to His Majesty—so he could have them all killed?
Who would dare?
If Lü Chengcheng wouldn’t show Jiang Nong face, she wouldn’t show him any either. With Yu Lingxin absent, the two had all but openly broken ties.
The morning court ended in discord. Xunliang offered to warn them on her behalf, but Jiang Nong, mindful that several of the elders opposing her were advanced in years, chose not to press further—hoping they would come to their senses.
Yu Lingxin had been gone less than half a month when disaster struck Xi. Compared to the previous life, the Emperor’s death had come early.
With no crown prince appointed and the Emperor dead, the funeral was kept secret for the time being while the princes fought each other tooth and nail. Even Lady Song, who had been cold to Jiang Nong for a long time, sent urgent letters by eight-hundred-li relay to both Yu Lingxin and Chao Ning at the front. Yu Lingxin forwarded the letter to Jiang Nong.
The letter undoubtedly worked both interests and kinship—trying to persuade Yu Lingxin and Chao Ning. They were currently at the Song front, overlooking Xi—conveniently positioned. One was a cousin, the other a brother-in-law. If they could help Jiang Biao seize the throne, the three of them would surely support each other in the future.
Before Chao Ning could even send a letter to his father for discussion, Grand Commandant Chen had already produced what was claimed to be the late Emperor’s edict—ascending the throne through abdication.
It was somewhat irregular in ritual, but perfectly lawful in procedure. After all, Yao and Shun had also abdicated—proof of the late Emperor’s lofty virtue and true concern for the state and people.
With the dynasty’s name changed, Jiang Nong’s status suddenly became awkward—especially with Yu Lingxin away from Fengye.
Upon receiving the news, she pressed her forehead in dismay.
First the quarrel with Yu Lingxin, then his departure for battle—fine. She was still acting as regent—fine. She had openly broken with Lü Chengcheng—fine. And now her nominal greatest backer was dead…
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