Jiang Nong gripped his wrist tightly, her frozen-red face breaking into a smile, eyes sparkling bright—full of wonder and delight, like a kitten with its tail raised high.
Yu Lingxin hadn’t seen her this happy in a long time. He tightened his grip on her hand and ran faster and faster, farther and farther—leaving Xunliang and the others behind, veering off their intended path.
One could say that in all her past and present lives, this was the first time Jiang Nong had ever been so purely, simply happy—happy for happiness’ sake, rather than the satisfaction of helping others.
There had been so little she could grasp, so little freedom she could claim. From the very first day she gained awareness, she had dimly foreseen her fate.
A narrow, winding road, with marriage as the turning point, branching invisibly into several possible endings. She never knew which one she would step onto. The only constant was her mother’s tears: “Nongnong, your mother has been trampled underfoot her whole life. You and Biao’er are my only hope. Your brother is useless—you must strive, you must.”
Perhaps choosing to help others became one of the few things she could control.
The most rebellious thing Jiang Nong had ever done—in her past life—was to secretly pledge herself to Yu Lingxin, knowing full well there would be no future for them.
Yu Lingxin said, “The lake has frozen over. I’ll take you there.”
He had already pulled her along without waiting for a reply.
Rime frost hung thick and white; heaven and earth were one unbroken expanse of snow. The ice was dusted with soft snow—even slicker than the bluestone path.
When Yu Lingxin spun her around, all she could see were white shadows flashing past. In the blur of the scenery, Yu Lingxin was the only clear figure—and the shallow dimple at the corner of his mouth when he smiled.
Jiang Nong grew dizzy from the spinning. Seeing Yu Lingxin’s face, she instinctively let go—then belatedly realized she would be flung away. A cold sweat broke out all over her, only to find that Yu Lingxin had long since secured her wrist, ensuring she wouldn’t be hurt.
She didn’t know what Yu Lingxin was thinking, having the patience to play like this with her. But her heart felt like it was being yanked right out of her chest, tasting a long-lost freedom and defiance—and she understood Yu Lingxin even less.
What was Yu Lingxin thinking?
He was thinking bitterly, venomously.
He thought: In this frozen world, there are only him and Jiang Nong. Let them go on hating each other like this, forever and ever—hate until Jiang Nong couldn’t find a third person to speak to and had no choice but to depend on him alone; hate until their eyes reflected only each other; hate until they became so deeply entwined that not even the collapse of heaven and earth could tear them apart.
Jiang Nong rested her head breathlessly in the crook of his arm, her heart pounding, her eyes misty with moisture. As she looked up, Yu Lingxin caught her—his kiss descended upon her like dry tinder meeting flame. He cupped her face, fierce and brutal, prying open her lips, sucking at her tongue, plundering the remaining moisture from her mouth—then exchanged his own breath for hers.
Jiang Nong couldn’t catch her breath, weakened from the kiss. Yu Lingxin held her like a stone cage, unyielding. She bit him until both their lips and tongues were torn—their mouths filled with the coppery taste of blood. He held on like a starving hyena gnawing at meat, refusing to let go. Only after a long, bloody moment did he release her.
Predictably, he received a limp slap. Yu Lingxin offered his other cheek: “Not giving this side one too?”
Jiang Nong obliged, making it even.
Shamelessly, he said, “So warm.”
A beating that left his face burning with pain—and he called it warm.
“If you’ve got the guts, beat me to death. If you can’t, you’ll just have to endure me.” He leaned down and pressed another kiss to her lips, leaving his blood upon them.
Pale skin, crimson blood on her lips, a look of revulsion in her eyes—beautiful enough to stir the blood.
Jiang Nong wiped it off in disgust. He only smiled, eerily, cupped her face, bit open the already-clotted wound on his lower lip, and kissed her entire face with bloodstains, leaving his marks all over her.
He traced her face slowly with his fingers, pressed his forehead against hers, and asked, “Happy? Did you have fun?”
Jiang Nong didn’t lie: “If it weren’t with you, I’d have been happier.”
“Still want me dead that badly? Fine, then.”
Yu Lingxin clasped his hands behind his back, his tone cool. Jiang Nong had no idea what that “fine, then” meant.
“It’s so cold. I really want to eat hotpot.”
Yu Lingxin abruptly changed the subject. Jiang Nong couldn’t follow. He had already unfastened his cloak and draped it over her from head to toe, tying the cords beneath her chin. Amidst the puffy fur, only her big eyes—eyelashes frosted with rime—were visible. He bent down, kissed her eyes, and hoisted her onto his shoulder.
“Let’s go, let’s go. Time to sleep.”
Jiang Nong clutched the fur collar, her hands tucked inside, wonderfully warm.
Being with Yu Lingxin was like living through a bizarre dream. One moment she was in the bedchamber with Empress Dowager Wen; the next, gliding across the ice; then kissing; then speaking strange words; then being carried off to sleep—no logic, no reason. It went wherever the dream took her.
She smacked her lips and could still taste the blood that belonged to Yu Lingxin. The cloak was filled with the scent of sandalwood from his body—proof that this strange night had been real.
So strange—but aside from Yu Lingxin himself, she didn’t dislike this night. It had been thrilling and novel.
Running wild through the snowy mountains and pavilions, feeling like she was flying, away from the crowds and lanterns, spinning across the frozen lake, then kissing, speaking strange words, and agreeing to go rest together—they were like wild, free savages.
If only she could have done all this with someone else instead. But who?
Jiang Nong couldn’t think of anyone. Chao Ning? That would be strange. They could fly kites together by the riverbank in spring, chatter away until they broke the kite, and blame each other—but they couldn’t do this. Because they were siblings!
In both her lifetimes, every imagination of love—and every object of her affection—had been Yu Lingxin. That insufferable Yu Lingxin!
—
The next day, as soon as the sky cleared, the party set out for the palace.
They had barely settled back in when Princess Pingning delivered another visiting card.
Jiang Nong remembered that this princess was Yu Lingxin’s aunt. She had sent cards frequently before, but hadn’t attended the last snow-viewing banquet—most likely because she had a favor to ask. Jiang Nong had refused her once, twice, three times, but couldn’t refuse a fourth. So she decided to receive her.
Princess Pingning’s husband had died early. She had lived as a widow with her two children and never remarried. Now in her early thirties, she was well-preserved and rosy-cheeked, and quite at ease. As soon as she entered, she busied herself warmly, instructing her attendants to present all the gifts she had brought for Jiang Nong’s inspection.
She had also brought her two children. Her daughter, thirteen, was quiet and refined, reminding Jiang Nong of Jiang Miao. Her son, fourteen, entered with eyes darting everywhere, looking left and right. Princess Pingning neither scolded him nor showed anything but affectionate indulgence.
Jiang Nong mentally reviewed the Pingning household and began to form an idea.
Princess Pingning’s deceased husband, the Marquis of Ling’an, was wealthy but not noble—he had risen from a merchant family. He held no substantive position in the court, only an honorary title. After his death, Princess Pingning, unskilled in commerce, saw the family fortunes decline. Unless something changed, within two or three decades they would fall into complete ruin—whether they could even remain in Fengye was uncertain.
Of course she would come to curry favor while the new emperor’s foundation was still unstable.
But she was too embarrassed to speak openly in front of so many noble ladies, which was why she had sent private invitations time and again.
Jiang Nong traced the rim of her teacup, thinking: She came at just the right time. The treasury was empty, and Princess Pingning—though diminished—still had plenty of wealth. Since she had a request and Jiang Nong had a need, even if this son seemed even more hopeless than Yu Lingxin, Jiang Nong could prop him up for a while.
After a few exchanges, Princess Pingning first pushed her daughter forward.
“This child of mine is wonderful in every way—just too obedient, never causes any worry. She’s reached the age for matchmaking, and I have no idea what to do—too high or too low, it’s hard to say. If Your Highness wouldn’t mind, perhaps you could arrange a marriage for her. It would also bring us great honor to say it came from you.”
Jiang Nong sensed something was off and tested the waters carefully: “I heard that the Emperor of Dang Kingdom intends to select a Crown Princess from other states…”
The young girl immediately clutched her skirt at that, but remained silent. Who knew what Princess Pingning had told her—she seemed resigned to her fate.
Princess Pingning hesitated for a moment, as if pained, then clapped her hands in approval. “A Crown Princess! That’s the highest honor—an excellent match! She’ll be an empress in the future—what glory for our family! We’ll follow Your Highness’s guidance. Hui’er and I will just wait to bask in her reflected glory!
But since Yao’er is getting such a good match, if her younger brother Hui’er were to remain merely a idle marquis… it wouldn’t look quite right. Hui’er is very clever—perhaps he could serve at His Majesty’s side, learn the ropes, and be given some minor post to round out the family’s standing.”
Jiang Nong’s teacup lid clicked softly as she set it down. “But as everyone knows, the Empress of Dang has passed away, and the Crown Prince’s position is uncertain—he could be replaced any day. I truly cannot bear to send a good girl off alone to live in constant fear. That would hardly be a worthy match.”
So that was the plan. She was unwilling to part with money—that was to be saved for her son. To secure an official post for her son, she would offer her daughter up as a marriage pawn, a tool to curry favor. Even a distant marriage alliance with an unstable crown prince was acceptable.
Let the daughter suffer—and the son would have everything.
Princess Pingning felt no shame and nodded again: “Yes, yes, Your Highness is absolutely right.”
Princess Pingning was clever, but not in the right way. Another person might have thought her sensible. Unfortunately, she had hit exactly Jiang Nong’s sore spot. The moment Jiang Nong saw her, she couldn’t help thinking of Lady Song and Jiang Biao—and thinking of them meant this matter would not be let off so easily.
Originally, she had planned to extract a modest sum from Princess Pingning to replenish the treasury. Now, if she didn’t strip her of a layer of skin, Jiang Nong would take Yu Lingxin’s surname.
Xin Hui couldn’t sit still. He shifted left and right on his knees, frowning and saying he wanted to go out—it was so boring. Xin Yao tugged at him and shook her head, but Xin Hui shot her a vicious glare.
Jiang Nong watched him, her eyes curving like crescent moons—gazing at him as if he were a moving mountain of gold. She smiled and said, “After all, we are blood relatives—why speak of ‘asking’? The moment I saw Hui’er and Yao’er, I felt such warmth. I’m sure His Majesty will take a liking to them as well. The Langzhong Guard is an excellent post—both dignified and substantial. As for Yao’er, I am busy with palace affairs, and the Empress Dowager is lonely—how about letting her stay to keep the Empress Dowager company?”
Princess Pingning looked as if she had been struck by a massive windfall—her mouth fell open in disbelief that Jiang Nong could be so accommodating. Not only had she granted Xin Yao a dignified position, but she had also given Xin Hui a prestigious and substantial post. After all, the Langzhong Guard served as His Majesty’s personal bodyguards—his trusted confidants and right-hand men. Wouldn’t that mean his future was assured?
Stunned by the windfall, she asked cautiously, “The Langzhong Guard? Can Your Highness truly… and His Majesty there…”
“Princess, rest assured. Once I speak with His Majesty, he will certainly agree.” Jiang Nong smiled and beckoned to Xin Yao, inviting her to come closer.
Yes, Jiang Nong was certain—absolutely certain—that in matters of such calculated cruelty, Yu Lingxin would do it even better than she could, and with even greater enthusiasm.
Leave a Reply