After Princess Pingning’s departure, the shrewd ones could see through the scheme well enough. The noble scions still residing in Fengye all tightened their belts and behaved themselves considerably.
Jiang Nong sent her personal guards to escort Chao Ning out of the kingdom—she didn’t hide it from Yu Lingxin. Lying on his sickbed, Yu Lingxin overheard and coughed in anger. His throat damaged, he wiped his mouth with a handkerchief and found a smear of blood on it.
Xunliang held the handkerchief with trembling hands and called out to Jiang Nong: “Blood—there’s blood.”
Don’t tell me the fever’s turned into consumption.
Jiang Nong glanced at it, then looked at Yu Lingxin in bed—his face pale as death. Anyone would say he was gravely ill.
She tried to consider whether she could maintain the current situation if Yu Lingxin died now.
The answer was no.
So Yu Lingxin would have to stay alive for now.
Jiang Nong walked over and pressed the back of her hand to Yu Lingxin’s face. His usually cold cheeks were now hot enough to steam buns. She ordered someone to summon the imperial physician.
Usually he seemed so tough—tall and strong—but apparently he was more fragile than he looked. She hadn’t even done anything yet, and Yu Lingxin had fallen ill first.
Jiang Nong inappropriately thought of a delicious idiom: crispy on the outside, tender on the inside.
It was used to describe fried foods—crispy exterior, tender interior—but it could also temporarily describe Yu Lingxin’s state: strong and robust on the surface, soft and fragile underneath.
She licked her lips.
She remembered that in his previous life, he hadn’t been this delicate. Every inch of Tan Kingdom’s land had been won by him leading troops into battle.
Campaigning meant enduring the elements—and after all those years, she had never once heard him cough.
Though Chao Ning was neither accomplished in letters nor martial arts, he wasn’t useless either. The fact that Yu Lingxin had killed him in battle proved that at least physically, he had been formidable.
The problem must have stemmed from that arrow wound. It had struck near his heart, costing him half his life and weakening his constitution. Now even a minor disturbance could bring him down.
What was the point? Taking an arrow for Chao Ning.
Just to win her trust, just for that stubborn obsession with what he couldn’t have—was it worth ruining himself to this extent?
Yu Lingxin turned his head away, coughing until his whole chest shook. He slowly opened his eyes, his voice as hoarse as rusted iron: “I can’t watch you right now. You should take the chance while your lover hasn’t gone far and elope with him. Maybe it’ll work out. Go on—don’t just stand there.”
His bloodshot eyes fixed on her.
Jiang Nong was startled. She actually thought he had a point—this was her best chance to escape, while Chao Ning hadn’t traveled far. But why hadn’t she thought of that immediately? Instead, her first instinct had been to summon the imperial physician for him.
Seeing her actually considering it, Yu Lingxin coughed up another mouthful of blood in anger.
If you really leave, don’t come back! Die in Dang Kingdom then! He wouldn’t go through all that trouble to drag her back again.
What was the point? For a heart that belonged to someone else? For her constant seeking of death?
Jiang Nong patted his back and said slowly: “Look at you—getting all worked up again. What if I run away and you don’t die? Wouldn’t it be just like the previous life?”
Perhaps she’d spent too much time with Yu Lingxin—she was starting to speak in ways that made people angry too.
So she wasn’t leaving because she was afraid he wouldn’t die.
If Yu Lingxin hadn’t had such a tough fate, those two sentences alone would have killed him on the spot. Jiang Nong would have left a colorful mark in the history books—the couple both going down in ridiculous fashion.
Jiang Nong figured that even if she were truly going to run, she would have to settle the people she’d brought with her—from the female officials down to the cooks. She couldn’t just abandon over a hundred lives in the palace.
If it weren’t for them, she might have tried to run long ago.
“You’re overthinking. If you want to leave, leave now. I won’t do anything.” Yu Lingxin closed his eyes and lay back down on the bed.
People were more vulnerable when sick. At this moment, Yu Lingxin felt like giving up.
He thought: after so many years of this back-and-forth entanglement, what was the point? His entire life seemed to revolve around Jiang Nong—love or hate, it was as if he lived for her.
Of course, that’s what he said, and that’s what he thought—but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t change his mind. Perhaps the moment she stepped out, he’d send someone to assassinate Chao Ning and drag Jiang Nong back.
Same as always—you could only believe half of what Yu Lingxin said. He was a madman without morals or conscience.
“Wow, how generous of you. Then I’m leaving…” Jiang Nong took two steps, then turned back to look at him uncertainly. “I’m really, truly leaving…”
Yu Lingxin propped himself up against the bedside, his ink-black hair falling loose, draping over his pale cheeks. He watched her leave without a word, his brow casting shadows over his eyes, making his gaze unreadable. His demeanor was terrifyingly calm.
He was the one who told her to go—and yet there he sat, looking like a pitiful dog abandoned on the street, unable even to wag its tail.
A big dog, a gaunt wolfhound with dull, grayish fur.
Rong Mian hesitated—should she pack their belongings? What about the dowry? Were they just going to abandon everything?
Jiang Nong was already walking out. Rong Mian stamped her foot and hurried after her.
Xunliang felt a flash of panic, though he didn’t show it. He awaited Yu Lingxin’s orders.
He had been with Yu Lingxin since he was eight—eight years now. From Tan Kingdom to Xi Kingdom, and back to Tan Kingdom. Even as Yu Lingxin’s heart became increasingly inscrutable, Xunliang’s loyalty remained firm.
In this world, the only person who was truly special to Yu Lingxin—the only one who held that singular place—was Jiang Nong.
The moment Jiang Nong’s figure disappeared, Yu Lingxin covered his mouth again and coughed violently, the whites of his eyes bloodshot, making him look even more ferocious.
Xunliang hurriedly offered water. Yu Lingxin snatched it and smashed it on the ground—shards flying everywhere, water soaking the floor.
“Get out!”
From outside, an attendant announced: “The imperial physician has arrived.”
“Everyone—OUT!”
Xunliang quickly lowered his head and signaled for everyone to withdraw.
His mind was in turmoil too. How had things gone so wrong so suddenly? Hadn’t they just been hanging blessing ribbons together a few days ago, chatting and laughing as they came back?
What empress runs off with her lover? And what emperor lets her?
How would he explain this to the court tomorrow? How would he answer to Xi Kingdom? He couldn’t just say the empress had run away—he’d have to claim she’d died of a sudden illness.
Yu Lingxin closed his eyes. Under the fury, his heart burned like boiling fire, his head growing foggier, a buzzing ringing in his ears.
Light footsteps mixed with the rustle of fabric—hazy, indistinct, sometimes near sometimes far like something out of a dream—finally stopping beside him.
He caught a familiar scent. Slim, cool fingertips touched his forehead, murmuring by his ear: “Even hotter now. You’ll burn yourself stupid soon.”
She’d already left—why would she come back? Could he not even dream without her haunting him?
His lips were pried open and something cool and sweet was placed inside, dissolving on his tongue, soothing his parched, painful throat. The restlessness in his heart eased considerably.
Not a dream.
“Didn’t you leave? Why come back?” He opened his eyes and asked.
Jiang Nong found it amusing: “I see you’re easy to fool too. You believe whatever I say, don’t you? You must have been pretty old when you died in your last life—so why are you acting like a child?”
She tossed the lacquer box in her hand lightly. “I went to get snow pear candy. It’s good for a sore throat—it’ll make you feel better.”
Jiang Nong’s throat didn’t hurt, but she popped a piece into her own mouth anyway—sweet and cool.
“Why do you always do this?” Yu Lingxin closed his eyes wearily.
Jiang Nong was confused: “Do what?”
He couldn’t explain it to her. She had no heart. She didn’t care.
Why couldn’t she just hate him properly? Why did she have to give him little tastes of sweetness—only to remind him that she didn’t care at all?
When he grew resentful, she’d give him another kindness—repeating the torment endlessly.
He was so worn down by this torment that he didn’t even have the spirit to argue with her anymore, to say things that would make her equally angry.
That person from that night—the one who, even after being exposed, could still look down from on high and demand “Why couldn’t you just pretend not to know?”—was being slowly ground to dust by Jiang Nong.
Jiang Nong, what do you want from me?
Is this fun for you?
I hate you so much! I hate you more every day!
You keep asking me what I mean?
Do you want me to kneel and beg you like some pathetic clown—beg for your pity, beg you to be good to me, beg you not to blow hot and cold, beg you to love me?
You hate me too much—I won’t give you that leverage, that weapon to trample and mock me with.
As Yu Lingxin closed his eyes, he felt something scalding roll down his skin—burning, searing hot, aching all the way to his heart.
What was that? His pathetic tears.
He hoped Jiang Nong hadn’t seen them—or that they would simply slide into his temples and disappear.
But his wish went unanswered. That pair of soft hands cupped his face again, and Jiang Nong gently wiped away his tears with her fingertips.
“How can you be crying? Does it hurt somewhere?” Her voice was so soft, falling by his ear like a warm puff of cotton—as if she truly loved him.
So my tears aren’t worthless to you, are they, sister?
When will you hurt me next? Tell me in advance—so I can prepare myself.
Let it be, let it be. I’ll accept whatever you say.
We’ll keep arguing, saying things to make each other angry, tangled up together for a lifetime—or maybe one day we’ll really kill each other.
There was still sugar on his tongue—the piece Jiang Nong had put there.
He didn’t know how long this sugar would make him impenetrable, but for now, he was willing to give up resistance for the sake of this piece of candy. For a while to come, whatever Jiang Nong said, he could let it pass with a smile.
“Fallen asleep?” Jiang Nong muttered when she saw his eyes tightly shut.
The imperial physician was still waiting in the outer hall. He was summoned in, took Yu Lingxin’s pulse, and frowned for a long while, as if deliberating.
Jiang Nong wondered if Yu Lingxin might actually be defeated by a mere fever. She might become the youngest, most noble widow.
Perhaps her father would rescue her and arrange a remarriage. Or perhaps she would die in some palace coup, framed onto some minister. Or maybe—just maybe—she would rise to the occasion, adopt a child from a collateral branch, install him as the new emperor, and seize power.
The third possibility was almost nonexistent.
“His Majesty’s heart meridian was previously damaged. Now, compounded by excessive heart-fire, insomnia, and irritability, cold pathogens have taken advantage of the weakened state to invade his body.”
“In plain terms—what’s to be done?”
The imperial physician put it bluntly: “Mm… he must not get angry or upset. Above all, not so worked up that he can’t sleep. Based on my observation…”
“Alright, get out. Go prepare the medicine.” Yu Lingxin, hearing this, struggled to order him out.
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