Jiang Nong wanted to tease Yu Lingxin—but Yu Lingxin simply couldn’t handle being teased.
When he reached out to steady her, she raised her hand and gave him a light slap on the face. Only then did Yu Lingxin seem to snap back to reality.
He pressed his forehead, trying to appear calm and composed—but he couldn’t help turning away to laugh.
He laughed for a while, then a wave of embarrassment washed over him, and he buried his face in the covers.
Now it was Jiang Nong’s turn to laugh. She had felt humiliated when he threw her off—but now that Yu Lingxin was the one embarrassed, she had something to enjoy.
She crawled over, trying to turn him over to face her, but he kept his face pressed to the bed, refusing to turn around.
In truth, she couldn’t overpower him. If he refused to show her, there was nothing she could do—and that made her a little angry.
Yu Lingxin half-resisted, half-gave in, finally revealing his face—and Jiang Nong saw that all his exposed skin was flushed bright red.
She wouldn’t let him off. She mimicked his tone, reciting earnestly: “If I’d asked you yesterday, or the day before, or the day before that—do you love me?—would you have said it?”
“You did nothing wrong…”
Yu Lingxin couldn’t take it anymore. He reached up and covered Jiang Nong’s mouth.
She sat on the couch, giggling uncontrollably, swaying and losing all composure. Yu Lingxin covered his face and thumped his head against her chest a few times.
“Ouch!” Jiang Nong lost her balance and toppled over.
Yu Lingxin took the opportunity to rest his head gently against her chest, listening to her heartbeat.
He felt light—floating on a cloud—never so happy in his life.
After listening for a while, he lifted his head, wanting to kiss her—but held back, only touching her cheek to confirm this was all real: “You don’t have to say it—I know. You don’t just like me. You love me.”
“How can you tell?”
“You didn’t poison me.”
“Not poisoning you means I love you? Then I could say you love me even more—you were willing to drink it even knowing I’d put poison in it.” Jiang Nong rested her fingers on his cheek and tapped lightly.
Yu Lingxin held her waist tightly, breathing in her scent. His thin eyelids trembled, his thoughts drifting: “That’s different.” He quickly found the logic to counter her. “I… love you, so I was willing to drink it. You love me, so you didn’t really poison me. You wanted to know how much of my heart was true—so you tested me.”
Yu Lingxin was ashamed to say the word “love”—he mumbled through it, swallowing the syllables.
“Jiang Nong, thank you for testing me.”
Jiang Nong didn’t understand: “Why say that? I’m still angry that you tested me behind my back. I didn’t thank you—and yet you’re thanking me?”
How could Yu Lingxin explain?
His heart was burning, his whole body warm, as if every bone was stretching and growing, bursting to escape his skin. His words came out jumbled and unclear: “We’re different. I had room to change my mind—you didn’t.”
Jiang Nong thought about it for a moment, then realized what he meant. A chill ran down her back. She paused, then acknowledged he was right.
Though Yu Lingxin had given her power, giving her the leverage to confront and test him—at the end of the day, their power was not balanced. She appeared more influential than any empress before her, but her authority ultimately came from Yu Lingxin.
She had feigned poisoning him—pushed by his machinations, yes—but if he had changed his mind, or if things hadn’t gone as she expected, with her fallen maternal house, she would have faced deposition, confinement, or death.
Yu Lingxin was mad, and she had been drawn into his madness—daring to test a man’s heart like that.
Yu Lingxin wanted to know how much Jiang Nong cared for him. Jiang Nong wanted to know how true Yu Lingxin’s feelings were. Both had staked their most precious lives as tokens of their bet. Deep down, they both believed love outweighed life itself—and fortunately, neither had lost.
“So I think you love me—much, much more than I ever imagined. Jiang Nong, you didn’t poison me—and that makes me so happy. You were willing to test me, which means you wanted my true heart too.”
Jiang Nong propped her chin up and thought about it—it was indeed true. Yu Lingxin was terribly clever.
“One last question. If I truly intended to take Chao Ning’s life, and was determined to go to war—what would you do? Would you forgive me?”
“No. Liking you is my own affair. War concerns the lives of all the people in the realm. My feelings aren’t that important.” If she were truly certain Yu Lingxin would start a war, she couldn’t bear to lose him—so she would likely perish with him, or poison him with something less than lethal.
Before she could finish, Yu Lingxin seemed to understand and covered her mouth: “Alright, alright, I understand. I won’t do bad things. Whatever you like, I’ll become. I’ll turn into the person you want.”
Now that he knew Jiang Nong loved him, Yu Lingxin’s carefully hidden affection erupted like a volcano—no longer needing to be concealed, impossible to hide.
Between the person she loved and her principles, Jiang Nong would choose principles ten times out of ten—so Yu Lingxin would never go against her principles and make things difficult for her. As long as Jiang Nong loved him, that was enough.
In such a tender moment, Jiang Nong should have said, “It’s alright—just be yourself, you don’t need to change for me.” But she simply couldn’t bring herself to say it. If Yu Lingxin truly acted like himself, some people would suffer terribly for it.
She only patted Yu Lingxin’s arm and encouraged him: “Great! I believe in you.”
As if encouraged, Yu Lingxin lifted his head, hesitated for a moment, then gave her a light peck on the cheek, his eyes sparkling as he looked at her.
Jiang Nong, flustered by his gaze, pecked him back on the chin—then grimaced and wiped her mouth: “You’ve got stubble.”
Yu Lingxin’s skin could be incredibly thick or incredibly thin, always swinging between extremes with no normal middle ground. Jiang Nong didn’t know what had struck him, but he lowered his head and nuzzled against her face with his soft, warm lips, murmuring: “Then I’ll kiss you.”
Jiang Nong felt embarrassed by his sudden shyness. She probably shouldn’t have said that. Thinking of how to comfort him, she wrapped her arms around his waist and patted his back, just as he held her: “I wasn’t rejecting you…” Actually, she was.
Unable to defend herself, she skipped over that subject: “Let me hold you.”
“Mm.” Yu Lingxin rubbed his forehead against hers, warm and tender.
The candles in the bedchamber flickered dimly—only a few were lit, casting a warm, honey-thick glow. They pressed close together on the narrow couch, their body heat mingling.
Yu Lingxin was uncomfortable, trying to make room for Jiang Nong, but he stayed perfectly still—only speaking when she occasionally asked him something.
The dimness made everything feel like a dream—as if moving or speaking too much would wake it. Yu Lingxin had always had such dreams, only to wake to nothing. He disliked living in illusions—his stubborn insistence that Jiang Nong love the real him was proof enough. So he had grown to hate those dreams, and eventually stopped having them. But if he could dream of a happy ending with Jiang Nong again, he would still be glad.
Jiang Nong asked how he had died, how old he was.
Yu Lingxin couldn’t remember. He thought for a long time and said: “Yu Lingyin was thirteen or twelve? Life lost its meaning, so I wanted to die. Better to die early and avoid the trouble.”
He remembered Xiaoman’s age clearly, but had probably forgotten his own.
Jiang Nong’s throat felt stuffed with wet cotton. She wiped her nose and tears on his lapel: “Call it a love-suicide—don’t make it sound so casual.”
Yu Lingxin didn’t argue.
“I heard of a sorcerer beyond the Eastern Sea who could reverse time, sending souls back to the past or future. I wanted to try it—and it worked. I really did go back. There were some negligible side effects, though.”
“What?”
Yu Lingxin pressed his hand to her face and asked: “Can you feel it?”
His fingertips were rough, with a faint coolness, brushing gently against her cheek—then gone.
Jiang Nong frowned, thought for a long time, fumbled around, and shook her head: “No.”
“After I came back, my body was always cold. Maybe ghosts just don’t have warmth…” He got no further before Jiang Nong’s elbow caught him hard.
Yu Lingxin was too happy, too smug—he had confessed without thinking, completely forgetting how he had used this very thing to play pitiful, how he had claimed to have lost blood saving Chao Ning, and how he had acted frail so Jiang Nong would care for him. He deserved that hit.
He coughed, gripping the railing of the couch.
After hitting him, Jiang Nong felt bad and hugged him again: “But one thing’s separate from another—even though I hit you, I still feel sorry for you.”
It was a strange logic, but Yu Lingxin was quite receptive to it.
Jiang Nong hit him—she loved him so much. If she didn’t hit others, only him, that meant something.
Yu Lingxin had never liked talking about his past life before. It would have made him seem like a groveling lapdog, undignified. Now, he was afraid Jiang Nong would feel sorry for him.
He could play pitiful where it didn’t matter—but not truly be pitiful and make her uncomfortable.
They both had their own twisted, internally consistent logic.
After they’d been clinging to each other for a while, Jiang Nong suddenly remembered that Xiaoman had still been young when Yu Lingxin died. Though she trusted he had arranged things well, she couldn’t help worrying, and asked what he had done for Xiaoman before he died.
Yu Lingxin had been enjoying her soft, fragrant hands stroking his hair and cheeks, the sweet murmurs of love—so happy. Yet now she was talking about the child again.
This was the trouble with married couples who had children—talk always drifted back to the kids. And the child wasn’t even here. If Xiaoman were actually present, with her clingy, talkative nature, Yu Lingxin wouldn’t even get a word in edgewise.
He felt an inexplicable surge of irritation, though he dared not tell Jiang Nong he was unhappy about her beloved little treasure. After a long pause, he said calmly: “Don’t worry. I gave her everything I could—above all others, at the peak of power. How would I dare show any disrespect to your heart’s darling?”
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