His tone was utterly sincere—but the content was dripping with sarcasm.
When Jiang Nong heard his answer, her first reaction was to wonder if she’d misunderstood. It seemed beyond her imagination—a father doting on his daughter, as she understood it, meant cherishing her like a treasure, choosing a husband she liked for her, and letting her live happily ever after.
But she couldn’t think of any other explanation, so she asked cautiously: “You made her Crown Prince?”
“Mhm,” Yu Lingxin hummed proudly, waiting for her praise—and, still feeling it wasn’t enough, added: “With all five kingdoms united, she will be the one and only Empress.”
Jiang Nong shot upright, her heart racing. She cupped his face and kissed the tip of his nose, asking loudly: “Really?”
She worried about the hardships her child might face—yet she also felt a weight lift from her heart, a surge of relief and comfort.
Yu Lingxin’s heart softened instantly. He kissed the tip of her nose in return, unsatisfied—like a thirsty traveler finding a spring, he greedily kissed her eyelids, her brow, the corners of her lips. Mimicking her tone, his voice softened too: “Really.”
Yu Lingxin had always said that power wasn’t the same as freedom—but having power always gave you more choices than having none. So he would pass on power to his wife and to her children.
In his heart, Yu Lingyin was first Jiang Nong’s child—only then would he find ways to be good to her. Whenever he mentioned the child to Jiang Nong, he used phrases like “your little darling” or “your daughter.”
Which had made Jiang Nong think at first that he didn’t believe Xiaoman was his child.
“The ministers always questioned her birth. And she’s a girl—making her Crown Prince must have been terribly difficult and exhausting.”
Yu Lingxin really had given Xiaoman everything he could.
The child was born of Jiang Nong, and she was responsible for her. Her greatest regret was giving birth to Xiaoman but failing to raise her properly. In the past, she had felt such guilt, worrying about how her child would fare after she was gone. Yu Lingxin might not have been the most perfect father, but he had given everything he had to Xiaoman. And for that, Jiang Nong loved him all the more.
He had done so much, yet never spoke of it.
“Then kiss me, and I’ll tell you whether it was hard or not.” He offered his face. Jiang Nong’s heart was warm—even without him asking, she wanted to kiss him.
She chose his chin, which she’d called prickly just moments ago: “It’s not that prickly, actually. It’s fine. What you did must have been hard—thank you, Yu Lingxin. I’m truly grateful to you. You’re the best, best father.”
Jiang Nong had always been good with words, skilled at making people happy. In the past, when she and Yu Lingxin had been on good terms, they’d rarely met alone—and she’d said even fewer sweet words to him. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have replayed her compliment about his eyes over and over.
After their relationship soured, she stopped saying anything kind to him altogether.
Now, just a few soft words from Jiang Nong made Yu Lingxin’s whole body melt. If she had said “best husband” instead of “best father,” he might have fainted on the spot.
He didn’t move for a long time. Jiang Nong thought he was dissatisfied, so she leaned down and kissed his eyelids, the tip of his nose, and his lips—just as he had kissed her—then pulled back, her eyes bright as she looked at him.
Yu Lingxin touched his lips, covered his face to hide his blush, and rolled halfway across the couch before calming down: “What are you doing?”
“Doing what?”
Yu Lingxin wouldn’t say. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he finally answered her earlier question: “It wasn’t hard. I’m a tyrant—do you know what a tyrant is?”
Jiang Nong paused, having forgotten about that: “I’ve heard a little about it.”
“A tyrant means those who follow me prosper, those who oppose me perish. No one can defy my will. Yu Lingyin as Crown Prince is both rightful and reasonable. By blood, she is the legitimate direct heir of the royal family—the only imperial offspring. By ability, she is intelligent and astute, treats her subordinates with respect, and is magnanimous toward others. With the five kingdoms united after years of war and displacement, the people need a benevolent ruler to restore peace and stability.”
Jiang Nong listened, slightly stunned. Though she had been a princess and had helped Yu Lingxin with governance for a time, having grown up in the deep palace, her understanding of power always seemed limited—like a leaf blocking her view. She could imagine someone like Jiang Su seizing power after supporting her husband’s family, but she had never dared imagine a princess legitimately inheriting the throne.
Now, it felt like the clouds had parted to reveal clear skies.
“I couldn’t entrust her future to someone else—to gamble on another person’s conscience and sincerity. That would be a disservice to my wife beneath the Nine Springs. I had to give her the power to shape her own fate and future.”
Having said this, Yu Lingxin pressed his cheek against hers, subtly hoping for praise.
Every time he bared his heart, he needed positive reinforcement—otherwise he would regret having said too much, too sentimentally, and wouldn’t speak again next time.
If he had ever said things like this before, he and Jiang Nong would have reconciled long ago. But he wouldn’t speak until he was certain of the other’s feelings.
Jiang Nong understood—she could read his eyes. And besides, Yu Lingxin’s declarations today had come like a floodgate opening.
She had to think of how to praise him—sweetly, sincerely, but not too mushy. He had been genuine with her; she wouldn’t be perfunctory with him.
Two lifetimes as husband and wife—aside from that distant, tentative affection in their youth—this was the first time they had openly laid their love bare. The sudden shift in their relationship felt unfamiliar to both of them.
Saying “hate” was easy—doing hateful things was easy, too. They were far more practiced at navigating resentment. But they didn’t know how to act like two lovebirds, all sticky and sweet. Beyond kissing and holding each other, even saying affectionate words felt awkward and shy.
Jiang Nong thought for a long time. The sweet talk and coquettishness that came so easily with Jiang Yuan and the others wouldn’t come out for Yu Lingxin. So she tentatively hooked her pinky around his, rubbing her thumb over his skin. Yu Lingxin felt a ticklish warmth, his heart rippling with a tender, youthful flutter.
Jiang Nong then took his hand, cradling it in both of hers, holding it, stroking each of his fingertips.
She lowered her eyelids, her lashes trembling rapidly.
The warmth of her palm pressed against his, traveling from the pulse at his wrist all the way to his heart.
The room was utterly silent, their heartbeats resonating—thump, thump, thump—beating in unison, flowing through their joined hands.
Yu Lingxin’s lashes trembled too, his gaze dropping.
Jiang Nong holding his hand in this moment spoke louder than a thousand words—more beautiful than any love confession.
What Yu Lingxin sought wasn’t really her sweet words. He only wanted moments like this—day and night, hour after hour.
Jiang Nong tilted her head, guided his hand, and pressed her cheek against his palm, nuzzling it. She looked up at him and said very seriously: “You’ve shown me your true feelings, and I’ll give you my sincerity too. There’s so much I don’t know about the previous life—and I suspect you won’t tell me. I might not do everything perfectly in the future—but I will treat you well.”
Having said that, she studied his expression and found something off. Her heart nearly stopped in fright. She rushed to shake him: “What’s wrong? Don’t faint! Should I call the imperial physician?”
Yu Lingxin discreetly pinched his own hand, tugged at her sleeve, and regained his composure. He pressed his forehead, looking a little weak: “No need. Perhaps I haven’t eaten in too long—just a bit dizzy. Some candy or dried fruit should help.”
He pressed his palm back to Jiang Nong’s face, repeating the gesture. Jiang Nong looked up at him in confusion. She didn’t understand, but since he wanted to do it, she pressed her face against his palm again and asked: “Like this?”
Her eyes were large, round, with clear black and white. Her small face was fair and clean, pressed against his hand, lips slightly pursed as she looked at him with puzzled eyes.
Like a kitten—but Yu Lingxin didn’t like kittens. Actually, he didn’t like any animals. But Jiang Nong, who looked like a kitten, was beautiful—and a kitten that looked like Jiang Nong was also very beautiful.
A tidal wave roared in Yu Lingxin’s ears. His heart pounded violently, trying to burst out of his chest. He closed his eyes and nearly fainted again.
He steadied himself, opened his eyes to look, then quickly shut them—opening and closing them repeatedly, barely restraining himself from biting her.
Why was she so adorable?
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