His Majesty was in a wonderful mood—this was the consensus among all the ministers today.
Yu Lingxin had been half-dead for so long, always looking at them with utter disinterest, that it was rare to see him visibly radiant—as if he’d eaten the flesh of Tang Sanzang himself.
If not for the occasional light cough, one might have thought he wasn’t ill at all and had simply given himself a little vacation.
As court adjourned, Yu Lingxin even had the Yellow Gate attendants distribute festive candies to all the ministers present, and additionally pardoned three thousand minor offenders nationwide.
Clearly, there was good news—great news!
There weren’t many occasions that warranted such fanfare. The last time was the imperial wedding. Naturally, they assumed the central palace was with child—that an imperial heir was on the way.
The first three months of pregnancy couldn’t be announced publicly—they understood!
An heir was good—the heir was the kingdom’s future, the foundation of the state. It would also quell the rumors circulating outside. With a crown prince, their hearts could finally rest easy.
Counting carefully, His Majesty was nearly twenty—not exactly young. It was only natural for a first-time father to be so excited he could barely contain himself.
The entire court was bathed in a festive, joyous atmosphere. Though Yu Lingxin had no idea what the ministers were so cheerfully celebrating, seeing these foolish men offering their congratulations still pleased the imperial heart.
They’d better rejoice in his joy and grieve in his grief—lest they incur his displeasure.
His first court session in some time ended in a rare, harmonious atmosphere of mutual satisfaction.
Yu Lingxin, carrying his blessings with him, returned to the study in high spirits to handle state affairs.
If he hadn’t felt the need to show off his happiness, he probably would have skipped court altogether.
Xunliang had heard crying last night and feared the Empress had truly been ruthless and made a move against His Majesty.
He had known of His Majesty’s plan all along—he’d even personally handed the poison to Rong Mian. His Majesty had already arranged everything after his death and had given Xunliang detailed instructions down to the last detail.
The Empress was soft-hearted and often wavered—many matters would have to be handled by Xunliang.
Beyond that, Xunliang also knew that His Majesty, fearing he might grow too powerful in the future, had left Wei Xiao behind as a counterbalance. He had thought of everything he could for the Empress.
When he saw His Majesty hale and whole this morning, he froze on the spot—tears springing to his eyes.
After all these years, they had come so far, step by step. He had witnessed it all. Seeing His Majesty and Her Highness finally open their hearts to each other—Xunliang was genuinely overjoyed.
He was rarely sentimental, but now he secretly wiped his tears with a handkerchief and instructed his attendant to donate another gilded statue to a temple outside the palace.
It hadn’t been in vain—his daily prayers, his nightly devotions. Heaven had answered, the bodhisattva had opened her eyes, and it had all come to a good end.
Yu Lingxin deliberately dragged his feet, unable to finish his paperwork in the study. He stretched it out until nearly noon. Normally, Jiang Nong would have come to urge him by now—telling him not to slack off, then sitting down to work with him. But today, she still hadn’t appeared.
What was that about? Just last night she’d said she would treat him well, and already she wasn’t keeping her word.
He sprawled lazily over the desk, rustling the memorials noisily. He moved a stack from left to right, then back again—still no sign of Jiang Nong.
“Is the Empress very busy?”
Xunliang had been watching him for a while, long aware of why he was so restless. But since Yu Lingxin wouldn’t ask directly, Xunliang wouldn’t volunteer the information. If he guessed right and spoke up, he’d only earn a cold glare from His Majesty for making him lose face.
Xunliang answered as matter-of-factly as possible: “Has Your Majesty forgotten? Today is the fifteenth—the day court noblewomen come to pay their respects. Her Highness is entertaining the ladies and surely cannot get away.”
Observing Yu Lingxin’s expression, he added: “If I may be so bold, Her Highness must be thinking of you most of all right now. Normally, if you stay in the study too long, she’d have come to check on you by now—she must truly be tied up today.”
Yu Lingxin was very displeased. Didn’t those noblewomen have homes of their own? It was already noon—why weren’t they leaving?
He was the type to say one thing and feel another. Earlier, he’d thought Jiang Nong was pitiful, all alone in the palace without friends, and had hoped she could make some. But now that she actually had friends, he’d be the first to throw a fit. They were only here for a formal visit, and already he was cursing them for not having homes—how could he possibly tolerate Jiang Nong having real companions by her side?
Jiang Nong should love only him, and have only him by her side.
He was her best friend, her best husband, and her most devoted lover.
When the gathering still didn’t break up, Yu Lingxin decided to personally disperse those locust-like ladies clinging to his wife.
Laughter and cheerful voices drifted from Jiaofang Hall, audible even from a distance. He had always known Jiang Nong was popular with women—back in Xi, she’d had plenty of sisters and female companions flocking around her. It was only a matter of time before she became just as beloved here.
If a titled lady gained the Empress’s favor, she could visit the palace frequently. Women would naturally have more in common with each other—which meant the time Jiang Nong could spend with him would be drastically reduced.
Jealousy rose in his heart. He wanted to storm in, disrupt them, drive them all out. They had only just confessed their feelings last night—it was the sweetest time for them, and these people had to spoil the mood.
But though Yu Lingxin was a jealous man, he was also an exceedingly clever one. A clever man, when faced with his wife’s social engagements, would not barge in shouting and overturning tables, ruining the atmosphere and earning his wife’s disdain.
A clever man would use his water-like tolerance, thoughtfulness, and understanding to make his virtuous wife feel pity, guilt, and affection for him—prompting her to willingly return to the family fold, placing him above all else, even forsaking other relationships for him.
Concretely, this meant Yu Lingxin personally cooked, swiftly preparing a table of small dishes, and casually dusted some flour onto his own hair. After Jiang Nong had finished hosting the noblewomen for their midday meal, she entered the hall to find Yu Lingxin resting his head on his arm, dozing beside a table of exquisite food and wine.
It was just past noon, nearing early summer. Doors and windows stood open, green shade mingling with brilliant sunlight that spilled across Yu Lingxin’s handsome profile. A bit of flour still clung to his forehead. Though it was midday, the food and wine had long gone cold—he must have been sitting there waiting for her for a long time.
In an instant, Jiang Nong was flooded with guilt, tenderness, and affection. Though she had sent word to Yu Lingxin earlier, who knew he would silently wait for her all this time?
She inwardly cursed herself—she was utterly heartless.
She carefully knelt beside him, raised her hand, gently brushed his forehead, and wiped away the flour on his face.
As if awakened by her touch, Yu Lingxin slowly opened his eyes, pressed his forehead, and rubbed his temples—as if perfectly choreographed, his cheek bathed in a thin layer of golden sunlight, his long lashes trembling like wings about to take flight. Jiang Nong was momentarily transfixed.
“I must have fallen asleep.”
“Didn’t I tell you not to wait for me for lunch? You’ve been here so long—aren’t you hungry?”
Yu Lingxin gave her a smile: “But I just learned a few new dishes and wanted you to taste them.”
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