Chief Eunuch Wei had served the Empress Dowager for many years and rarely ventured out, yet he was thoroughly informed of everything within the palace. He bowed slightly and said: “Your Highness, that is the Ninth Princess, born to Lady Song. She is sixteen this year, born on the eighth day of the fourth month. Her name is Jiang Nong—nong from the line in the Book of Songs, ‘How magnificent the blossom.’ Her childhood name is Nongnong.”
Empress Dowager Fu seemed lost in thought for a moment before coming back to herself: “She’ll be seventeen next year—such a lovely age. Such a pretty child. And a well-chosen name too.”
“Your Highness, please take care of yourself,” Eunuch Wei said tactfully, lowering his posture further without following up on her remark.
The Empress Dowager let out a soft sigh, gathered her thoughts, and withdrew her gaze.
As dusk fell, bonfires were lit one after another. Their bright, warm flames dispelled the autumn chill. Everyone looked on eagerly, waiting for the hunters to return with their quarry.
What returned, however, was not news of a bountiful hunt, but two colonels riding in fast, ahead of the main party. Behind them, the Imperial Guard rode in a semicircular formation, escorting the young lords out of the dense forest.
The two colonels dismounted crisply and dropped to their knees, their clothes stained with dried, purplish blood.
“Your Majesty—assassins appeared in the forest, seemingly targeting Prince Chao Ning. We have failed to capture any alive.”
Emperor Zhengyuan’s expression shifted. He rose and looked at Chao Ning, who was similarly drenched in blood and surrounded in the middle of the group: “It seems some vile elements wish to disrupt the friendship between our two states. Are you injured?”
Chao Ning was the Dang king’s most beloved son—even if not the crown prince, any mishap on Xi soil would be a troublesome affair.
Chao Ning looked dazed. His usually bright eyes now seemed scattered and unfocused. He bowed: “Thank you for your concern, Your Majesty. I am unharmed.”
The colonel continued: “The hostage prince of Tan took an arrow meant for Prince Chao Ning. His condition is critical—the imperial physicians are attending to him.”
“Only Yu Lingxin was injured?”
“Yes.”
Upon hearing that only Yu Lingxin had been hurt, the ministers—and even the emperor himself—visibly relaxed.
The envoy from Tan stepped forward indignantly from the crowd, cupping his hands: “Though Prince Xin has been sent as a hostage to your Xi Kingdom, he is still a royal heir of our sovereign—a person of noble status. Now his life hangs in the balance. Emperor of Xi, you owe us an explanation!”
Everyone knew full well that the Tan envoy was not truly fighting for Yu Lingxin, but simply seizing the opportunity to stir up trouble and extort concessions.
Emperor Zhengyuan understood this perfectly, and wished to smooth things over. After all, the death of one Yu Lingxin was far easier to handle than if any other envoy had been injured: “I am deeply grieved by this as well. This tragedy is the result of lax security in my kingdom. As a gesture of apology, I offer one hundred taels of gold and one hundred fine horses.”
Tan was weak—pressing further would only expose their lack of leverage. After a show of reluctance, they accepted.
Yu Lingxin’s life had thus been priced in a few casual exchanges.
They had only been at Nishan for three days; to turn back immediately over a few assassins would undermine the imperial dignity. Soldiers were hastily transferred from nearby Tiger Guard garrisons to reinforce patrols, and the hunt for the assassins’ trail was intensified. They vowed to search every inch of ground to give Chao Ning a proper accounting.
The plan Chao Ning and Jiang Nong had originally devised was to have men pose as assassins attacking Chao Ning, making it appear that Yu Lingxin had been caught in the crossfire. If necessary, Chao Ning could even shed a little blood to remove all suspicion from himself—he too would be a victim.
As for Yu Lingxin’s death, a bit of compensation to Tan would suffice. The true culprits would never be found. Once Chao Ning left Xi, if he didn’t press the matter, the whole affair would be put to rest—within a few months, no one would speak of it again.
It was a flawless scheme.
No one could ever imagine that anyone would go to such lengths to kill an unpopular hostage prince like Yu Lingxin. They would simply think him terribly unlucky.
With his reputation as a calamity, such a ridiculous and miserable end was hardly surprising.
The plan had succeeded—Jiang Nong should have felt relieved. But instead, she felt no lightness at all. Her heart only grew heavier.
Chao Ning had washed up and changed into fresh clothes before taking his seat again. There was no joy on his face—rather, he seemed restless and uneasy.
His eyes met Jiang Nong’s from time to time, and she could see the worry in them.
Jiang Nong realized that something had gone awry from their plan.
In the midst of the banquet, Chao Ning excused himself, claiming he needed to check on Yu Lingxin, and left early.
Jiang Nong also pleaded that she could not hold her liquor and departed. The two met on the path to Yu Lingxin’s tent.
“What happened?” Jiang Nong pressed.
Chao Ning took a deep breath, tipped his head back, and gazed at the cold, clear moon hanging high above, shedding its chill light. His heart could not find peace. His lips parted and closed several times, but no words came. He could only walk in silence with his hands clasped behind his back.
After some time, the sounds of feasting and laughter faded behind them, leaving only the faint, ghostly notes of string and wind instruments. The closer they drew to Yu Lingxin’s tent, the more remote the surroundings became—nothing but the two of them and their close attendants nearby.
Suddenly he asked Jiang Nong: “Nongnong, what does Yu Lingxin look like to you? I mean the Yu Lingxin now—not the future one.”
Jiang Nong was silent for a long moment, then said: “A good person. A pitiable good person.”
Chao Ning suddenly crouched down, clutched his head, and let out a sharp cry—a grown man, yet his voice carried a hint of a sob: “Honestly, I don’t know what to do anymore! That arrow was clearly aimed at me—I was ready to take the hit. Who knew he would suddenly rush out and shield me? Do you know—my clothes were soaked through with his blood. So hot… Nongnong, I truly don’t know what to do.”
“I’ve always thought that someone raised with such unfair treatment would have a dark heart beneath the surface—just well hidden. Or that power changes a person, makes them ruthless. That’s why Yu Lingxin became so cruel in the future. But now, I really don’t know what could happen to turn someone this kind into that.”
“Nongnong, I realize—it only makes sense that you love him, that your heart aches for him. Even I can’t bring myself to be cruel to him. He truly is a good person—the greatest good person in the world…”
Chao Ning was still murmuring to himself when a flash of white light streaked before Jiang Nong’s eyes. Up until now, she had only been softhearted—unable to bring herself to harm Yu Lingxin. But now, she suddenly questioned herself: Was killing Yu Lingxin even right?
He was about to lose his life saving Chao Ning. He was still a good person now. Should she kill a good person before they turned bad?
Then who was she actually killing—a good man or a bad one?
Across two lifetimes, the image of Yu Lingxin when he first appeared before her remained crystal clear.
He was still young back then—shorter than her. He had been brought into the palace, carrying a bundle of dried fruit he’d made himself, trembling as he stood among the crowd—thin as a bamboo pole. He wanted to make friends with the others his age, so he carefully offered them his gifts one by one, smiling shyly.
No one wanted his things. Jiang Nong was the only one who accepted. He was so surprised that his face flushed crimson. He looked at her with wide eyes, and from that day on, his gaze always followed her.
He hadn’t done anything wrong yet. He was only a pitiable soul who had always suffered and been bullied. Everyone picked on him—was she going to be just like them?
The wavering in Jiang Nong’s heart rippled like water. She wiped her eyes, gathered her skirts, and sprinted toward Yu Lingxin’s tent.
From the moment of her rebirth, she had not ceased praying for Yu Lingxin to die—that if he died, none of the future would happen. But now, all she wanted was for him to live.
Such a good person—he had to live!
It didn’t matter if he became deranged in the future—that was the future. Nothing had happened yet. She would help him—help a very, very good person avoid being mistreated, and never fall into darkness.
“Wait for me—I’ll come with you.” Chao Ning pursed his lips, stood up, brushed the grass off his robes, and followed after her.
The farther they walked, the more desolate it became, until even the lantern light grew sparse. The music from the banquet faded into silence, leaving only the rustle of wind through leaves, the chirping of insects, and the piercing cries of night owls.
After Yu Lingxin was injured, the other hostage who shared his tent had moved out. Now the tent blazed with lantern light, with imperial physicians bustling in and out, and medicine attendants carrying out bowls of water stained red with blood.
As they drew closer, the thick smell of blood grew overwhelming.
Only then did Jiang Nong notice the dried, black-red patches of blood on Chao Ning’s clothes—so much of it. How much blood could one person have?
Chao Ning’s brow was deeply furrowed as he entered the tent with her: “The physicians I brought from Dang are here too. Whether he can be saved…”
The tent was packed with people. The mingled scents of medicine and blood were not pleasant. The physicians all bowed to them.
Yu Lingxin lay motionless on the bed, his breathing faint, his hair covering half his face. Linen bandages were tightly bound across his chest; layer after layer of hemostatic powder had been applied, yet blood still seeped through the wound.
“How is he?”
The imperial physician-in-chief hesitated, then carefully reported: “Not optimistic, I’m afraid. The wound nearly reached his heart—though that’s not the main issue. The journey back was rough, and he lost too much blood. Without a potent remedy, he has only these two or three days. In about half an hour, the anesthetic will wear off. If there’s anything to say…”
The medicine attendant gasped: “He’s awake—he’s conscious.”
The physicians stepped aside to let the two approach the bedside, ready for final words.
Overwhelmed with mixed emotions, Jiang Nong stepped forward and knelt by his bed.
At the slightest movement from Yu Lingxin, a gush of blood surged out, soaking through the linen. Jiang Nong wanted to press down on his wound but didn’t know if it would make things worse. She hurriedly called for a physician.
“It hurts, Sister… it hurts so much…” Yu Lingxin was very docile, only repeating how much it hurt, reaching for her hand.
Jiang Nong quickly placed her hand in his. He held it and, as if the anesthetic had kicked in again, still managed a faint smile.
His hand was cold. Jiang Nong clasped it with both hands, trying to warm him.
Yu Lingxin bore the pain remarkably well—he didn’t cry, didn’t scream. Only the taut veins in his neck betrayed his suffering. Instead, he comforted Jiang Nong, whispering: “It doesn’t hurt anymore… Sister, don’t cry… Prince Chao Ning… as long as he’s safe… I… I know I’m not worthy of you… Sister and Prince Chao Ning… will be happy… happy…”
His body convulsed, and he let out a violent cough, followed by a stream of blood that stained half his face.
“Physician! Physician!” Jiang Nong called frantically, clumsily wiping the blood from Yu Lingxin’s face. The thick, hot blood covered her hands and soaked her sleeves. Now she understood what Chao Ning meant about Yu Lingxin’s blood being so hot—it truly burned, and her heart burned with it.
All the grievances of the past life dissolved in an instant. The Yu Lingxin of this moment was the Yu Lingxin of this moment—the future tyrant Yu Lingxin was another person entirely.
Jiang Nong could not hate this Yu Lingxin—this innocent, kind boy who would give his life to save the one his beloved loved, and find happiness simply in her happiness.
Several physicians stepped forward and quickly applied acupuncture to stem the bleeding.
Covered in blood, Jiang Nong pressed Yu Lingxin’s cold hand against her forehead, praying he would live.
Even Chao Ning could not bear it. Red-eyed, he asked: “What medicine? What medicine can save him? I’ll find a way!”
The physician-in-chief hesitated, then said: “A century-old blood ginseng can save even a woman hemorrhaging during childbirth—it might also save Prince Xin’s life. But it is extremely precious—the various royal houses have only a few roots each.”
If Chao Ning asked his father, he would surely get one—but Dang was a thousand miles away. The fastest round trip would take three to five days. Yu Lingxin couldn’t last that long.
If Emperor Zhengyuan wanted to save Yu Lingxin, he would have offered the ginseng already. In his eyes, Yu Lingxin was not worth a blood ginseng. His life was only worth a hundred taels of gold and a hundred horses—and those things couldn’t buy a single root.
Holding Yu Lingxin’s hand, Jiang Nong’s fingers anxiously stroked the back of his hand. Suddenly she looked up: “The Empress Dowager must have one…”
The physicians’ expressions grew even more troubled. The Empress Dowager had withdrawn from worldly affairs for years—expecting her to part with a blood ginseng to save some unlucky hostage was utterly far-fetched.
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