Pei Yanchuan sat down and poured a cup of tea. “I originally intended to catch the turtles in a jar, but unexpectedly, you killed them all.”
Seeing Jiang Wanning’s slight embarrassment, he pointed to the seat opposite him. “Since you’re here, have a cup of tea before you leave.”
Jiang Wanning unceremoniously sat in the seat right next to Pei Yanchuan.
Pei Yanchuan’s hand froze as he moved to push the teacup; he adjusted his direction and placed the cup directly in front of her. Then, he pulled a piece of letter paper from his robes. “It’s a coincidence that you came.”
Jiang Wanning took the paper and opened it. “We aren’t even married yet, and you’re already thinking about divorce?”
“This Prince is afflicted with a strange poison; my days are numbered.”
“With this letter of divorce in the future, if you wish to remarry, it will be easier for you.”
“If that’s the case, then why did you agree to the marriage in the first place?”
Pei Yanchuan thought to himself: Wasn’t it you who pressured me, using the Marquis’s Manor one moment and the Emperor the next?
Jiang Wanning tore the divorce letter to pieces. “Your Highness, between you and me, there is only widowhood—there is no divorce.”
“Anyone who marries Jiang Wanning will have a lifespan longer than a tortoise. You will not die.”
Having said her piece, Jiang Wanning stood up and left.
The moment the door closed, a man stepped out from behind the screen. “Hahaha! Ah-Chuan, this girl is truly extraordinary.”
Pei Yanchuan stood up and bowed. “Your Majesty.”
The young man waved his hand. “We are outside, not in the palace. No need for such formalities.”
As he spoke, the Emperor, Xiao Yu, leaned toward the window. “I knew there was something fishy about that imperial decree you asked for. It turns out you were seeking it for yourself.”
Pei Yanchuan remained silent.
The reason the decree had been written for the “Future Consort of the Prince of Langya” rather than explicitly naming Pei Anqing was due to his own selfishness. Holding that decree felt as if the marriage had been granted to him—and in the end, it truly had become his.
“Your Highness.”
“Has she left?”
“Yes. This servant saw Miss Jiang down the stairs. Miss Jiang asked me to bring you a message…”
“What message? Speak up, let me hear it,” the Emperor Xiao Yu asked with interest, fluttering his fan.
The servant glanced at the Prince of Langya and spoke slowly, “Miss Jiang said… the Prince’s handkerchief is really ugly.”
Xiao Yu leaned back lazily against his chair. “It is indeed ugly.”
Pei Yanchuan looked down at the handkerchief on the table, a slight curve appearing at the corner of his lips.
She was the one who had given it to him, but the little girl had clearly forgotten all about it.
“It seems today was another wasted effort.”
“I beg Your Majesty’s forgiveness,” Pei Yanchuan said, bowing.
“I was just speaking casually,” Xiao Yu waved him off. “Even if we had caught them this time, it’s unlikely we could have convicted that ‘good uncle’ of mine. They want to assassinate you so they can sever my right hand. Does my right hand truly think it’s so easily severed?”
Pei Yanchuan did not respond.
“But, Ah-Chuan, your body…?”
“This subject can hold on for a while longer,” Pei Yanchuan said. “Rest assured, Your Majesty, before I die, I will certainly clear the obstacles for you.”
The current Emperor, Xiao Yu, had only been on the throne for three years. King Qi was ambitious, and the Eldest Princess was restless. The Dongling Kingdom possessed six hundred thousand troops; three hundred thousand were in Pei Yanchuan’s hands, and fifty thousand of the Imperial Guard only followed the Emperor’s orders. The rest were in the hands of King Qi and the Eldest Princess.
The two showed every sign of forming an alliance. For a time, the court was split between the New Emperor’s faction, led by Pei Yanchuan, and the opposition faction, led by King Qi. They believed the late Emperor’s ascension had been illegitimate and that the throne should have belonged to King Qi.
Most of Pei Yanchuan’s army was scattered along the borders guarding cities. Within the capital, King Qi and the Eldest Princess held the advantage.
Hearing this, Emperor Xiao Yu felt a slight sense of relief. Pei Yanchuan could not die.
“Ah-Chuan, I need you. I did in the past, I do now, and I will in the future.”
“As long as Your Majesty needs me, this subject will always be here.”
After Pei Yanchuan withdrew, Xiao Yu watched his departing figure through the window overlooking the street.
“Tell me, am I being too selfish? I clearly know who killed Ah-Chuan’s family, yet I have never told him.”
“Your Majesty cares for the people; this move is also for the Prince of Langya’s own good.”
Xiao Yu nodded. “You are right. At first, I was afraid he would be young and impulsive. Later, I was afraid that without the support of hatred, he would die—and I still need him. But now it seems that the Jiang girl will also become something for Ah-Chuan to care about.” The Emperor’s lips curled into a smile.
Jiang Wanning and Shen Ruzhi stayed out so late that they simply went straight back to the Shen Manor. After chatting with Shen Zhao for a while, the two lay inside the coffin in the courtyard to look at the stars.
“It’s just like when we were little. It’s so good,” Shen Ruzhi said, turning to look at Jiang Wanning. “Now that you have the power of household management in your hands, you must never be soft-hearted again.”
Jiang Wanning also turned to look at Shen Ruzhi. “Don’t worry, I won’t. This power hasn’t been completely reclaimed yet.”
In her previous life, after Concubine Liu took over the household, she replaced batch after batch of people until they all became her confidants. Including the shops outside, she feared half had already fallen into Concubine Liu’s hands. She had to take it all back.
“That’s good.” Shen Ruzhi squinted and smiled. “Ningning, I hope you are happy.”
“I definitely will be,” Jiang Wanning said. “We will both be happy.”
Early the next morning.
The two climbed out of the coffin. After a quick wash, Shen Ruzhi accompanied Jiang Wanning to the Grand Preceptor’s Manor.
Jiang Wanning looked up at the door plaque bestowed by the late Emperor’s own hand, her heart filled with mixed emotions.
Her maternal grandmother had passed away early, leaving only her mother as the sole daughter. Now, in the vast Grand Preceptor’s Manor, her grandfather was all alone. In her previous life, her grandfather had always wanted her to spend more time with him, but to see Pei Anqing more often, she had always let Jiang Wanru go in her stead, saying that since they were both granddaughters, it didn’t matter who visited.
Thinking back to her former self, Jiang Wanning wished she could slap herself to death.
“The Little Miss is here? Is it really the Little Miss?” The one who opened the door was an old man with white hair.
“Grandpa Zhao,” Jiang Wanning responded with a smile. “I’ve come to see Grandfather.”
Her grandfather was now seventy-three. Aside from a few servants for cooking and cleaning, only Steward Zhao remained by his side. Steward Zhao had followed her grandfather since childhood and was now sixty-eight.
“Quick, come in.” Steward Zhao happily wiped his tears with his sleeve. He hurried his steps, shakily heading toward the front hall, shouting as he went, “Old Master! The Little Miss is here! The Little Miss has come to see you!”
“Ningning, you really weren’t a decent human being before,” Shen Ruzhi whispered. “You ignored everything for that scumbag.”
Jiang Wanning nodded. “Indeed. Fortunately, I’ve woken up.”
By the time they finished talking, they reached the front hall.
They heard an aged coughing sound from inside. “Is it that Second Miss again? I’ve said it before—whenever she comes, say I’m not here. Why are you even announcing it?”
“Grandfather.”
Before Steward Zhao could speak, Jiang Wanning had already reached him and knelt on the ground. “Grandfather, Ningning has come to see you. It was Ningning’s fault before; I made Grandfather sad.”
Grand Preceptor Zhou dropped his chopsticks. He rubbed his clouded eyes. “Ning girl? Is it really my Ning girl?”