He kept his word and didn’t trouble her again.
Only, his arm stayed wrapped around her waist.
His scorching chest pressed against her back.
Each rise and fall of his breathing made her unbearably uneasy.
She was afraid that if he held her for too long, he would notice something amiss.
Jiang Yu pushed him away and wriggled toward the inside.
Muttering a single word—“Hot”—she quickly rolled herself up tightly in the thin quilt.
After summer began, she’d complained he was too warm.
Usually, after hugging for a short while, she wouldn’t let him hold her anymore.
Xiao Lingzhou was already used to it.
But tonight, he asked oddly, “Didn’t Qingqing say it was hot? Why are you wrapping yourself up so tightly?”
As he spoke, he reached out to pull at her quilt. “Be good. I won’t hold you—don’t let yourself overheat.”
The moment Jiang Yu heard that voice—so gentle it could drown a person—and that intimate “Qingqing,” goosebumps rose all over her body.
Scumbag.
If she didn’t know his fiancée was named Su Yueqing, she might really have thought it was a pet name meant just for her.
When he called her “Qingqing” in bed, was he calling her—or that fiancée of his?
A nameless anger flared in Jiang Yu’s chest.
To avoid letting Xiao Lingzhou sense anything wrong, she swallowed the emotion, pretended to be asleep, gave a vague, muffled response, and kicked the quilt away.
Then she heard the man sigh helplessly, rescue the quilt trapped under her legs, and drape it back over her.
Before long, steady breathing sounded beside her. Jiang Yu finally let out a breath, thinking she’d managed to muddle through the night.
…
At dawn, pale fish-belly white quietly spread across the horizon.
Among the village houses, thin curls of cooking smoke rose slowly, blending into the brightening sky.
Xiao Lingzhou was used to rising early. As usual, he kissed Jiang Yu’s forehead, tucked in the quilt, and got up lightly to dress.
When the door closed, Jiang Yu opened her eyes. The tension in her body finally eased.
After a night of processing it all, she had accepted the reality that Xiao Lingzhou was a prince.
Curled up beneath the quilt, she began silently planning her future.
From his conversation with his subordinates the night before, she’d gleaned several things.
First, he had been poisoned—and it would be completely cured in a month.
Second, he had a fiancée in the capital, and from his words, he would marry her once he returned.
Third, he had assigned people to protect her and would take her with him.
Thinking of this reignited her anger.
She couldn’t understand—if he was going to marry, why bring her to the capital?
So she could become one woman among many in his inner household?
If she’d known his true identity from the start, she wouldn’t have flirted with him even if he were devastatingly handsome.
She was clear-headed and self-aware.
She didn’t think that being a modern transmigrant made her special.
Nor had she ever dreamed of being like the heroines of transmigration novels—
Having some breathtaking, time-crossing romance with a prince, a general, or an emperor.
She was just an ordinary college student.
She loved beauty, loved money, and loved good looks.
She only wanted to marry a man of similar status, and live a simple, happy life.
In this era, she was nothing more than an ordinary village girl.
She could make the schoolteacher Xiao Lingzhou belong to her alone for a lifetime.
But Prince Xiao Lingzhou? Impossible.
In ancient times, men having multiple wives and concubines was normal.
As an imperial noble, raised in such an environment, Xiao Lingzhou would only have more women, not fewer.
She came from modern society, steeped in the idea of monogamy.
Sharing one man “legitimately” with a bunch of other women would disgust her to death.
Used to a free and comfortable life, she didn’t want to be trapped in a walled residence, living off a man’s favor.
Besides, from the very beginning she’d only been greedy for Xiao Lingzhou’s looks—she wasn’t madly in love with him.
With their vast difference in status and opposing mindsets, they were never meant to belong to the same world.
So she decided—
To run away.
Before that, she had to act as if everything were normal. She couldn’t let anything slip in front of Xiao Lingzhou.
Having made up her mind, she quickly climbed out of bed to get dressed.
She happened to be going into the city today. Since she was planning to flee, she needed to sell her goods first, prepare money, and proceed step by step.
As she was thinking this, Xiao Lingzhou pushed the door open and entered—dressed in a simple white robe, black hair tied with a ribbon, noble and handsome.
Jiang Yu thought: how could someone with such ethereal beauty possibly be just an ordinary schoolteacher?
It had been her lust-clouded mind that stopped her from ever suspecting his identity.
Seeing her dazed, Xiao Lingzhou walked over and placed his calloused palm on her forehead. “Why do you look so distracted? Are you feeling unwell? Should I ask Doctor Li to come take a look?”
He shouldn’t have mentioned it.
The moment he did, Jiang Yu remembered that Doctor Li had also arrived in Zhangjia Village last year and was very close to him.
So everything had left traces after all.
Doctor Li was Xiao Lingzhou’s man.
Meeting his gentle phoenix eyes filled with concern, Jiang Yu was momentarily dazed.
If she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes,
She never could have connected the warm, mild man before her with the ruthless figure from the bamboo grove who’d snapped an assassin’s neck without blinking.
Suppressing the turmoil inside her, she looped her arm through Xiao Lingzhou’s and acted coquettish. “I’m fine. Don’t keep bothering Doctor Li over nothing. Is breakfast ready? I’m hungry.”
“It’ll be ready soon.” Xiao Lingzhou brushed her cheek with his thumb. “Go wash up first. I’ll check on the porridge.”
She answered crisply and pushed him along. “Go on. I don’t want to eat burnt porridge.”
He nodded and turned to leave.
Watching his back, a complicated look flashed through Jiang Yu’s eyes.
At most, she had only one month left of days like this.
After breakfast, Xiao Lingzhou walked Jiang Yu to the village entrance. Only after she climbed onto the ox cart did he head to the school.
Once in the city,
Jiang Yu sold the latest batch of rouge she’d made at just ten percent above cost.
Weighing the twenty-five taels of silver in her hand, she murmured, “Money really isn’t easy to earn.”
She’d worked for over a month, using the best materials for the rouge, and in the end had only sold it for twenty-five taels.
If she weren’t in a rush to get rid of it, selling it bit by bit would’ve earned at least fifty taels.
Sighing, she carefully tucked the silver away.
To run, the first thing she needed to solve was the travel permit.
The dynasty she lived in was called the Great Zhao. Population movement between prefectures and counties was strictly controlled—without a permit, she couldn’t go anywhere.
If she openly went to the authorities to apply for one, her personal details and destination would be recorded.
Xiao Lingzhou was a prince. With a single check, her whereabouts would be exposed.
So she had to spend some money and have someone make a fake permit for her.
…
“Sorry, miss. My master has gone on a long trip. He won’t be back for half a month. Come again then.”
Outside a secluded courtyard, Jiang Yu—wearing a bamboo hat—stopped the youth who was about to close the door. “Wait.”
Under the boy’s gaze, she took a silver ingot from her pouch and pressed it into his hand. “Young sir, could I ask you to help with something?”
After writing her request on paper and handing it to him, Jiang Yu paid half as a deposit, promising to pay the remainder when she came to collect the fake travel permit.
She’d gone to great lengths to shake off Xiao Lingzhou’s people to find this place—she didn’t want to return empty-handed.
Even if the man wasn’t there, placing an order was just as good. She could come back to collect it later.
After winding her way back to the Rouge Pavilion, Jiang Yu greeted the shopkeeper and left.
She bought a few more necessities and hurried back to Zhangjia Village before nightfall.
From far away, sitting on the ox cart, she saw that familiar white figure standing at the village entrance.