She knew Deng Ying couldn’t fully understand, and after speaking, she lowered her head with a private smile. Though mindful of the person behind her and holding back her laughter, her whole being relaxed. Dropping the poker, she gently swayed her legs while warming her hands by the fire, casually asking Deng Ying, “Is the cloth still cool?”

The person behind her fell silent again.

Yang Wan sighed helplessly, about to stand up to change the cloth when he suddenly spoke again.

“Still cool.”

“Alright.”

Since Deng Ying had spoken, she didn’t insist, hugging her legs as she curled back into her sitting position, “Then you sleep a while. I’ll warm myself by the fire a bit longer before leaving.”

The room wasn’t large, and the charcoal flames cast warm yellow light on the walls. The two sat close together without speaking – one deliberately maintaining physical distance, the other striving to maintain emotional distance. But there was no ill will between them, so the atmosphere wasn’t awkward. Yang Wan even started humming Jay Chou’s “Coral Sea.”

Deng Ying tried to move his leg, but the heart-piercing pain instantly drained his strength. He couldn’t help but draw in a sharp breath.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Please don’t turn around, Miss.”

Yang Wan made a sound of acknowledgment, reached for the poker again, and casually stirred the charcoal fire, following his wishes by helping him cover his sudden moment of weakness.

“Miss Yang.”

“Yes?”

“After you leave, please don’t tell anyone you saw me in this state.”

Yang Wan felt unhappy hearing these words. “Is that what you think of me?”

“No.”

“Then what is it?”

Deng Ying couldn’t explain such a direct question.

He was already in this state, with no reputation left to protect, but the person before him was Yang Lun’s sister. Whatever her reasons for caring for him, he didn’t want her to suffer harm because of him.

But he dared not say this directly, so he fell into silence again.

Yang Wan shifted her legs to one side, turning slightly toward Deng Ying, though her eyes still watched the flickering sparks in the charcoal brazier, “You never speak truthfully. It makes me feel bad too.”

After speaking, she fell silent, no longer humming as before.

When Deng Ying hadn’t heard her voice for a very long time, he couldn’t help turning his head to look at her.

Yang Wan sat there cupping her face, motionless, her cheeks flushed red from the fire.

Deng Ying thought she was angry and felt somewhat regretful.

“Deng Ying… meant no disrespect to Miss.”

He tried to explain.

“I know.”

She responded with just two words, her emotions quite obvious, but Deng Ying still couldn’t handle it.

He opened his mouth, then stopped himself.

In the past, he had spent too much time on the palace construction projects, delaying marriage and children. Until now, he still didn’t understand the meaning behind women’s words. So while he didn’t want to see Yang Wan upset, he didn’t know how to speak with her.

He had just endured a humiliating punishment and lay there almost completely exposed, unable to move, with nothing to comfort her. After hesitating for a long time, he finally tried to express his true feelings.

“I’m sorry. Deng Ying doesn’t speak with Miss because, in his current state, he is ashamed to be in the same room with you.”

Yang Wan started.

Behind these words was an obvious desire for self-harm.

“Don’t think that way.”

She responded without hesitation.

“You do not need to feel shame before anyone. It’s the court that should feel shame before you. Executing an entire family for one person’s crime is neither benevolent nor just.”

Deng Ying gave a slight laugh.

“Father and son sharing guilt can’t be called unjust. I just can’t understand…”

He paused, and Yang Wan heard the sound of grinding teeth.

“I just can’t understand why I have to be here, enduring this punishment.”

This was more honest than anything he’d said before.

It was a self-revelation from her research subject, but Yang Wan found she could barely bear to hear it.

“Would you rather die?”

“No. If I preferred death, I would have truly starved myself from the beginning. I just feel the court is too…”

He ultimately didn’t allow himself to speak the improper words.

In Deng Ying’s gentleness and composure, Yang Wan suddenly felt a moment of genuine suffocation.

She gazed at her shadow cast on the ground, “Do you know the court treats you this way to use you?”

“I know.”

Yang Wan’s eyes suddenly reddened. She quickly tilted her head back, clearing her slightly itchy throat, “So what do you think about it?”

“The imperial palace and inner court contain my teacher’s life’s work, as well as forty-some years of spring and autumn from generations of craftsmen. I was fortunate to participate in this project, and I want to see it through to completion.”

Yang Wan laughed, “I knew the Ming History was wrong – what nonsense they wrote.”

“What did Miss say?”

“Nothing.”

Yang Wan forced herself to calm down, “I just think you should be more open-minded. No matter how good a person you are, what difference does it make? They still say what they want to say, write what they want to write.”

Deng Ying didn’t respond to Yang Wan’s words, instead asking her, “Is Miss no longer angry?”

“Huh?”

Yang Wan was startled – so he had said all those words because he thought she was angry.

“I wasn’t really angry to begin with.”

“May Deng Ying ask Miss a question?”

“Ask away. Whatever you ask, I’ll answer truthfully.”

“Why does Miss stay here?”

“I’m warming myself by the fire…”

“Miss said she would speak truthfully.”

The truth was that he was the existence that had consumed her ten years of youth, more important to her than any man.

Of course, she couldn’t say it so directly now, but after hesitating for a while, she still decided to answer honestly. The usual patterns in time-travel stories didn’t mean much, after all – she neither expected nor could have anything happen with Deng Ying.

“I don’t know how to tell you. Just consider that I live for you…”

After speaking, she tilted her head back to look at the water droplets condensed on the ceiling beams, “Do you want to sleep for a while? If not, I can chat with you.”

“I don’t want to.”

His answer brought Yang Wan genuine joy.

She cleared her throat, “Alright then, listen well. I… used to live for you. My parents often said I was of marriageable age and shouldn’t spend every day thinking about your matters, that you couldn’t possibly know who I was, and couldn’t possibly truly accompany me for life. They introduced me to a man who was good in both character and appearance, but I refused.”

As she said this, she tucked her hair behind her ear.

“On my birthday last year, I was still reading an article you wrote when you were seventeen or eighteen, ‘A Letter to Zixie at Year’s End.’ You remember it, right? The letter you wrote to Yang Lun. Oh right, how old were you exactly when you wrote that letter?”

“Wrote it in the fourth year of Zhenning, at sixteen.”

“Mm, I’ve read that article over a hundred times. In it you wrote, ‘With a literary heart I make this vow, unchanging for life, sharing it with you for mutual encouragement.’ I especially love that line. Each time I read it, I’m convinced my initial thoughts about you weren’t wrong. If they asked me to give you up, I feel my previous ten years would have no meaning at all. So what does it matter what others say? I don’t care anyway.”

Speaking to her research subject about her initial academic passion – this was probably an experience no history PhD could enjoy. Yang Wan spoke with increasing seriousness, immersed in a pure, unworldly desire to express herself.

However, what Deng Ying understood was something entirely different – it was a kind of affection he absolutely couldn’t bear at that moment. Yet simultaneously, he felt a cruel warmth in these words, like a fire-tempered blade cutting flesh, lifting skin and meat. He felt pain, but nothing else around him had the same temperature.

“So… you don’t want to marry Zhang Luo?”

“Zhang Luo?”

This name was quite familiar to Yang Wan, “Zhang Luo, the Northern Commander of the Imperial Guard? I…”

Before she could finish speaking, a blinding light suddenly pierced through the hole in the paper window that Deng Ying had torn, and Yang Wan quickly raised her arm to shield her eyes.

Li Shan’s voice came from outside, “Lord Yang, this is the only place we haven’t searched?”

Yang Lun stood in the snow, looking at the torture chamber before him, suddenly feeling a chill rise from the depths of his heart.

His once best friend was inside, and if Yang Wan weren’t in there too, his expression standing here would certainly not be what it was now.

He didn’t answer Li Shan, instead raising his head to shout inside: “Yang Wan!”

Yang Wan shot to her feet at this shout – she had only told her name to Deng Ying, how did this person outside know it?

“Yang Wan, listen well – come out on your own. If I have to come get you, I’ll break your legs!”

Now Yang Wan was completely confused. Knowing her name was one thing, but why suddenly threaten to break her legs?

She unconsciously looked toward Deng Ying, “Do… do you know who’s outside?”

Deng Ying recognized Yang Lun’s voice, and though he didn’t understand why Yang Wan couldn’t recognize it, he still answered: “Your brother, Yang Lun.”

“Wait, Yang Lun? My brother?”

Yang Wan looked up toward the window, quickly reviewing the historical relationships of this period in her mind.

Yang Lun was a cabinet minister during the Jinghe period, and in the twelfth year of Zhenning, he was still serving in the Ministry of Revenue. He had a sister of the same mother, whose name wasn’t recorded in historical materials – it was only known that Yang Lun had betrothed her to Zhang Luo, the Northern Commander of the Imperial Guard, but she had drowned before the marriage could take place.

So Yang Lun’s sister was named Yang Wan, which meant that her current body… surely not.

Yang Wan held the back of her head, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

“Yang Wan, I’ll say it one more time – come out on your own!”

Yang Lun’s voice burned with anger.

Yang Wan moved a few steps toward the door, intending to steal a glance at the man, but as soon as she pulled the door open a crack, Yang Lun yanked her out.

Yang Lun was truly furious and, not knowing she was injured, forcefully dragged her several steps. Yang Wan’s neck hurt so much that her whole body trembled. She wanted to break free but didn’t dare move rashly, and thus was practically dragged by Yang Lun until she fell in the snow.

Seeing this scene, Li Shan hurriedly dispersed the people around and personally came forward to advise, “Lord Yang, better let the young lady go inside to check if she’s injured anywhere.”

Yang Lun looked at Yang Wan sprawled in the snow, unable to get up – her hair completely disheveled, her clothes in tatters, appearing to be scratched and bruised all over.

He wanted to lift her but had to restrain himself.

“Do you know who’s inside? Huh?”

Yang Wan managed to sit up, tucking her frozen red hands into her chest, quickly glancing at Yang Lun.

This man had an upright bearing, with sharp jawlines that suggested he rarely smiled, but he was indeed graceful and handsome as recorded in historical materials.

“Speak!”

Yang Wan was startled with a shiver.

Well, he was handsome indeed, just with a terrible temper.

“I do know…”

“If you know, then why disgrace yourself!”

Although Yang Wan understood clearly that Deng Ying was taboo in the twelfth year of Zhenning, that was merely an expression in documents – people from another era could only understand the political despair, hardly feeling the fear within human nature.

But Yang Lun’s phrase “disgrace yourself” left Yang Wan stunned.

That was once Deng Ying’s best friend. Yang Wan looked at the door of the torture chamber – the wind and snow were quite strong now, battering the door she hadn’t had time to close when she left, making “bang bang bang” sounds. She wondered if the person inside had heard those words “disgrace yourself.”

Yang Lun was angered that she dared to be lost in thought at this moment and shouted furiously: “Do you know how many people from Tongjia Academy were arrested because of him? Even Father’s teacher Zhou Congshan, over eighty years old, is being tortured in the imperial prison. When Zhang Luo returns from the south, even if these people don’t lose their heads, their official careers are completely ruined. Do you know why? Because some of them wrote a fu-poem pleading for Deng Ying! Look at yourself – sacrificing your reputation as a Yang family daughter, disregarding our entire family’s lives. I didn’t believe you would do such a thing before. Now I truly regret coming to find you – should have let you die in…”

Yang Lun’s fury made him speak cruel words, and when he realized it, the most vicious words had already left his mouth. His mind buzzed, filled with irretrievable regret but not knowing how to take it back.