Wang Daxia was shocked by Chen Jingji’s choice. Previously, he had always thought Chen Jingji was a stingy, greedy market broker who used flattery and false words, and that his repeated favors to Li Jiubao and Wei Caiwei were to curry favor for future business dealings. But hearing Chen Jingji willing to sever emotional ties for Li Jiubao’s sake, he secretly cursed himself for being blind before, mistaking a good person for a bad one.
Wang Daxia told Wei Caiwei about Chen Jingji’s plea. “…I agreed to help him find connections to enter the palace, and I’ll try to get him into the Inner Academy of the Directorate of Ceremonial to study. Even if he becomes a eunuch, only through education can he achieve success.”
Wei Caiwei thought to herself that in her previous life, she had never heard of this Chen Jingji. However, when Li Jiubao was enfeoffed as Noble Consort Li, she had asked Wang Daxia to secretly investigate the whereabouts of a man surnamed Liu. This person had previously been the owner of a gambling house in the capital, but later fled after being involved in a murder case, disappearing to who knows where.
Wang Daxia at that time was in the Eastern Depot with many informants. He finally got news from the gambling house owner’s hometown—returning to one’s roots is a deep belief of our people. Though he had changed his name, he went to his hometown to buy a burial plot.
Wang Daxia followed the trail and found him in Hangzhou.
Noble Consort Li wanted Wang Daxia to castrate this man and let him suffer in agony for a whole night before allowing him to die.
Noble Consort Li gave the order, and Wang Daxia naturally complied. Not knowing why Noble Consort Li so hated a gambling house owner and wanted to torture him with such cruel punishment, he told Wei Caiwei about it.
Wei Caiwei had said, “The affairs of nobles—the less you know, the better. The more you know, the faster you die. Don’t dig to the root of things. Those who open gambling houses are all conscienceless, greedy scoundrels who cause countless families to be destroyed, with tears and bloodshed. The gambling house owner deserved to die. Moreover, I heard that Noble Consort Li’s father, Li Wei, was fond of gambling. Perhaps the Li family had conflicts with the gambling house then, and Noble Consort Li was seeking revenge…”
Wei Caiwei recalled events from her previous life. At that time, she had always thought the gambling house owner had a grudge with Noble Consort Li’s gambling-addicted father Li Wei. Now thinking about it, it wasn’t because of Li Wei, but because of Chen Jingji.
Noble Consort Li’s insistence that Wang Daxia castrate this man and make him suffer for a whole night—this strange revenge made sense: in the previous life, Chen Jingji had been fatally injured protecting her when trampled in his vital parts by the horseshoe iron.
Because in the previous life, Wei Caiwei had no recommendation from Lu Bing, she had no opportunity to take the palace female physician examination at the Directorate of Ceremonial, wouldn’t happen to pass Shichahai on her way home, wouldn’t have the right medicine to treat injuries, and didn’t have Wang Daxia sending ice blocks every hour without charge to cool down the severely injured Chen Jingji to prevent wound festering.
So in the previous life, Chen Jingji died at Shichahai, lacking medical care and medicine, with no one to save him.
That’s why Noble Consort Li would have Wang Daxia castrate the gambling house owner and insist he suffer for a night before dying. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. Because all this pain was what her childhood sweetheart Chen Jingji had experienced.
So my rebirth not only changed my own fate and Wang Daxia’s destiny, and in the future I must also change Lu Ying’s fate of early widowhood and becoming a Buddhist nun, but I also inadvertently changed Chen Jingji’s fate.
He was originally supposed to die from blood loss and wound infection, but Wang Daxia and I saved him—yet now he wants to enter the palace as a eunuch, to walk the path Wang Daxia walked in the previous life.
In the previous life, Chen Jingji and Li Jiubao were separated by death. In this life, by living separation.
Living separation and death parting—these two must experience the greatest suffering in the world across both lifetimes.
In this life, the Northern City Military Commissioner had already sent the seven thugs to the Shuntian Prefecture jail. The gambling house owner, hearing that Wang Yanei was involved in this matter, had originally wanted a soft, beautiful concubine but unexpectedly kicked an iron plate—who knew these poor folks from Machang Alley had connections to Wang Yanei, one of the Four Scourges of the Northern City!
Wang Daxia’s notorious reputation preceded him, and the owner didn’t dare provoke him. The next day he closed the gambling house, took his money, and fled without a trace.
Shuntian Prefecture Prefect Wang Niqiu couldn’t find the main culprit and was busy closing the case, so he had the seven thugs beaten with fifty strokes and sentenced to exile.
Wang Daxia lamented Chen Jingji’s choice to enter the palace as a eunuch for love, staying away from his beloved, and hated the gambling house owner to the bone. “Shuntian Prefecture’s Wang Niqiu is too lazy to continue the investigation, but I’ve already used Embroidered Uniform Guard connections to search this guy’s hometown. I swear I’ll catch the perpetrator. Chen Jingji can’t just be ruined like this, and his grandmother can’t have died in vain. Hmph, the monk may run away, but the temple cannot.”
The gambling house owner running into Wang Daxia’s hands in two consecutive lifetimes was also fate—this lifetime he would certainly be caught earlier. Wei Caiwei had complete faith in Wang Daxia’s ability to find people. “You’ll definitely find the perpetrator. However, though Chen Jingji has become a eunuch, he’s not necessarily a waste—he still has a future.”
Eunuch Wang, in your previous life you most hated people calling eunuchs wastes.
Wang Daxia scratched his head. “I understand. I won’t say that anymore. Though Chen Jingji has lost that… he’s a true man. To make Li Jiubao give up on him, he’d rather enter the palace as a eunuch. Li Jiubao is also good—knowing he can’t… she still threatened her father with death to agree to the marriage. The two clearly love each other so much, yet they can never be together. Sigh, this damned world!”
Watching Wang Daxia sighing deeply over Chen Jingji and Li Jiubao’s aborted love, Wei Caiwei thought: Chen Jingji enters the palace for Li Jiubao, I gave up entering the palace for you. When you love someone, you naturally consider their perspective.
Looking at the still naive Wang Daxia, Wei Caiwei felt moved and said, “What is love in this world? It makes people pledge life and death to each other. Most people fly apart when disaster strikes, few mutually protect each other. But fate plays tricks—lovers cannot become spouses and must be separated by heaven and earth.”
In the previous life, seeing Wang Daxia lying in the coffin, parting with him in death, her heart and liver were torn apart, overwhelming grief crushing her until she could barely breathe.
The moment the coffin lid closed, her vision went black and she collapsed on the coffin lid. When she awoke, she found herself reborn at seventeen.
Now thinking about it, that blackout in the previous life was actually death.
Without Wang Daxia’s companionship for the rest of her life, she was unwilling to live alone.
This was love that pledged life and death…
Even with Wang Daxia’s thick nerves, he could sense Wei Caiwei’s sadness. He waved his hand before her eyes. “What unhappy thing are you thinking about?”
Not unhappy, just the unfinished emotions from the previous life. I was reborn for love and found the carefree young you.
For a moment, Wei Caiwei impulsively wanted to tell him everything, but Wang Daxia was so afraid of ghosts—he’d probably go crazy if he heard this.
Bearing the emotions from the previous life alone was sometimes very happy, like secretly eating candy hidden under the covers as a child. When tired or disappointed, taking it out to savor alone filled her with strength.
But sometimes Wei Caiwei would be sad, would have an unbearable feeling, like right now.
She so wanted to hold him like in the previous life, lean on his shoulder, find the most comfortable position to curl up in his arms.
He was a rootless eunuch, not like ordinary men who could easily relieve desire.
She kissed him, caressed him, whispered sweet words in his ear, even explored from medical knowledge of acupuncture points and organ structure, as well as male-male illustrated booklets sold in market bookshops, discovering another way for men to relieve desire—even without roots, she could help him soar to heaven and release passion.
Wang Daxia was good to her—externally his body could block poisoned arrows for her, internally his deft hands could give her bedroom pleasure. He could be said to grace the main hall and work in the kitchen.
And wasn’t she the same? Though Wang Daxia started by living off a woman with initially female-strong, male-weak dynamics, later their love became equal. She gave just as much, dying for love and being reborn for love.
Actually, the depth of our feelings was no less than Chen Jingji and Li Jiubao’s.
Seeing she still didn’t respond, Wang Daxia was frightened and boldly touched her forehead with the back of his hand. “Are you sick? Strange, no fever.”
Only then did Wei Caiwei come back to her senses. “Hurry up and grow up.” How can a fourteen-year-old you bear a lifetime of love?
Wang Daxia didn’t understand. He puffed out his chest, trying hard to look adult. “I’m not small! Don’t think I’m small—I’m already fourteen, and I’ll be fifteen after New Year!”
Wang Daxia thought for a moment. “I just remembered, I still don’t know how old you are?”
If I added up my age from the previous life, saying it would probably startle you!
Nourished by love, Wei Caiwei’s heart had never aged, so she said without guilt, “I’m seventeen. When autumn comes, I’ll be eighteen.”
“This—” Wang Daxia said against his conscience, “That age isn’t old.”
Wei Caiwei said, “It’s not old, just three years older than you, that’s all.”
Wang Daxia felt being young was embarrassing and didn’t want to continue discussing age. He changed the topic. “I’ll go find Lord Lu to help open connections. He recommended you as a palace female physician—sending Chen Jingji to the palace as a eunuch should be equally easy. Best if he can study at the Inner Academy of the Directorate of Ceremonial.”
Wang Daxia acted on his words. He didn’t hesitate when doing important things. First he went to find his father Wang Qianhu. “Father, I’ve been in the Embroidered Uniform Guard for two months. Thanks to Lord Lu’s guidance and care, I’ve made rapid progress. I want to properly thank Lord Lu.”
Wang Qianhu thought this made sense. “Rotten wood becoming pillars—you should indeed thank him properly.”
Wang Daxia choked. He didn’t know why his father was always like this—even with good news, he found opportunities to put down his son. Never a positive evaluation, encouragement was a luxury. As if he weren’t a son but an enemy.
But Wang Daxia needed his father’s help now and didn’t dare say more. “What use is just talking? We need something practical. Sending money is too vulgar, and Lord Lu wouldn’t value it. Does the family have any old antiques, famous calligraphy or paintings? I’ll take them to curry favor.”
Wang Qianhu was willing to spend money on his son’s future. He gave Wang Daxia a painting from his private collection. “This isn’t an antique—a painting by Tang Bohu from the Chenghua reign. Tang Bohu only died in the second year of Jiajing, just thirty-seven years ago. But I heard Lord Lu greatly admires Tang Bohu and has several of his paintings at home. He’ll definitely like it.”
Wang Daxia opened it to see an ink wash painting “Autumn Wind Fan Picture”—a beautiful woman holding a silk fan, deep in thought beside a cluster of bamboo in an autumn courtyard with rustling wind, with an inscribed poem beside:
“When autumn comes, silk fans should be stored away, / Why does this beauty feel renewed sorrow? / Please look carefully at worldly sentiment— / Who among all doesn’t chase after wealth and power?”
Wang Daxia asked, “Father, this isn’t a fake, is it? Don’t harm me.”
“Impossible,” Wang Qianhu said. “This was passed down from your great-grandfather’s generation. Your great-grandfather personally bought this painting from Tang Bohu’s own hands. How could it be fake? With your eye, can you even distinguish real from fake?”
Having family heritage was different. Wang Daxia put away the painting. “I just felt this poem was too simple—even I can understand it at a glance. It doesn’t seem profound at all. But since great-grandfather personally commissioned the painting, it must be real.”
“You—” Wang Qianhu was nearly driven to death by his son. “Don’t talk nonsense when you’ve read few books. Simple, easy-to-understand poetry is the most rare. How embarrassing.”
Author’s Note:
The method Caiwei self-taught, you all understand…