Released from prison and now well-fed and clothed, Mei Lin couldn’t fathom her remaining value. She ultimately attributed her improved circumstances to the bald doctor. Perhaps he had spoken kindly on her behalf, or maybe he still intended for her to nurture his jade.
During the first two days, she tentatively tried to leave the city but was politely escorted back. Afterward, she remained indoors, not even visiting the bald doctor.
Jingbei was known for its heavy snowfall and abundant plum blossoms. A few branches graced the window outside her room, but she disliked them, keeping the windows tightly shut, allowing no air to enter.
If she had any lingering doubts during her capture, they vanished the moment the antidote reached her hands. To him, she was merely an expendable agent from a covert operation. In his eyes, she shouldn’t possess her own will or emotions, making her easy to use or discard. Yet she had feelings and desires, even contemplating leaving the organization, which led to her current predicament.
She couldn’t understand why he hadn’t simply killed her. Wouldn’t that have been easier? Unable to comprehend his motives, she decided to stop her wishful thinking. Her voice had completely disappeared, leaving her unable to speak. She chose not to communicate with anyone, instead requesting a Go board and game records. She spent her days by the charcoal stove, roasting sweet potatoes and studying the game.
Though she knew little about Go, she had heard it contained “the art of deception and strategy” within its three-foot board. With nothing else to do, she decided to learn, hoping it might make her smarter. As for the bald doctor’s warning about her limited time left, once the antidote suppressed the pain of the poison, she pushed it to the back of her mind.
Perhaps it was only after experiencing a period of excruciating pain and hopelessness that one could truly appreciate the beauty of living without suffering. She now adopted a mindset of taking each day as it came, knowing that forcing the impossible would only bring misery. Moreover, she couldn’t help but feel a glimmer of hope regarding the bald doctor.
At that time, she was unaware that her every move was being reported to Murong Jinghe. Later, during their romantic moments, he would inevitably complain that she hadn’t given him a thought or even spared him a glance. She knew he was merely finding an excuse to act coy, not truly wanting her to recall those less-than-pleasant memories, so she refrained from settling old scores with him.
To say she hadn’t thought of him at all would be a lie. Occasionally, while pondering Go strategies, her mind would wander to their time together—their conflicts, their mutual dependence, even their most beautiful moments—piercing her heart like sharp needles, leaving her breathless. However, she wouldn’t allow herself to dwell in such a state, quickly regaining focus, peeling the roasted sweet potato, and savoring its sweetness.
Having never known family or friends since childhood, no one had taught her how to be kind to herself. So she simply followed her heart’s desires without questioning whether she should or shouldn’t. Like now, she was merely acting on her wishes. She wanted to live, to live well. As for her feelings, she believed they were her own business, unrelated to anyone else. Therefore, she ultimately felt the problem lay within herself. If one day she no longer cared for him, naturally, she wouldn’t be heartbroken anymore. So, there was no real hatred to speak of. Thus, when she saw him appear at her residence that day, she smiled.
She had imagined that if she had seen him when she first arrived in Jingbei, she would have lowered her head and ignored him, not even sparing him a glance. That was when her heartache had been at its worst. But after all this time, that pain had sunk deep into her heart. It wasn’t gone, but it no longer controlled her. So when she saw him, she displayed remarkable composure. Even upon hearing his order, she felt no anger.
That day, snow fell from the sky. Murong Jinghe wore a glossy black sable fur coat and a matching fur hat, seated in a palanquin lined with thick, soft bearskin cushions. He was carried along the main path through the courtyard. An attendant held a sky-blue oil-paper umbrella decorated with green bamboo over him. As they walked, two sets of footprints were left in the freshly swept path, quickly covered by a thin layer of snow.
Mei Lin peered out through the half-open door, capturing this scene in her eyes. In that instant, her first thought was how handsome he looked, which made her smile involuntarily. Thinking back on it later, she felt embarrassed.
Seeing the smile she hadn’t managed to conceal, Murong Jinghe was first stunned, then his expression changed. An inexplicable gloom arose in his heart, similar to how he felt each time his subordinates reported her every action. Sometimes he even thought that perhaps her losing her temper or cursing him would be better than this apparent indifference. Perhaps driven by this sentiment, he blurted out those words almost without thinking, even anticipating her cold and sarcastic refusal as she had done in Zhongshan.
“Starting tomorrow, you’ll nurture the jade for the Divine Doctor.”
Mei Lin was momentarily stunned, wondering how he knew about nurturing jade. Inwardly, she thought that after not seeing him for so long, he indeed looked more handsome than he had in Lao Wozi Village. The saying “clothes make the man” does hold some truth.
Murong Jinghe had no idea she was thinking about something completely unrelated. He assumed her mind was in turmoil due to his words. His expression had just started to improve when he saw Mei Lin, having regained her composure, nodding. She had already agreed to it before, and now that she had been brought to this freezing place and suffered imprisonment unjustly, she felt obligated to comply. Moreover, she did want to see the bald doctor to seek treatment.
Seeing no resentment or hatred on her face, just the same ordinary expression as before, a sudden surge of frustration rose from Murong Jinghe’s chest, lodging in his throat, unable to rise or fall.
“Set up a chair for me by the charcoal brazier,” he said. He had originally intended to leave after achieving his goal, but now he didn’t want to go.
The guard who had escorted him brought a chair as instructed, laid thick cushions on it, and helped him sit down before being dismissed, leaving the two of them facing each other across the charcoal brazier.
Mei Lin knew this man’s peculiar temperament well and wasn’t particularly surprised by his actions. After a moment of silent staring, she lowered her head and reached for the sweet potatoes roasting by the charcoal fire.
Murong Jinghe watched her intently, suddenly realizing that she had lost a significant amount of weight since he last saw her. The padded jacket hung loosely on her frame, looking far from warm. No wonder she spent her days sitting by the fire. Thinking of this, he became displeased, though he wasn’t sure if he was annoyed at Qing Yan for not taking proper care of her or at himself for reasons he couldn’t quite grasp.
Mei Lin picked up a sweet potato and peeled it. Although the aroma was enticing, she suddenly lost her appetite. She placed it on a nearby plate and stood up, walking towards the washstand. As she slowly washed her hands in the basin, she silently mused that this man seemed to exist solely to make others uncomfortable. However, this was his domain, and he could be wherever he pleased. She couldn’t be bothered to say anything, and even if she wanted to, she couldn’t speak anyway.
“Bring it here. I want to eat,” Murong Jinghe suddenly spoke, his eyes fixed on her slender back.
Mei Lin wiped her hands with a cloth, not immediately responding. She contemplated whether to splash him with the water from the basin, dump the plate of roasted sweet potatoes on his head or… obediently feed him. In the end, she simply returned to the charcoal brazier and resumed the game of Go she had been playing earlier, completely ignoring the sudden addition to the room.
Murong Jinghe was accustomed to being ignored by Mu Ye Luo Mei, but that didn’t mean he could tolerate such treatment from Mei Lin. However, he considered it beneath him to shout at someone who was ignoring him.
Therefore, when Mei Lin truly forgot about his presence and became fully immersed in the Go game, she suddenly felt a weight on her shoulder. Before she could react, she found herself on the floor, pinned down by the heavy object on top of her.
“Who gave you permission to be so insolent in front of this prince?” Murong Jinghe asked through gritted teeth, his breath hot against her ear. Sweat beaded on his forehead, but he didn’t allow Mei Lin to rise, keeping his arm pressed against her neck.
He was still wearing his sable fur coat, which he hadn’t removed upon entering. Once Mei Lin regained her senses, she found it quite warm. Since she couldn’t get up for the moment, she decided to stay as she was. However, she quickly realized that he could move on his own, which made her furrow her brows. She thought to herself that this man was truly unfathomable, and she was far from his level.
After receiving no response for a while, Murong Jinghe looked down to find her lying on the carpet, staring blankly at some unknown point, lost in thought. Feeling both annoyed and helpless, unable to vent his frustrations, he lowered his head and bit her ear hard.
Mei Lin shuddered in pain, her scattered thoughts instantly returning. Without thinking, she pushed the man off her back and sat up. She touched her throbbing ear and looked at her fingers, finding them stained with bright red blood.
This man was too cruel! She narrowed her eyes at the man lying on his back, looking smugly at her. Anger surged through her, and disregarding the potential consequences, she straddled him in one swift motion. She scratched, hit, bit, and pummeled him like a common shrew, forgetting all her martial arts training.
“Insolent slave… How dare you strike this prince? Do you not want to live?” Murong Jinghe had already exhausted all his strength just to reach her side and was in no condition to dodge her attacks. In an instant, his face received two punches.
Mei Lin ignored his words, showing no mercy in her assault.
“Damned servant… The wretched woman…”
“Shrew… Release this prince at once… This prince will exterminate your entire clan…”
Murong Jinghe hurled insults incoherently, his face quickly becoming bruised and swollen. Yet, he only cursed and did not call for anyone to intervene.
As Mei Lin’s strikes slowed and weakened, it seemed the anger and sorrow that had been building up since learning he had intentionally made her mute was finally released. As she calmed down, she realized he had deliberately allowed her outburst, otherwise she would have been dragged away long ago. Her gaze fell on his colorful and pitiful face, and her lips twitched involuntarily. Had she gone too far?
“Had enough? If you’re done, get off me!” Murong Jinghe snapped, annoyed by her staring, almost-smiling expression.
Mei Lin raised her hand. Just as he reflexively closed his eyes, expecting another blow, she gently wiped the blood from under his nose. Then, under the gaze of his suddenly widened black eyes, she helped him up from the ground and into the chair.
His fur hat had fallen off when he hit the ground. Now sitting up, his black hair cascaded down, resting on his shoulders. His usually handsome, noble face was now covered in bruises and blood streaks, a pitiful sight.
After the momentary satisfaction, Mei Lin felt a tightness in her chest. Silently, she walked to the washstand, emptied the basin, and poured in some clean hot water from the nearby kettle. She wrung out a cloth and began wiping the blood from his face.
“They say you shouldn’t hit someone’s face, but you went straight for it!” Murong Jinghe complained as she gently tilted his chin up, allowing her to clean away the evidence of violence.
Mei Lin’s heart fluttered, thinking how this man always knew how to soften her heart. Fortunately, she couldn’t speak now, so she didn’t have to respond.
Seemingly dissatisfied with her silence, Murong Jinghe grumbled a bit more before shakily raising his hand to grab her wrist.
“Are you still angry with me?” he asked. As soon as the words left his mouth, he felt discomfort and continued speaking rashly, “This prince has been lenient with you, remembering how you once saved me. Have you forgotten where you came from? Or have you set your heart on betraying…” He trailed off, not specifying whether he meant betraying the organization or him. After a pause, seeing her unmoved, he added bitterly, “Do you realize that if this prince truly wanted to end your life, you wouldn’t be alive now?”
From the beginning, he had only seen her as an expendable agent from a covert operation, feeling entitled to use her as he pleased. Thus, he felt no guilt even for deliberately making her mute. Now, merely unaccustomed to her attention being elsewhere, he allowed her to vent like one might indulge a pet. In his mind, this was an enormous favor, and even if she wasn’t overwhelmingly grateful, she should at least show some emotion.
Mei Lin’s heart, which had just begun to soften, felt as if doused with cold water at his words, chilling her to the bone. An indescribable sadness washed over her. She tightened her grip on the damp cloth, then firmly pulled her hand from his grasp.
Just as Murong Jinghe was about to explode at her ungrateful behavior, he saw her drop to her knees before him, bowing low to the ground. Just as she had done when he first summoned her, her gaze fixed on a spot a foot in front of his feet, her expression wooden.
Murong Jinghe’s heart clenched, then anger surged. His hand, not yet withdrawn, swung out, slapping her face hard. Though not as strong as when he was in full health, it was still forceful enough to snap Mei Lin’s head to the side, leaving a red handprint on her pale cheek. But she showed no extra reaction, simply kneeling properly again, as an obedient agent should, infuriating Murong Jinghe to the point of shaking.
“Someone come, we’re returning to the compound!” he shouted harshly. He didn’t spare another glance at Mei Lin, still kneeling on the ground, as he left.
Mei Lin remained kneeling for a long time. Only when the daylight began to fade and footsteps approached from outside did she come to her senses? With a self-mocking smile, she grasped the chair he had sat in and slowly stood up. The chair had long since gone cold, and the charcoal brazier, with no one to add fuel, held only a faintly flickering flame. The room was as cold as an ice cave.
She rubbed her cold hands and was about to sneeze when the maid who had been serving and guarding her these past few days entered with dinner. Seeing the dying fire, she hurriedly set the food tray on the table, added a few pieces of charcoal to the brazier, and stoked the fire.
“Miss, your voice may be gone, but your hands work fine. Can’t you even add a piece of charcoal? If you fall ill from the cold, this humble servant will suffer along with you,” the maid grumbled. She wasn’t a true palace servant, but a member of the Ming Guard specifically responsible for Murong Jinghe’s safety, outranking both the expendable agents and shadow guards. She had been assigned by Qing Yan to serve Mei Lin and had always been displeased about it. Though she didn’t dare skimp on food or clothing, she never missed a chance for cold words. However, the person reporting Mei Lin’s daily activities was from the same department and had some friendship with the maid, so naturally, these complaints weren’t relayed to Murong Jinghe.
Mei Lin ignored her and went straight to eat her meal.
The maid made a few more snide remarks. Seeing Mei Lin unmoved, she grew angrier. Noticing the handprint on Mei Lin’s delicate face, she smirked.
“Oh my, miss, what’s that on your face? Were you so bored you hit yourself for fun? Or perhaps…” Her eyes gleamed as she thought of a possibility, unable to contain her glee. “Perhaps the master was showing his affection…”
Mei Lin’s hand tightened on her bowl, and in the next moment, she hurled it.
The maid knew martial arts, and Mei Lin hadn’t expected to hit her; she just wanted to silence her. Unexpectedly, while the maid hastily dodged the bowl and its contents, she couldn’t avoid a sudden slap that came out of nowhere.
As the bowl shattered against the wall, the crisp sound of a hand striking a face rang out. Then, a suffocating silence fell.
Mei Lin looked at Qing Yan’s displeased expression and slowly lowered her now-empty left hand. She tried to offer a grateful smile, but as her lips curved upward, her eyes unexpectedly filled with tears. Startled, she hurriedly turned away, struggling to swallow the sudden lump in her throat.
Qing Yan ignored her, coldly glaring at the trembling woman kneeling on the ground. “Daitang will take over your duties. Go to the Punishment Office to receive your punishment,” he said. He deliberately drew out the last word with the light, rising tone unique to eunuchs, conveying an inviolable authority.
Mei Lin, coming from a covert operation unrelated to the Ming and Shadow Guards, naturally didn’t know what their Punishment Office entailed. But seeing the maid’s instantly pale face, she knew it couldn’t be a pleasant place. Yet, even so, there was no plea for mercy, showing how deeply Qing Yan’s authority was ingrained in these people’s hearts.
After the maid left, Qing Yan turned to Mei Lin. By now, she had regained her composure, even managing a sincere smile.
“I’ll have someone bring you another meal,” he said flatly, then turned to leave.
Mei Lin looked puzzled, not understanding why he had come. Fortunately, as he reached the door, he paused and said evenly, “Miss is a smart person. You should know what’s best for yourself. Why bother antagonizing the master?” With that, he left as swiftly as he had come. It seemed he had come solely to say those words.
Mei Lin couldn’t respond, even if she had wanted to, and his quick departure spared her the awkwardness.
It appeared Murong Jinghe was still in a foul mood, which had alerted Qing Yan. A quick inquiry with the guards outside would have revealed everything. Although she knew he meant well, Mei Lin still felt embarrassed. She was usually someone who responded better to kindness than force, and neither Murong Jinghe’s slap nor the maid’s mockery had moved her. Yet Qing Yan’s subtle act of protection had brought her to tears. It wasn’t a glorious thing to be slapped for some inexplicable stubborn streak.
She suddenly thought of A’Dai, realizing she had somehow adopted that unyielding attitude, and shuddered. Hurriedly standing up, she walked to the brazier and added a piece of charcoal, stoking the fire.
After washing her face and hands and applying some rouge to cover the handprint, she tidied herself up and headed towards Murong Jinghe’s courtyard.
The new maid, Daitang, followed behind her. Learning from her predecessor’s mistake, she was cautious and spoke little.
Mei Lin was satisfied with this. She didn’t care what others said, but she disliked having someone constantly chattering in her ear, finding it annoying.
Perhaps due to Qing Yan’s instructions, no one stopped her wherever she went, so she easily entered the central courtyard where Murong Jinghe resided. The guards outside gave her odd looks when they saw her, seeming both relieved and more nervous.
Murong Jinghe was reclining on a couch, being fed by a maid. Seeing Mei Lin, he scowled but dismissed everyone else, clearly aware that their interactions were not suitable for others to witness.
Mei Lin noticed the maid’s obvious relief as she turned away, puzzled until she stepped on something slippery near the couch. She realized the prince must have thrown another tantrum during his meal.
“Why are you here?” Murong Jinghe asked coldly, clearly displeased to see her.
Prepared for this reaction, Mei Lin smiled softly and gave a casual curtsy – not too informal, yet not distant. She then picked up the bowl and took over feeding him.
Murong Jinghe eyed her suspiciously, confused by her sudden docility. “Others can serve me. Your help isn’t needed,” he said flatly, leaning back and refusing the food.
Mei Lin faltered, her smile wavering as she recalled her earlier jealousy at seeing another woman feed him. She realized she had overestimated her resilience to his rejection.
Seeing her hesitation, Murong Jinghe grew truly annoyed. “If you have no business here, leave! This isn’t a place for you.”
This provocation steeled Mei Lin’s resolve. Deciding she had nothing left to lose, she set down the bowl and, to Murong Jinghe’s surprise, climbed onto the couch beside him.
“How dare-” he began but was cut off as Mei Lin shoved an entire fried quail into his mouth.
Caught off guard, his face and nose were smeared with oil. Unable to speak, he could only glare at her indignantly.
Mei Lin smiled, gently wiping his face with a handkerchief as she waited for his outburst.
Unexpectedly, Murong Jinghe’s gaze softened. He recalled a similar incident in Zhongshan, where she had also force-fed him, causing him great embarrassment. Back then, he had wanted to kill her, but now the memory filled him with warmth.
Noticing his changed demeanor, Mei Lin looked away uncomfortably and moved off the couch.
She wiped her hands, adjusted his position for comfort, and sat on the edge of the couch. She removed the quail from his mouth and began feeding him small pieces.
The scene reminded him of their time in the mud hut – her feeding him as the sunset filtered through the window, bathing her in golden light. Remembering their last embrace and the first time he heard her sing, Murong Jinghe felt a heaviness in his chest.
With a trembling hand, he touched her face in the candlelight. She stiffened but didn’t pull away.
“Why don’t you speak? Can you make any sound at all?” he asked softly, broaching the forbidden topic they had both been carefully avoiding.
Mei Lin pressed her lips together, her hands shaking as she set down the chopsticks, her smile fading.
“I want to hear you speak,” Murong Jinghe persisted, ignoring her visible struggle.
A sudden, intense pain surged through Mei Lin’s chest, leaving her breathless and dizzy. She closed her eyes, trying to regain composure, and slowly turned to leave. Murong Jinghe grabbed her from behind, pulling her close.
“I will cure you,” he declared firmly. “Whatever it takes.”
His words brought Mei Lin no joy, only increased sorrow. She was almost certain that he felt no guilt or regret for rendering her mute, viewing it as an insignificant act. Yet, knowing this, she found she could neither hate nor blame him.
Mei Lin finally realized that her greatest misfortune in life wasn’t being abandoned, forced into a covert operation, or even losing her voice – it was falling in love with him.
That night, Murong Jinghe didn’t let Mei Lin return to her quarters. After more than a month, they shared a bed again.
Unlike before, he could now move, and he wrapped himself around her, claiming it was for warmth. He removed her makeup, kissing the fading handprint on her cheek while muttering that she deserved it. He touched the mole at her brow, declaring it his and forbidding anyone else from touching it. He said she was his, entirely his…
Mei Lin indulged his behavior, thinking he had gone mad. When his hand slipped into her shirt, commenting that her chest had shrunk, she nearly hit him again.
Finally, he quieted down, holding her close as his breathing steadied.
Her heart raced at his seemingly tender actions. She lay awake, staring at the vague outlines of furniture in the darkness. She realized then that her feelings for him weren’t entirely baseless, and that he would inevitably break her heart.
The next morning, Mei Lin, with dark circles under her eyes and a fading handprint on her cheek, was led by a spirited Murong Jinghe in his palanquin towards the bald doctor’s courtyard.
Qing Yan walked on the other side of the palanquin, his handsome face solemn, seemingly oblivious to the intimate atmosphere between the couple.
As they approached, the bald doctor emerged, wrapped in a thick fur robe. Seeing the group, he exclaimed, “Your Highness, you’re truly skilled! You’ve made this foolish girl willingly come to nurture the jade!”
Murong Jinghe’s face darkened at these words. He glanced at Mei Lin, surprised to see no anger or change in her expression. Feeling uneasy, he tightened his grip on her hand, as if afraid she might run away.
In truth, Mei Lin wasn’t as indifferent as she appeared. Her emotions had stirred slightly, but she had long ago decided to do this. Murong Jinghe’s intentions didn’t matter to her. She knew he might never reciprocate her feelings equally, but she loved him nonetheless. Her feelings and actions were her own, regardless of others’ opinions.
“Doctor, don’t jest. Didn’t Miss Mei Lin agree to your request when she initially sought your help for His Highness?” Qing Yan intervened, noticing Murong Jinghe’s darkening mood and fearing his temper might lead to rash actions.
The bald doctor chuckled dryly, ceasing his provocations. He assumed Mei Lin had told them everything, unaware that Qing Yan was making assumptions. While Qing Yan knew Mei Lin had sought medical help for the prince, he didn’t know the specifics. He reasoned that such an unusual illness would require extraordinary conditions, and his vague words were enough to gloss over the situation.
“As long as someone nurtures the jade for me, it’s fine,” the doctor muttered, tapping his pipe against a pillar. As Murong Jinghe’s palanquin approached the steps, he blocked their way with his pipe. “Stop. Only the foolish girl is needed for jade nurturing. Everyone else, go about your business.”
“This prince wishes to observe,” Murong Jinghe said slowly, his tone carrying the authority of his noble status.
The doctor shook his head vigorously. “The spirit of the jade fears human qi. Having irrelevant people present will taint the nurturing process and greatly affect its efficacy. Don’t say I didn’t warn you all.”
Murong Jinghe’s lips tightened as he stared intensely at the doctor, trying to gauge the truth in his words. Finally, unwilling to take the risk, he slowly released Mei Lin’s hand.
(End of Chun Hua Yan – Chapter)