“His Majesty has not become suspicious of you?” Ling Jingshu looked at Wei Yan steadily, her beautiful eyes filled with concern.

A warmth moved through Wei Yan’s chest: “No. I was very discreet about all of it. The only ones who know are Chief Eunuch Huang, Elder Sister — and you.”

As he spoke, he drew closer still.

The two of them were nearly touching. The warmth and presence that were distinctly his enveloped her in an instant.

He inclined his head to look down at her, and in his eyes burned an ardor and an anticipation he could no longer conceal — brilliant as stars scattered across the night sky, enough to set a heart adrift.

Ling Jingshu lifted her face to look at him, and without meaning to, felt her whole body go rigid. The color drained quietly from her face.

The humiliations she had endured in her previous life rose one by one before her mind’s eye. That was the deepest scar buried in her heart — a hidden ache she had never once spoken of to anyone.

For two people who cared for one another to be alone together, a little closeness was only natural. He had always made a conscious effort to hold himself back, keeping his distance, never daring to truly approach or draw near — and she had carried the memory of that gentleness and consideration within her all this time.

She despised herself for the reactions she could not control.

She was terrified of seeing disappointment and contempt in his eyes.

She wanted to open her heart and begin her life anew.

Ling Jingshu’s lips moved slightly, and her voice came out so faint it was nearly inaudible: “Wei Yan…”

Wei Yan, I am a little afraid.

I am afraid my own reactions will hurt you.

Wei Yan’s gaze rested steadily on her face, taking in every flicker of vulnerability and fear within her. A deep tenderness surfaced in his heart, and with it, an ache of compassion that could not be suppressed: “A’Shu, do not be afraid. I only want to try. No matter whether you can accept it or not, I will not be disappointed — and I will not give up.”

“Let me try. Will you allow it?”

Ling Jingshu felt her throat go dry and rough, and after a long moment, managed to press out a single word: “Yes.”

He made no sudden move, but continued to look at her with the same tender, deep gaze. After holding each other’s eyes for a stretch of time, the tension within her inexplicably began to ease.

The man before her loved her with all his heart. He had silently guarded her all this while, and had never once pressed her to do anything she did not wish to do. She, too, had come to care for him deeply, and wished to walk forward together with him, hand in hand, for the rest of her life.

He was not the despicable Lu An of her previous life. He would never hurt her.

What reason did she have to fear his closeness!

The rigidity slowly left her body. Her racing, erratic heartbeat began to settle by degrees.

Ling Jingshu breathed in deeply and, trembling, extended her hand. She let it brush lightly against his, while repeating steadily to herself, over and over within her heart: This is Wei Yan. This is the man I care for.

In the instant their hands touched, Ling Jingshu felt as though all the blood in her body had rushed to her head, and for a single breathless moment, her mind went almost completely blank.

Wei Yan did not move at all. He simply looked at her with those calm, gentle eyes, and by some quiet miracle, every last trace of her tension and anxiety was soothed away.

When her awareness returned to her, she found herself still standing there, steady and whole.

Her hand was resting in his, and there was no disgust, no nausea, no retching — nothing.

“Wei Yan,” Ling Jingshu lifted the corners of her lips into a smile. Tears slid silently from the corners of her eyes. She laughed even as she cried: “Wei Yan! Do you see? The affliction within me has healed! I can touch your hand! I will not be sick anymore…”

The elation that surged through Wei Yan in that moment was no less than what flooded through Ling Jingshu.

She had finally overcome the shadow that had held her captive, and had reached out to touch and draw close to him on her own.

This also meant that she had truly opened her heart, and accepted him.

“A’Shu, I am so glad. This is the happiest moment I have known in this lifetime.” Wei Yan’s voice, too, had lost its usual steadiness, and was threaded through with joy and emotion.

He opened his hand and gently enclosed her soft, slender fingers within his.

His hand was lean and firm and strong, the palm carrying a light roughness of calluses, warm with his own heat — and with a gentleness that was also resolute, it wrapped her hand entirely within his.

Ling Jingshu felt no fear. Only an endless, boundless sense of peace and gladness.

The shadows and nightmares of the past had finally, truly receded from her life.

From this moment on, she was wholly and completely reborn.

……

The two of them stood like that, hand in hand, and stared at each other in a kind of soft, contented daze for a long while.

After a time that could not be measured, Wei Yan finally came back to himself.

His left hand still held hers. He raised his right hand and gently, tenderly wiped the traces of tears from the corners of her eyes — and as he did, he smiled and coaxed her softly: “Please cry no more. If you keep on, I will be so overcome with tenderness I will not be able to bear it.”

The tide of emotion in Ling Jingshu had also settled, and hearing this, she could not help but curve her lips: “I never imagined you could say such sweet things.”

Wei Yan answered her with complete seriousness: “I do not know how to say sweet things. I only ever say what is in my heart.”

“Such pretty words!” Ling Jingshu tried to keep a straight face and pretend to be displeased, but the sweetness of her smile had long since bloomed from the corners of her eyes and the arch of her brows, and spread all the way to the curve of her lips.

Like the warmth of a spring sun, coaxing a thousand flowers to open wild and free across every hill and valley.

So radiant. So sweet. So moving. So beautiful.

What man alive could withstand a smile like that?

Wei Yan’s breath caught for a beat. He forced himself to look away, his voice filled with a barely-contained laughter of helpless surrender: “A’Shu, please do not smile at me like that in future. Otherwise, I am truly afraid I will lose all control of myself and do something that oversteps its bounds.”

Even in his most impassioned moments, he was still making every effort to hold himself back, for fear of causing her the smallest harm.

Ling Jingshu, for reasons she could not quite account for, heard herself say aloud before she had even thought: “When two hearts feel the same, how could that be overstepping?”

The words were barely out before she realized what she had said. Her cheeks flushed a deep, burning crimson at once.

How could she have said something like that!

It was simply… simply tantamount to encouraging him!

Wei Yan had already turned to look at her. In those usually calm and tranquil eyes, a torrent of delighted surprise and barely restrained excitement shone through — along with a deep, thrumming feeling he could no longer hold back: “A’Shu, did I hear you correctly? You are truly allowing me to draw close to you?”

What a fool he was being!

At a moment like this, and he was still asking all these measured, polite questions!

Was he not supposed to simply close his eyes and kiss her?

Ling Jingshu’s face burned with mortification. She could not bring herself to say another word, and simply looked away the smallest degree. Her flushed, glowing face, suffused with rosy color, was like the dewy freshness of early morning light — unutterably lovely and bright.

Fortunately, Wei Yan did not make a fool of himself after all, and let this good moment pass him by. He extended his arms and, with a care that was also tender, drew her into his embrace. Then, lowering his head, he pressed light kisses to her forehead and her cheeks — gentle as a butterfly alighting on the heart of a flower.

His every careful, tentative motion was as though he were cradling the world’s one and only irreplaceable treasure.

Ling Jingshu had already squeezed her eyes shut with shyness long before.

His chest was warm and broad, and leaning into his embrace, she felt a sense of peace and security beyond any she had known.

His lips finally found hers.

First, a gentle pressing together — then a soft, tender exploration. When he sensed her acceptance, he gave himself permission to go further, and deepened the kiss entirely.

Lips and breath entwined, each giving and receiving in equal measure.

They exchanged the urgency of each other’s breathing.

Two hearts, separated only by the walls of their chests, beat rapidly — and gradually, it became impossible to tell whose breath was whose, whose heartbeat belonged to whom. Everything merged, and became one.