The Crown Grandson Consort, Jiang Rongyue, had passed away, her beauty and life extinguished like fading incense and shattering jade.

The birth of the imperial great-grandson was tinged with sorrow, and the entire Crown Prince’s residence fell into a hush of mourning.

In accordance with palace protocol, the Crown Grandson Consort’s funeral was held with great solemnity. Every official in the capital personally brought his family to pay their respects.

Far away at the temporary palace, the Emperor and Prince Yan soon received the grim news as well.

The Emperor, absorbed in his pursuit of immortality, felt a measure of regret upon hearing that his grandson’s wife had died in childbirth. Yet as the Son of Heaven and an elder, it was simply not proper for him to pay his respects in person. He merely instructed Eunuch Ding to go to the Crown Prince’s residence on his behalf.

Prince Yan, however, appeared deeply grieved: “I truly never expected the Crown Grandson Consort would pass like this. Father, I wish to go to the Crown Prince’s residence to pay my respects—seeing the Crown Grandson might also let me offer him some comfort.”

The Emperor nodded in approval.

No sooner had Prince Yan left than Consort Xian arrived.

“Your Majesty, this humble consort was shocked to hear of the Crown Grandson Consort’s passing—my heart aches with grief.” Consort Xian dabbed at the corners of her eyes with a handkerchief, her eyes red. “I ought to go to the Crown Prince’s residence myself, but I worry there would be no one to attend you, Your Majesty. After much thought, I can only send one of my female officials in my stead.”

The Emperor sighed. “Very well. Having someone close to you pay respects on your behalf is sentiment enough.”

Consort Xian thanked him for his grace and withdrew.

Once back in her chambers, she had someone summon Ling Jingshu. “A’Shu, go to the capital on my behalf right away and pay respects at the Crown Prince’s residence. If you cannot make it back tonight, stay at the Ling residence for the night—there’s no harm in returning tomorrow.”

Ever since hearing the shocking news of Jiang Rongyue’s death, Ling Jingshu’s mind had been in a daze. Everything she heard seemed muffled, as though filtered through a layer of haze, indistinct and unclear.

She nodded silently, even forgetting to express her thanks.

Consort Xian naturally took no offense at such a trifle. Seeing how distracted Ling Jingshu looked, she couldn’t help but let out a long sigh. “Don’t say you find it hard to bear—even I still haven’t recovered from the shock. Such a young, lovely girl, gone in the blink of an eye. It’s truly lamentable.”

The poor child, losing his birth mother the moment he was born.

In the future the Crown Grandson would surely remarry. Once a new Crown Grandson Consort came through the gates, she would inevitably bear children of her own. What fate awaited the son Jiang Rongyue had left behind was anyone’s guess.

To be born into the imperial family was both a fortune and, at the same time, the greatest misfortune under heaven. Without a mother’s care, the path ahead would surely be difficult.

Thinking of this, a wave of melancholy passed through Consort Xian’s heart.

Ling Jingshu’s spirits were low, and she had no heart for conversation. As she listened to Consort Xian’s rambling, Jiang Rongyue’s face kept surfacing in her mind.

When they first met, Jiang Rongyue’s sweet, innocent charm had left a deep impression on her. Afterward, though the two of them did not interact often, they had always gotten along amicably.

Their last meeting, in truth, had not been a pleasant one. Still, from Jiang Rongyue’s standpoint, what she had done was hardly blameworthy.

Months had passed since they parted, and now the news she heard was of Jiang Rongyue’s death in childbirth. Along with the grief came a helpless sigh at how fate seemed so unkind to a beautiful woman.

The Crown Grandson, at this moment, must be grieving terribly.

. . .

Ling Jingshu deliberately wore a plain, unadorned dress, applied no makeup, and wore only a white jade hairpin in her hair.

The carriage raced onward, and it was not until dusk that it finally reached the Crown Prince’s residence.

The servants of the residence wore mourning clothes, their faces etched with grief.

Mourners had come without pause since morning; the steward standing at the gate to greet guests already had aching, weary legs, his face stiff from holding the same expression for so long.

When he spotted a carriage bearing the palace’s insignia, the steward dared not be careless and hurried forward to meet it from afar.

A beautiful young woman in a plain dress stepped down from the carriage.

The steward froze for a moment before quickly catching himself and stepping forward to bow. “This servant greets Official Ling.” Ling Jingshu had accompanied Ling Xiao to the residence several times before, so most of the stewards there recognized her.

This time Ling Jingshu had come in place of Consort Xian, her station different from before, and the proper bearing had to be maintained. She gave a slight nod and said gently, “I come at Consort Xian’s command to pay respects. Please lead me to the mourning hall.”

The steward’s heart tightened with respect; he hastily acknowledged her and led Ling Jingshu into the residence.

The mourning hall had been set up in the front hall of the residence.

Everywhere the eye fell was white. Though many people passed through, none made a sound. As they walked, everyone—whether consciously or not—softened their footsteps, as if afraid that heavy footfalls might disturb the one resting peacefully within the coffin.

The moment Ling Jingshu entered the hall, the first thing she saw was the heavy coffin.

And beside it stood the Crown Grandson.

The once spirited, radiant young man had now witnessed his wife’s death with his own eyes. His entire being was shrouded in silent grief, his figure desolate and forlorn.

He looked at no one, simply standing by the coffin, gazing at the woman lying within it.

Jiang Rongyue had died of postpartum hemorrhage. Before being placed in the coffin, her body had already been cleansed and dressed in fresh clothes. Now she lay quietly within, as though merely asleep, her expression peaceful.

A heavy, bitter weight settled in Ling Jingshu’s chest—an indescribable, suffocating sorrow.

She took a deep breath. After paying her respects, she should have left at once. But seeing the Crown Grandson’s expression—one of utter despair, as though his heart had died along with his wife—she found she could not bear it. She walked over to his side and said softly, “The departed cannot return. Please, Your Highness, restrain your grief.”

The familiar voice reached the Crown Grandson’s ears.

Having stood motionless all this while, the Crown Grandson finally showed some reaction.

He raised his head slightly and glanced at Ling Jingshu.

Having not spoken a single word all day, his throat was parched, and his voice came out low and hoarse. “You’ve come.”

“Yes.” However hardened her heart might be, Ling Jingshu could not bring herself to remain cold-faced before him now. She answered softly, “This servant comes on Consort Xian’s behalf to pay respects. The dead cannot be brought back to life. If the Crown Grandson Consort knew from beyond, she would not wish for Your Highness to sink into despair. I hope Your Highness will recover your spirits soon, and not let those at your side—and those who care for you—worry.”

On any ordinary day, the Crown Grandson might have been stirred by the phrase “those who care for you.” But at this moment he showed not the slightest reaction, merely nodding and falling silent once more.

Ling Jingshu said no more. She bowed and turned to leave.

However grief-stricken the Crown Grandson might be, it was not her place to comfort him. If she showed too much concern, and the Crown Grandson mistakenly thought she meant to take Jiang Rongyue’s place, that would be disastrous.

Ling Jingshu’s departure was far too resolute.

By the time the Crown Grandson had recovered himself somewhat, he found that Ling Jingshu was already nowhere to be seen.

His heart, already cold, grew even more desolate. Ling Jingshu had always been this way—always clear about what she should do, never softening.

He silently turned his head back, his gaze returning to Jiang Rongyue’s face. Only now did he truly realize what he had lost.

What he had lost was the woman in this world who had loved him most.

Never again, perhaps, would another woman love him this way.