Jing Hengbo felt that today’s daylight was particularly difficult to endure.

Time seemed divided into countless long threads, pulling and tangling, dragging the sun and refusing to let it set behind the western mountains. As she traveled, she watched that golden crow slowly wandering at the clear edge of the sky, wishing she could reach out and pull the sun down, exchange it for darkness, and slam it down with a thud.

On one hand impatient, on the other having to pretend composure, her eyes searched for rivers by the roadside while her heart thought about the deity bathing in rivers and some things she shouldn’t think about but couldn’t help thinking about. From time to time she felt her nose getting hot and had to quickly cover it.

In mid-afternoon, Qi Sha, temporarily serving as scout, came to say there was a suitable resting place ahead—relatively hidden with water and mountains. Further ahead would be uncertain. Pei Shu was about to ask why stop so early when they should continue traveling, but heard Jing Hengbo urgently say, “Stop! Stop!”

“Why stop so early?” Pei Shu suspiciously stared at Jing Hengbo. This woman had been absent-minded all day, her cheeks seemingly flushed, not knowing what mischief she was plotting.

“Wash…” The absent-minded Jing Hengbo almost blurted out, then quickly composed herself and said seriously, “Like it! Mind your own business!”

Pei Shu snorted and turned to arrange the early stop. Anyway, after tonight they’d enter Daimao territory where there might be a fierce battle, so resting early to conserve energy was good too.

Once rest was announced, the Silent Army quickly began arranging the camp. Since it was still early, Jing Hengbo began preparing bathing supplies and clothes to change into.

Whether or not the deity would scrub her back, after several days on the road without bathing, she wanted to clean up thoroughly.

Someone knocked on the carriage door—the rhythm gentle, neither light nor heavy. She could tell it wasn’t Pei Shu’s sudden bang, nor Gong Yin who always entered without announcement. Without turning around, she smiled while organizing clothes, “The door’s not locked, come in.”

The carriage door opened. She turned around and first saw the March spring light outside, so rich it seemed ready to flow. She was somewhat surprised by her own dullness—how had she not noticed that spring had arrived? The colors between heaven and earth were rich and gorgeous, flowers blooming so brilliant and thick that the sky appeared clear and bright because of them, with tender green grass tips swaying gently in the wind, slanting down thin, pure white clouds.

Her eyes seemed washed by such crystalline beauty, and the smiling Yélu Qi formed his own elegant charm within this transparency, each adding color to the spring light.

Jing Hengbo couldn’t help but hold her breath slightly, then smiled because the elegant, mysterious noble gentleman had a bamboo basket on his arm—a rather incongruous image.

Yélu Qi smiled and lifted the basket on his arm toward her, saying, “Just saw quite a few edible wild vegetables nearby. Since it’s still early, would you like to go on a spring outing to pick vegetables and taste some rustic pleasures?”

Jing Hengbo glanced at the rich spring colors outside that were startlingly beautiful. The fragrance of grass and flowers rushed toward her. Such weather for spring outings and picking wild vegetables would truly be a rare leisurely and wonderful experience since her transmigration. She was about to agree when she suddenly felt a cold gleam on her back. Turning around sharply, she saw no one at first, but looking past the carriage window, she saw Gong Yin, who hadn’t been in her line of sight before, had somehow appeared not far from the carriage, standing with his back to her, gazing distantly as if lost in thought.

Could someone release killing intent with their back? she wondered, immediately turning back to smile at Yélu Qi, “I’m a bit tired and want to sleep a while. Won’t accompany you.”

Yélu Qi didn’t seem disappointed, saying, “Then wait for the wild vegetable feast,” and walked away with the basket. Jing Hengbo watched him stroll along the field ridges in flowing robes, picking wild grass and green mulberry branches with complete composure and grace. She sighed slightly, leaning back and thinking that such a good man—suitable for country, home, kitchen, and the world—really hanging himself on a crooked tree like her with an owner was truly a great crime. Was there any way to express-deliver him? Would Ji Wen be willing to sign for delivery?

As she was lost in such wild thoughts, she suddenly heard a knock on the carriage wall. Looking out, she saw Gong Yin standing beside the carriage, calmly saying, “Want to eat wild vegetables?”

Jing Hengbo burst out laughing with a “poof.” Gong Yin’s expression was even more composed than Yélu Qi’s, as if this idea was entirely his own sudden inspiration. “Not going? Then forget it.”

“Going, going.” Jing Hengbo knew his nature and quickly lifted her skirt to jump down. Gong Yin took her hand and started walking. Jing Hengbo sighed, “Is this your equipment for digging wild vegetables?”

“Mm?” A certain deity who only knew how to read reports and cast ice and snow turned his head to look at her in confusion.

“Are we supposed to dig with our hands?” Jing Hengbo had to summon Yong Xue to bring a basket and dagger—the latter being convenient for picking vegetables.

Gong Yin looked at those things, then lifted his foot to walk. Jing Hengbo pulled him back and stuffed the basket into his arm.

Gong Yin stopped, looking at her, then at the basket. Jing Hengbo crossed her arms, looking at the deity carrying a basket—very handsome, very down-to-earth, just as it should be.

“A good boyfriend shouldn’t let his girlfriend work even a little,” she smiled sweetly, training her boyfriend.

Gong Yin looked at her, then at Yélu Qi in the distance carrying a basket and searching for wild vegetables on the riverbank. He adjusted the basket upward, tossed the dagger inside, took her hand, and walked toward the riverbank.

Now Jing Hengbo objected. She had just found excuses to refuse Yélu Qi, and now going to the riverbank to dig wild vegetables with Gong Yin—how embarrassing if they ran into each other.

“Let’s just dig some here. Wild vegetables are growing well now, we can dig anywhere.”

Gong Yin didn’t seem to object either. The two searched for wild vegetables along the roadside, but Jing Hengbo was dumbfounded—she didn’t recognize wild vegetables.

She only knew spring had many wild vegetables, but was familiar only with shepherd’s purse, purslane, and kalimeris. Even then, she only knew the names—as for what they looked like, they might recognize her but she didn’t recognize them.

If she picked the wrong vegetables and got poisonous ones, that would be disastrous. She was about to consult Yélu Qi when she saw Gong Yin suddenly squat down, casually pushing aside plants. Taking the dagger, he made cutting sounds close to the ground, and large clusters of plump green feathery wild vegetables were tossed into the basket.

“Shepherd’s purse,” Gong Yin said concisely. “Brightens eyes, clears the heart, diuretic, treats dysentery.”

Jing Hengbo sniffed that aroma and her eyes lit up, shouting, “Shepherd’s purse! I love shepherd’s purse dumplings most!”

Gong Yin looked at her, then at the shepherd’s purse, frowning as he probably contemplated the difficulty of turning these wild vegetables into dumplings.

“What’s this?” Jing Hengbo spotted another different plant that looked quite tender with round leaves.

“Kalimeris,” Gong Yin specifically picked the tender stems. “Clears heat, detoxifies, promotes dampness, aids digestion.”

“This one, this one!” Jing Hengbo spotted another wild vegetable with obovate leaves. “This looks like purslane.”

At the research institute, she had once eaten purslane buns with a slightly sour taste that she didn’t particularly like.

“You’re finally knowledgeable for once.” When someone was in a good mood, he was always quite sharp-tongued.

“Then why are you so knowledgeable? Even recognizing wild vegetables?” Jing Hengbo hadn’t expected Gong Yin to be so familiar with wild vegetables. As soon as she asked, she knew she’d misspoken—having experienced hardship since childhood, how could Gong Yin not know wild vegetables?

No wonder she didn’t think of it. The current Gong Yin was too transcendent and cold, untainted by worldly concerns, making it impossible to associate him with worldly filth and hardship.

Gong Yin’s hand stopped, and something in his hand broke. Jing Hengbo felt even more regretful—why make him recall that dark, heavy childhood?

Just as she was thinking of how to remedy this, suddenly a section of plump white grass root was brought to her lips. She instinctively bit it, chewed, first frowned, then couldn’t help but brighten, “Sweet! Bitter then sweet!”

“This is sugar beet root.”

“This, just now I…” Jing Hengbo wanted to say something but didn’t know what to say.

Gong Yin picked up another sugar beet root and blocked her mouth with it. After she finished eating, he pointed to her mouth.

“With me, you never need to consider what you should or shouldn’t say. Never need to feel guilty or sorry for so-called misspeaking.” He picked up a sugar beet root and slowly brought it to his own lips.

The familiar yet strange taste first brought a faint bitterness to his lips and teeth, then a trace of sweetness quietly arose, sweeping across his taste buds, reminding him of past bitterness and the slight sweetness that existed within that bitterness. Then he saw the woman squatting before him, gorgeous as this March spring light, her eyes reflecting the flowing scenery of the world, reflecting him at this moment. Seeing such a face and such eyes, the taste of that sugar beet root seemed suddenly full, all bitterness gone, like honey flooding the world.

One sugar beet root, divided in two—half for her, half for himself, each biting with a crisp sound.

After eating, he said, “Because being with you tastes like this.”

Jing Hengbo sat on the ground, slowly chewing the sugar beet root. The aftertaste of bitter-then-sweet lingered in her mouth. She couldn’t help wanting to smile, yet couldn’t help contemplating deeply, thinking about walking this path with him—truly experiencing hardship first, until the heart’s bitterness, then slowly finding the true taste of sweetness, bit by bit, like waves hitting an empty shore, gradually returning. Suddenly looking back, flowers on all the mountains had bloomed sweetly.

She wondered if, having walked to now, they had reached the sweet ending like sugar cane.

She bit the sugar beet root with a crisp crunch, using force with her teeth like making a fierce vow in her heart—whether this was the beginning or process of sweetness, whoever wanted to cut off her sweetness again, she would definitely bite those obstacles to pieces!

She followed behind Gong Yin with the sugar beet root in her mouth. Gong Yin moved quickly, and in moments had a full basket—shepherd’s purse, bracken, kalimeris, purslane, wild garlic, field thistle, mallow, dandelion, all varieties. While digging, he educated Queen Jing on the side. As long as Jing Hengbo was with him, she found everything interesting. Following him unconsciously around this area, she suddenly heard rustling sounds and looked up to see Yélu Qi standing up.

Looking around, Jing Hengbo realized they had somehow reached the riverbank—that scoundrel Gong Yin never truly gave up on provoking his rival.

She could only awkwardly greet Yélu Qi, “Ah, what a coincidence, you’re here too? Hehe, I just slept a bit, couldn’t sleep, so got up to dig wild vegetables…”

“Wait for the wild vegetable feast later. I found some fresh tender broad beans.” Yélu Qi lifted his basket, gently interrupting her words. His smile remained softly beautiful, lighter and more delicate than the March spring breeze, making the ashamed Jing Hengbo smile even more awkwardly.

Gong Yin glanced at him, probably knowing he would definitely lose in a cooking competition. He never competed in things he wasn’t good at—anyway, he’d achieved his original purpose. He casually curved his lips, stuffed the wild vegetable basket into Yélu Qi’s hands, saying, “Then I’ll trouble you to remember to make it light,” and pulled Jing Hengbo away.

“Hey, you…” Jing Hengbo didn’t know what to say, being pulled along unable to break free. Looking back at Yélu Qi, he was holding two baskets, slowly rolling up his sleeves. For some reason, Jing Hengbo felt that in the next instant, two flying knives would emerge from Yélu Qi’s sleeves and whoosh into Gong Yin’s back… She shivered and quickly blocked Gong Yin’s back…

…

Although Yélu Qi had the potential to throw flying knives, undeniably, that evening’s wild vegetable feast was still genuine and absolutely delicious. The chef didn’t vent his anger on the ingredients, treating them as seriously as he did Jing Hengbo.

Cold kalimeris salad, Chinese toon egg pancake, shepherd’s purse egg custard, wild garlic stir-fried rabbit strips, horsetail stewed meat, smooth-fried pork strips with bracken, purslane buns—the buns dipped in sesame oil masked the vegetables’ natural slight sourness, creating a unique flavor. Shepherd’s purse meat dumplings were delicate and fragrant, the snow-white dumpling skins faintly showing emerald green—like artworks that made one reluctant to eat them.

Wild vegetables were oil-absorbing, so the chef specially roasted an extra-fat little wild boar and a large rabbit. The golden, glistening wild boar constantly rotating over the fire sizzled with oil. The meaty oil fragrance and wild vegetables’ fresh aroma seamlessly merged. Everyone’s eyes were dazed, and green lights lit up all over the mountains—a closer look revealed countless greedy mountain beasts.

The important figures enjoyed a hearty wild vegetable feast and praised it endlessly. Jing Hengbo felt somewhat embarrassed—this food couldn’t be shared with the Silent Army outside. Having friendly forces eat dry rations while she ate a feast was really unjustifiable. But Tie Xinze cheerfully said, “The Silent Army is trained with assassin qualities and doesn’t emphasize appetite. They wouldn’t eat even if given this.”

Jing Hengbo looked back to see green lights glowing all over the mountains—those were hungry wolves. But the wolves couldn’t approach because between them and the wolves were layers of Silent Army soldiers. Even she couldn’t clearly distinguish among those undulating mountain black shadows which were people, which were trees, and which were mountains.

The meal was so rich it was almost intoxicating. Jing Hengbo wanted to walk off the food—with such a full stomach, it would look ugly when someone scrubbed her back later. As she stood up, Gong Yin was about to follow. She was about to stop him when she suddenly saw Yélu Qi smiling and giving her a meaningful look.

Jing Hengbo was startled and quickly pressed Gong Yin down, making a “relieving oneself” gesture. Gong Yin sat back down.

Jing Hengbo circled around the crowd, following the direction Yélu Qi’s look had indicated, and walked to a deserted spot where she surprisingly found a small oil pot with a fire lit at an unknown time, boiling oil bubbling inside.

She was puzzled when footsteps sounded and Yélu Qi emerged from the darkness in flowing robes.

He carried a small bundle and smiled at Jing Hengbo.

Jing Hengbo was somewhat surprised. She originally didn’t want to meet privately with Yélu Qi—not because of any thoughts, but because Gong Yin’s jealousy was really too fierce and she didn’t want to create waves. But having wronged Yélu Qi this afternoon, she couldn’t completely ignore him either. Seeing his mysterious smile now, she felt uneasy and kept looking back toward the crowd, checking if Gong Yin was coming.

After watching for a while and seeing that side remained calm, she felt somewhat reassured. Turning back, she saw Yélu Qi had already squatted by the oil pot, his small bundle opened to reveal a pile of things. She curiously leaned over to examine them and asked in surprise, “Broad beans?”

On the clean cloth was a small pile of broad beans, fresh tender green, emanating a faint fragrance. The surface was wet, giving off water’s steam.

“Don’t all you women love snacks? I see you don’t have much opportunity to eat snacks.” Yélu Qi worked continuously, using a knife to cut each broad bean open in the middle, spreading them on the cloth to dry. Once the broad beans’ moisture had dried, he put them one by one into the oil pot to fry. The broad beans rolled and bobbed in the boiling oil, quickly changing from tender green to a more enticing golden color.

Yélu Qi quickly scooped them out and magically produced a small salt jar from his bosom. The fried broad beans were mixed with refined salt powder and stirred evenly with peeled willow stick.

The enticing aroma was overwhelming. Even though Jing Hengbo was already full, she couldn’t help sniffing.

“These are orchid beans, for you to eat when idle. My sister used to love eating these.” Yélu Qi again magically produced a stack of clean paper, folding it into a cup shape in a few moves, pouring the broad beans in before handing it to her.

Jing Hengbo took it—the cup was warm, and the split broad beans really looked like orchid flowers. The oil fragrance and broad bean aroma smelled so warm, and her heart felt warm too. She couldn’t help thanking him, “Yélu, I think I’ve never seen anyone more gentle and considerate than you.”

Yélu Qi’s smile, in the dark colors of starlight and night fire, became even more mysteriously charming, like a flower-room poem, beautifully and softly recited, making one’s dream soul think and long unforgettably.

“Women may perhaps yearn for passionate fire, or look up to mountain ice,” he smiled gently. “But after sailing past countless ships and experiencing the hardships of the red dust, they’ll know that what makes them find refuge is always human warmth and gentle breezes by their side.”

His words seemed meaningful, but she could only remain silent, leaving a slight smile at the corner of her lips, unable to argue.

All heartfelt intentions in the world deserved cherishing. She knew she was a fortunate woman. It was just that her fortune always had to be built on others’ regrets, which inevitably became a knot in her heart.

Yélu Qi had never been talkative either. He always stopped at just the right point. Having delivered the orchid beans, he left.

She stood dazedly in the forest holding the orchid beans, sighing slightly under the starlight and moonlight. After hesitating for a long time, she slowly picked up a bean and ate it.

Fragrant and crispy, slightly salty, melting in her mouth, the heat perfectly controlled, leaving a trace of fresh fragrant aftertaste between her lips and teeth. She had never eaten such delicious snacks.

Like him—just right, seemingly rich but actually light.

Though quite full, she still picked them one by one, absent-mindedly finishing them slowly while lost in thought. When her hand reached into the paper cup for the last time and found nothing, she smiled, licked her fingers, folded the paper cup properly, and buried it under the tree where the orchid beans had been fried.

Distant laughter and chatter came with the wind—Tie Xinze seemed to be telling jokes. She saw Yong Xue smiling, Gong Yin’s calm profile. He had his back to this side, face slightly turned, always waiting for news from her.

It was good that the orchid beans were finished—bringing them back would be troublesome. She sniffed the oil fragrance on her fingers and decided to walk in the forest to disperse the oily smell before returning.

She walked slowly in the forest, gradually feeling full of worries. Unknowingly she reached the riverside and saw the shimmering water, which reminded her of someone’s back-scrubbing promise. Thinking of back-scrubbing, she suddenly felt her back was very itchy.

No, not just her back—her face, body, everywhere developed a slight itchiness. This itch came suddenly, as if drilling out from her internal organs, instantly sweeping across all her skin. She rolled up her sleeves to scratch and saw small red dots on her arms in the moonlight.

She was startled—this looked like allergy symptoms?

Allergy?

Could it be the broad beans?

She had never eaten broad beans before. This type of food that might cause allergies wouldn’t be on the research institute cafeteria menu. After coming to Dahuang, broad beans—being highly seasonal—wouldn’t become the queen’s imperial cuisine. Later, through various circumstances, she indeed had never eaten them.

Was she allergic now?

Looking at the small red dots on her skin, she became anxious.

If Gong Yin saw this, how would she explain? Besides, she had just washed her skin clean, planning to amaze him—how could she affect her image with red dots all over?

She should bathe first and suppress these red dots.

Thinking and acting, she walked to the riverside, took off her outer clothes and pressed them under stones, then quietly entered the water.

Laughter and chatter were in the distance, making this stretch of river particularly secluded. The water sounds were leisurely, and moonlight was clearly stretched by the river water.

She was bathing, the mountains were silent, and between the mountains was the even more silent Silent Army—those undulating black shadows, vague outlines, indistinguishable whether they were mountains, trees, or people.