For a moment, Ming Tan truly wanted to rush forward and embrace him. Her fingertips twitched, but she ultimately restrained herself, stepping back instead.
“Entering someone’s room unannounced in the middle of the night—doesn’t Your Highness realize how frightening that is?” She averted her gaze, her voice cold and rigid.
“Indeed, my mistake,” Jiang Xu replied, his deep gaze fixed on Ming Tan.
His swift admission caught Ming Tan off guard. After a pause, she turned away, pulling the brocade quilt over herself. “I’m going to sleep now.”
“Alright,” he said.
Suddenly, the sound of clothes being removed filled the air.
Ming Tan whirled around, eyes wide. She retreated further, stammering, “What—what are you doing? Why are you undressing?”
Her movement inadvertently made room for Jiang Xu, who casually lay down on the outer side of the bed and closed his eyes.
Bewildered, Ming Tan stared at him for a long moment before gently pushing him.
Jiang Xu’s brow furrowed, and his elbow twitched slightly.
Was he injured?
Ming Tan instinctively withdrew her hand, her gaze shifting to the apparent wound.
“During the attack on Suiyang City, I fractured my left hand,” he explained, eyes still closed, his voice low and steady. “Given the limited resources at the border, the wound wasn’t treated properly and hasn’t fully healed. However, it’s no longer a serious concern. You needn’t worry.”
Ming Tan bristled internally. Who had asked him? More importantly, who was worried?
As she prepared to retort, Jiang Xu continued, “Actually, during the earlier ambush, an arrow missed my heart by mere inches. That injury was far more severe than my hand, but I survived. As you wished, I’ve returned alive.”
His words left Ming Tan speechless. How could she argue now?
After a moment, she wordlessly moved inward, silently acquiescing to his presence on half the bed.
Jiang Xu kept his eyes closed, the corner of his mouth imperceptibly lifting in the darkness.
The night passed dreamlessly.
Initially, Ming Tan thought sleep would elude her, but inexplicably, she drifted off soon after Jiang Xu lay beside her.
When she awoke, the space next to her was empty and cool, devoid of warmth. If not for the rumpled quilt, she might have believed the previous night was merely an incredibly vivid dream.
Hearing movement in the room, Su Xin and Lu E quickly entered to assist Ming Tan with her morning routine.
Both wore joyful expressions, prompting Ming Tan to ask, “What are you smiling about?”
“Nothing, my lady,” Lu E replied cheerfully. “We’re simply happy that you and His Highness have reconciled.”
Ming Tan froze, snatching the sash from her hand. “Who said we’ve reconciled?”
Su Xin and Lu E exchanged glances but continued their tasks without comment.
After dressing Ming Tan, Su Xin changed the subject. “His Highness is practicing swordplay outside. He said he’d wait for you to wake so you could dine together.”
“Isn’t he injured? He shouldn’t be practicing,” Ming Tan responded without thinking.
The maids exchanged knowing looks, as if to say, “See? You’re concerned about His Highness. You’ve reconciled.”
Ming Tan caught their expressions and wanted to explain, but realized that any explanation would only make her appear more guilty. She swallowed her words and instead instructed them to bring her breakfast to the room, specifically requesting a light meal of porridge.
Despite her clear intention to avoid dining with a certain someone, that person still entered the room, sitting beside her with two steamed buns and a small dish of pickled vegetables.
“Would you like some?” Jiang Xu asked, noticing Ming Tan staring at his plate.
Ming Tan quickly averted her gaze, stirring her porridge listlessly. “No need, Your Highness. Please, enjoy your meal.”
Jiang Xu nodded and began eating his buns with the pickled vegetables.
After a while, Ming Tan stole a glance at him from the corner of her eye.
She was dumbfounded. Was he just here to eat breakfast?
Ming Tan almost laughed in exasperation, her spoon scraping the bottom of the bowl, and pushing the white porridge over the rim.
Suddenly, she paused and spoke coldly, “I recall Your Highness prefers meat-filled buns for breakfast and dislikes plain ones. There’s no need to force yourself.”
“You remember that I like meat-filled buns.”
Ming Tan faltered. “That’s not important. What matters is—”
“It is important,” he interjected. “You are important to me.”
The room fell silent once more. Ming Tan set down her spoon and stood, wordlessly walking out. Jiang Xu followed a moment later.
Since they had come to the estate under the pretext of reviewing accounts, they had to at least go through the motions.
Throughout the day, the estate manager accompanied Ming Tan, guiding her around the property. Later, he brought the account books from the past two years for her perusal.
Jiang Xu quietly followed along. When the account books arrived, he occasionally flipped through one. Ming Tan didn’t pay much attention to him but didn’t send him away either.
As they left the estate manager’s house at dusk, Ming Tan addressed Jiang Xu behind her, keeping her voice even: “Your Highness need not worry. As you’ve said, as long as I remain the Princess of Beidi, the Jingan Marquis’s household will be protected. Even if only for the sake of the Marquis’s household, I will fulfill my duties as Princess. Once I’ve reviewed the estate’s accounts, I’ll return to the manor. Your Highness truly needn’t waste time here.”
“I don’t consider this a waste of time,” he replied.
“Well, I do!” Ming Tan finally snapped. This man had come all this way, bringing nothing to show his sincerity. She had given him numerous opportunities to speak, yet he remained silent like a wooden statue. She remembered how eloquent Shu Er had been, nearly convincing her. Why was Jiang Xu so reticent now? Couldn’t he at least repeat those words? Did he expect her to divine his thoughts from his typically stoic expression?
She just wanted him to make the effort to explain everything to her personally. Even if marrying her had initially been a calculated move, even if he had knowingly stood by while the Emperor sought to reclaim military power from her father—if he would just explain and apologize, perhaps comfort her, she might forgive him. After all, she cared for him so deeply.
The more Ming Tan thought about it, the angrier she became. “Stop following me! I won’t love you anymore!”
“Won’t you?” he asked.
“I won’t!”
“Then why did you include the Wuheng jade in your letter home?”
“That was my brother’s doing. It had nothing to do with me,” Ming Tan replied, having prepared this excuse long ago.
Jiang Xu didn’t pursue that point further. Instead, he asked, “Then why did you go to Lingmiao Temple to pray for my safe awakening and successful return to the capital?”
“How do you know about that?” Ming Tan spun around, shock evident on her face.
“I also know that the devout Princess of Beidi rushed to Lingmiao Temple to fulfill her vow when news of my awakening and crossing of the Yue River reached the capital. She donated golden statues to all the Buddhist halls in Lingmiao Temple.”
Ming Tan was too stunned to speak.
She had no idea that her whispered prayers at Lingmiao Temple had reached the ears of a young novice monk in the side hall’s library.
This novice was Master Huiyuan’s disciple. After Suiyang fell, Master Huiyuan sent a letter to Jiang Xu, recounting Ming Tan’s many prayers word for word.
“Buddha, please ensure my husband’s safe awakening. If this wish is granted, this devotee vows to abstain from meat for three years… No, three years of vegetarianism might be too challenging, and it could be detrimental to a woman’s health. Perhaps I should offer to regild the Buddha statues instead. If my wish is granted, I vow to donate golden statues for all the deities in the temple.”
“Although my husband has safely awakened, it’s uncertain when he’ll return to the capital. There are still many counties and towns in Rongzhou to reclaim. I fear that after recapturing Suiyang, he and his subordinates might become overconfident and careless. Buddha, please bless my husband with a safe return to the capital. This devotee pledges to donate more incense and oil, and to help renovate your esteemed temple.”
Upon hearing this, Ming Tan stumbled, losing her footing.
Even now, she stubbornly refused to admit her concern: “I hoped for your swift recovery and return because I care about our nation’s territory. I longed for the speedy reclamation of the thirteen northern states. If something had happened to you, it would have surely affected morale. Don’t flatter yourself!”
Darkness had fallen unnoticed, and Ming Tan suddenly realized she had taken a wrong turn. With Jiang Xu right behind her, she couldn’t admit to getting lost on her estate. So, she forged ahead through waist-high crops, pretending to know exactly where she was going.
In contrast, Jiang Xu moved with ease. He remained close behind Ming Tan and, seeing her refusal to admit her feelings, pressed on: “Then was it also my misunderstanding that you asked your maid to reserve a window seat at Huichun Tower today?”
Ming Tan completely lost her balance, her foot slipping in the mud. With a loud thud, she fell backward.
Jiang Xu caught her swiftly.
Ming Tan stared at him, wide-eyed, as if asking, “How do you even know about that?”
But Jiang Xu didn’t answer her unspoken question. Instead, he held her from behind, his voice low and earnest in her ear: “Ah Tan, I admit that initially, our marriage involved some deception on my part. However, it wasn’t as ignoble as you might imagine. Having married you, I’m committed to ensuring your lifelong security.
“My past mistakes are my own. I promise never to repeat them. I won’t endanger those close to you again, nor will I cause you to live in fear. Will you give me another chance?
“If there are areas where I’ve fallen short, I’m willing to improve. I’ve come to cherish you, though I can’t pinpoint exactly when it began. What I do know is that I want you to remain the Princess of Beidi forever, and more importantly, to be Jiang Qi Zhi’s wife for all time.”