Chapter 62

Chapter 62: As if deliberately… deliberately stirring her, he did strange things.

In the Capital, the Emperor, who hadn’t entered the Empress’s palace for some time, visited the Cold Palace and then spent several consecutive days at Consort Ning’s Yongle Palace.

Sometimes he arrived directly by imperial sedan, other times via secret passage—it seemed he intended to take permanent residence there.

Amidst these harmonious days overflowing with parental affection, Seventh Prince Jiang Ziye grew increasingly irritable.

One evening after dinner, Jiang Ziye and Jiang Yuheng were dismissed from the main hall by their father and mother. Barely out of earshot from the courtyard, Jiang Ziye lost control and kicked a nearby tree violently. The impact startled Jiang Yuheng into breaking from a brisk walk into a sprint, vanishing instantly.

Useless.

Jiang Ziye stared at the fleeing figure, his angry words catching in his throat as his expression darkened further.

Back in his own courtyard, a shadow guard finally reported the Cold Palace incident from days earlier.

The Emperor had gone there to inform the deposed Empress Liu Baozhu that the deposed Crown Prince Jiang Wu might have perished in Daizhou at refugees’ hands. After a long silence, Liu Baozhu remarked, "At least she redeemed herself through sacrifice."

Though the deposed Empress missed the Emperor’s reaction, their spy noted his immediate displeasure. Even when Liu Baozhu softened her tone, mentioning fetal movements, the Emperor showed none of his prior patience. He spoke curtly before leaving by sedan.

All useless!

Jiang Ziye found it darkly amusing. After using Jiang Wu as a pawn for eighteen years and approving her exile to the Han family’s Linzhou—clearly intending her death—the Emperor now played the grieving father. He even criticized Liu Baozhu’s lack of maternal feeling. Ridiculous. Or perhaps it wasn’t grief, just wounded imperial pride over refugees defying his authority.

Liu Baozhu proved equally worthless. Now pregnant with a "golden child," she treated her disgraced daughter as a criminal? Had she forgotten who ordered Jiang Wu to "masquerade as male"? Certainly not the infant Jiang Wu!

Thanks to the Emperor’s earlier visits, no one in the Cold Palace dared mistreat Liu Baozhu. He still remembered her eighteen years of suppressing Han Yu and stabilizing the Empress’s palace. Had she maintained that dignity, the unborn child might have freed her. Now his displeasure was obvious.

Couldn’t she fake maternal sorrow for a dead, disgraced daughter? Useless!

Jiang Ziye finally understood the Emperor’s sudden appearances at Yongle Palace. Having witnessed female "callousness" from Liu Baozhu, he sought comfort with Consort Ning.

How infuriating!

Hadn’t the Emperor enough chaos? He’d exposed the Crown Prince prematurely, Jiang Shouchuan’s arrogance spiraled beyond control, the Heir of Prince Cheng’s death left Yizhou unmanageable, and Daizhou’s refugee crisis raged. Wasn’t that sufficient distraction?

Jiang Ziye’s face darkened as his fingers drummed the desk.

What else could he do to divert the old man’s attention?

The Ning family’s decline was to blame. After bandits killed his grandfather—their pillar—they retreated to Qiongzhou, leaving no capable allies in the Capital.

He inherited only a handful of competent guards, all officially known to the Emperor.

Despite two years of effort, he still lacked sufficient skilled subordinates.

Meanwhile, in Yongle Palace’s main hall, the Emperor dreamed with Ning Shanru about traveling mountains and rivers after abdicating. He never imagined his chosen successor dreaded inheriting the throne and instead plotted new troubles for him.

Life overflowed with such unpredictability.

Just as Du Yinsui, after resupplying in Dingchuan City and heading southwest, never expected her newly tutored little one to smell like a biochemical weapon.

In their upper room at a Shuzhou inn, Du Yinsui ruthlessly occupied the opposite end of a long table from the little one. When the child tried sneaking closer, she leaned back coldly.

Though her heightened sense of smell made distance irrelevant, the psychological barrier helped!

Who knew studying could make someone reek a hundred times worse than the foulest cheese?

What caliber of academic failure produced such an odor?

She thanked fate for not awakening this ability during her pre-apocalypse schooling—she’d have collapsed before the apocalypse began.

No matter how pitifully the little one looked at her, Du Yinsui refused to approach during study time.

Ah…

Comparing it this way.

Du Yinsui ignored the little one’s angry glare, mentally blocked out the stinky cheese smell, and turned slightly to freshen her nose with the nearby tangy sweetness.

Sure enough, even though Jiang Wu picked the study material, the focus on learning couldn’t hide the scent he secretly liked.

Once she got used to it, it smelled quite nice.

Just as Du Yinsui was secretly using the sweet aroma to wash away the little one’s mental attack, she suddenly got called out.

"Ahem, little Du girl, your ink’s dripping. Did your brush freeze mid-air?" Qin Chongli tapped the table from across her.

"Teacher, honestly… I just need to read, not write. I can understand the bandit notice; why must I scribble on it?" Having had enough schooling before the apocalypse, Du Yinsui didn’t want to try hard.

"Recognizing words isn’t enough. What if you need to jot something down or write a letter? With your messy scrawl? Who could read it?" Qin Chongli refused to let her set a bad example.

Du Yinsui put down the brush and shoved the paper beside her aside: "Jiang Wu, read."

"Heaven and earth, profound and yellow, the universe vast and boundless, the sun and moon rise and set…" Jiang Wu had barely started when Qin Chongli knocked the table to stop him.

"You, you, you… You’re spoiling her!" Qin Chongli forgot about making up for anything and pointed angrily at Jiang Wu. "What good is it if only you can read it? Is she writing just for you?"

"Exactly, I have no family. Who else would I write for?" Du Yinsui said boldly.

Du Yinsui meant to add that Qin Chongli, Chu Xiulan, and both kids could read her writing fine. But before she could speak, a burst of floral and fruity scent exploded beside her, blown in by the wind through the half-open window, covering her face.

Without looking, Du Yinsui knew Jiang Wu must be blushing again.

Seriously…

After disguising himself in the palace for eighteen years, shouldn’t he be someone unshaken even if the sky fell?

Why blush, blush, and blush once more.

Du Yinsui glanced sideways and saw Jiang Wu avoiding eye contact, pressing his hand to his cheek repeatedly, trying to cool it down fast.

Jiang Wu’s useless fussing made Du Yinsui smile despite herself.

Well, in those eighteen years, Jiang Wu probably never faced this issue; he hadn’t trained for it.

"You two, enough. Out, out, both of you, stop distracting the kids." Sitting right in front of the four learners, Qin Chongli saw the guilty blushing and exchanged glances too clearly!

"Teacher…" Qin Chongli’s words made Jiang Wu’s face burn hotter.

"Out, out, Du Yinsui, go to the next room and practice writing. If you don’t fill ten pages…" Qin Chongli paused.

Since Du Yinsui wasn’t like Jiang Wu—not really his student or grandchild—Qin Chongli wasn’t sure how to punish her.

But seeing Du Yinsui smile at Jiang Wu, Qin Chongli finished: "Jiang Wu, go watch her. If she doesn’t fill ten pages, you skip meat tonight."

Du Yinsui: "???"

"Yes, Teacher." Jiang Wu, too flushed to stay seated, quickly packed his books and writing stuff and stood up.

"Wait, if I don’t fill ten pages, she can’t eat meat?" Du Yinsui was confused.

"What else? Can I stop you from eating meat?" Qin Chongli, swept along moodily, stroked his nonexistent beard and got madder.

Fine, off to the next room, away from the stinky cheese, happy for all.

"Hey, use the brush and ink, not those charcoal sticks from last time." Qin Chongli added before they left, pleased to see someone glare when her plan got exposed.

Hmph, who made you develop a weakness? Now I’ve got you. Though Qin Chongli thought he’d found a way to make someone study properly, he never considered why that weakness existed in the first place.

Now that the group had money and settled into Shuzhou’s stable environment, they naturally stayed at the inn whenever possible, boldly booking three upper rooms. Previously, study sessions took place in Qin Chongli and Qin Haoyang’s room. Next door was where Du Yinsui and Jiang Wu stayed.

It wasn’t for any special reason—if each had their own room and trouble arose, it might go unnoticed until morning, with no one to call for help at night. Since they’d all lived together before, sharing a room was nothing.

Du Yinsui didn’t mind, but Jiang Wu insisted on sleeping on the floor, and she didn’t stop him. *Sleep however you like—whoever gets back pain suffers.* Driven out by Qin Chongli, they retreated to their own room next door.

Free from the teacher’s pressure, Du Yinsui slumped over the desk, eyeing the ten pages of handwriting practice.

"Jiang Wu, you’ll write these for me, right?" She nudged the ink and brush toward him with two fingers.

Jiang Wu: "…"

"I really don’t want to," Du Yinsui groaned, tilting her head. "But if I don’t, the teacher will nag endlessly."

Jiang Wu: "…"

Seeing her pitiful act fail, Du Yinsui sat upright abruptly: "Fine! My writing’s ugly anyway. I’ll write. I’ll write *so beautifully* that everyone will adore my handwriting and beg to exchange letters. I’ll endure the effort—anything to delight my future correspondents!"

"Your writing… isn’t ugly," Jiang Wu pressed down on the paper she tried to snatch away. "You worked hard finding the ginseng yesterday, Du girl. Let me handle this small task."

*Yesterday, Du Yinsui had only marked the spot; Qin Chongli and Jiang Wu did the actual digging.* Still…

"Alright, since you insist—*you* write." Du Yinsui released the paper. "But make it look just as ‘not ugly’ as mine."

Jiang Wu nodded and began grinding ink.

Du Yinsui shamelessly tugged open Jiang Wu’s waist pouch, scooping out a handful of shelled pine nuts to munch on.

*Jiang Wu, master imitator—thoroughly managed.*

"Don’t eat too many. We’re having shrimp for dinner," Jiang Wu murmured as he wrote.

Skilled tasks, repeated often, become thoughtless routines.

*So what should one ponder during such moments…?*

As Du Yinsui lazily tossed pine nuts into her mouth, she caught a whiff of tension.

"You eat too," she declared, shoving a pine nut between Jiang Wu’s lips.

Her soft fingertip brushed his mouth. Jiang Wu’s eyes flew wide—he nearly dropped the tiny nut, his brush jerking to blot the page with ink.

"Ah! Just like my handwriting earlier!" Du Yinsui admired the ink-smeared character, nodding approvingly.

Jiang Wu: "…"

*Why did she…?*

Lately, Jiang Wu felt Du Yinsui acted… oddly. At times, it seemed deliberate—like she *meant* to unsettle him with strange gestures.

*No, not strange exactly.*

*Just… overly familiar.*

*Things she shouldn’t do to him.*

*Why…?*

Mechanically writing, Jiang Wu stole sidelong glances at her. She’d fed him a pine nut, then resumed eating as if nothing happened.

*So… this time wasn’t intentional either?*