Chapter 28

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Chapter 28: So this was what it felt like when someone’s words pierced straight through the heart…

The road to exile was tough; after a day of walking, their legs no longer felt like their own. The usual daily rhythm was gone, and the only sensible thing was to sleep right after their evening meal.

That day, several prisoner families lit fires to cook hot meals, roasting and boiling food, so it took longer than previous days for things to quiet down.

In the Mountain Spirit Temple, weary snores rose and fell, while the dying campfires barely lit the surroundings. Meanwhile, over a hundred miles away in the Capital, the Palace glowed brightly as night began.

In Yongle Palace, Emperor Jiang Qiqian finished his evening meal and chatted briefly with Consort Ning Shanru before leaving for the imperial study.

Only after the imperial carriage departed Yongle Palace did Ning Shanru see her son, Jiang Qiqian’s seventh son, Jiang Ziye, who arrived late.

Jiang Ziye was the youngest at thirteen, with rosy lips, pearly teeth, and a face as fine as jade—truly charming.

But Ning Shanru frowned as he entered. "I sent for you early. Why are you only back now? Your father finished his meal and went to the imperial study."

"I had just finished archery practice and was sweaty. I had to wash up first to not offend you and Father." Jiang Ziye, ignoring his mother’s stern look, sat down grinning. He grabbed the chopsticks in front of Ning Shanru and ate a piece of cold cherry meat. "I’m starving. Mother’s cherry meat is the best."

"Don’t talk nonsense. Children shouldn’t mention death. I used those!" Ning Shanru snatched the chopsticks back and told a maid, "Ask the kitchen to bring more hot food—another serving of cherry meat and sugared pancakes."

"All of you, leave," Jiang Ziye dismissed the palace staff, then glanced at his sister who sat silently like a statue. In the end, he didn’t send her away.

"Mother, why fear what you’ve used? Didn’t you give birth to me?" Jiang Ziye scooted closer. "Mother, Father said he was going to the study, but I saw his carriage head east. Could he be visiting the one in the Cold Palace? After all, she’s pregnant again now. Father always treasured her, so they must handle her gently."

"Don’t gossip about your father," Ning Shanru tapped his hand lightly, whispering. "You know why he treated them well all these years. Now that Jiang Ruilin—or Jiang Wu—is exposed early, the one in the Cold Palace is useless to your father. But she carries a royal child, so your father is merciful. Otherwise, she’d be on the road with her daughter."

Jiang Ziye gave a cold laugh, oddly harsh for his age. "Father is so kind. Jiang Wu and Second Brother were born just to please Grandfather. Fourth, Fifth, and Sixth Brothers were decoys to distract from your pregnancy. I was supposed to be his last child, yet here comes another. He said the Empress would have no more children, that she and Jiang Wu were just shields. Only you believe him."

Ning Shanru, ever graceful, was left speechless by her son’s words. Hidden doubts resurfaced, clouding her gentle face with sadness.

But at this point in her life, she had no choice but to believe.

"Ziye, no matter how many children your father has, you and Yuheng are his favorites. We’ve hidden nothing from you all these years. Everything he does is to pass the throne to you safely." Ning Shanru placed a hand on her son’s and daughter’s hands, turning to the silent Jiang Yuheng. "Yuheng, your father is the Emperor, and your brother will be too. You’ll be the royal family’s most cherished princess."

"The most cherished princess should’ve been the former Crown Prince, the real eldest Jiang Wu. For years, treasures flowed to Kunning Palace, while Yongle Palace never saw such luxury. The Empress and Jiang Wu got fine things you and we siblings never laid eyes on, Mother." Jiang Ziye kicked Jiang Yuheng under the table, making her pull back her hand.

Ning Shanru wondered why her son kept bringing up painful topics. For the past two years, he’d grown rebellious, poking at her sore spots, while her once-affectionate daughter turned quiet.

"You saw them get rewards, but not…" Ning Shanru lowered her voice. "…not how Noble Consort Han fought the Empress daily, or how Jiang Wu nearly died from poison several times. When you were young, I couldn’t tell you everything. Before your father became Emperor, I was his first pregnant consort, but I lost the child by three months. When your third brother was born, Jiang Wu and Second Prince were already two, but he didn’t live to two. If not for your father quickly adding three more princes, I might not have protected Yuheng and you. Thanks to the Empress and Han Yu’s constant battles, we had peace in Yongle Palace. Besides…"

Ning Shanru paused, not finishing.

"Besides what?" Jiang Yuheng, who’d been silent as air, suddenly spoke.

Ning Shanru looked at her daughter, pity in her eyes. "Besides, I doubt Jiang Wu ever saw those rewards as gifts."

When the Crown Prince was young, Ning Shanru saw the Emperor bestow gifts. That child, showered with gold, jewels, rare paintings, and delicacies, likely felt them as burdens, not blessings.

Knowing the truth since the Crown Prince’s birth, Ning Shanru pitied the boy. But she had her own children to protect, so she could only offer silent apologies.

Jiang Ziye didn’t care what Ning Shanru thought or how Jiang Wu felt about past rewards. He felt no sympathy.

His focus was elsewhere.

"Mother is kind too. If not for you and us, how could they have stayed powerful for over ten years?" Jiang Ziye eyed the messy table. "They had power, wealth, and Father’s love. He claims he loves us most, yet visits us only a few times a month, while he spends half the month or more at Kunning Palace. After ten years of pretending, can he really feel nothing for them?"

Jiang Ziye leaned close to Ning Shanru. "Mother, did you ask the kitchen to make fish balls for Snowball today?"

Snowball, the cat raised by Jiang Yuheng, eyed Jiang Ziye warily when mentioned, but he didn’t even glance at her.

“Snowball hadn’t been eating well these days, so I asked them to prepare some fish balls. Why do you ask?” Ning Shanru was puzzled by Jiang Ziye’s inquiry.

“Mother, do you recall what you said over a year ago when Sister wanted to bring a cat home from the cattery?” Jiang Ziye didn’t wait for Ning Shanru to answer, “You claimed cats meowed too loudly, shed fur easily, and if Sister brought one back, she must keep it in her own courtyard to avoid disturbing you.”

Without touching on painful topics, Ning Shanru’s expression brightened, and she laughed, “Yes, I did say that. But Snowball is so well-behaved and soft—holding her melts your heart, and you stop caring about the shedding. Now, cat fur sticks everywhere here. Last time, your father joked that if he sneaked over, he’d have to bathe and change clothes, or others would spot the fur and know he’d visited Yongle Palace.”

Ning Shanru spoke cheerfully, unaware of her son’s shifting expression.

Jiang Yuheng saw this and vowed silently to guard Snowball closely, so the crazed menace wouldn’t harm her.

Though nothing Ning Shanru said pleased Jiang Ziye, he listened patiently before smiling and concluding, “Mother, this is what time does: in a year and a half, you went from disliking Snowball to adoring her. So in eighteen years, Father’s feelings for the Empress and Jiang Wu must be stronger than for a mere cat.”

Jiang Ziye’s words weren’t what Ning Shanru wanted to hear, but they made sense.

“Yeer, has someone been putting ideas in your head?” Ning Shanru clasped her son’s hands, “It sounds like you misunderstand your father. The Empress is in the Cold Palace, Jiang Wu is exiled to the Northern lands, and the Empress’s unborn child is much younger than you. They pose no threat now.”

Ning Shanru tightened her grip, “The only hiccup is the Second Prince suddenly courting Yong’an Bo’s daughter and exposing Jiang Wu’s affair before your father’s plan. But as your father said, before destruction comes madness. He played along with the Second Prince’s handling of Jiang Wu, sparking rumors of the Second Prince’s cruelty and lack of brotherly love. In five years, when you’re grown, your father will place the throne in your hands as planned.”

“Then you’ll roam the world together, enjoying its beauty?” Jiang Ziye turned serious and pulled his hands back, “Mother, if that day comes, will you really leave with him, abandoning me alone in the Palace?”

“Silly child, why keep asking?” Ning Shanru chuckled, “You’ll be the Emperor then, and the whole Palace will be yours.”

This time, her smile held real warmth.

Yes, escaping the devouring Palace was her dream. But Jiang Qiqian aimed to be both a good husband and a good Emperor, so they had to secure the throne for their son first.

To appease the Han army in the Northern lands and balance the court, they’d sacrificed much. They hoped the Second Prince, thinking Jiang Wu gone made him closest to the throne, would grow wilder, speeding the plan. The Han army was no issue; the Second Prince’s actions had stained his name.

“The Second Prince always rivaled the Crown Prince. Noble Consort Han hated your father’s favoritism toward the Empress and Crown Prince. So when he got dirt on Jiang Wu, he went mad, humiliating her and even proposing a forced marriage. That sealed his loss. We explained the Crown Prince’s situation early to you and Yuheng to prevent jealousy.” Ning Shanru patted her son, “Yeer, when you rule, if Jiang Wu lives, summon him back to the capital and confine him somewhere.”

Jiang Ziye seemed deaf to this, clinging to his question, “When I’m Emperor, will you leave with Father? Can’t you stay? Let him take others—the Empress or Noble Consort Han. I only have you.”

“Foolish boy, still talking nonsense at thirteen,” Ning Shanru pinched his cheek, “Your father’s worked hard for that day; I’ll go with him. But we’ll visit you, bringing local treats from our travels. You love collecting them—I’ll send big parcels from every stop.”

Jiang Yuheng drew her feet close to her chair, watching the mother and son sit side by side—one speaking sweetly with hidden malice, the other soothingly missing the point.

Should she urge Mother to stay? She feared the little tyrant would kill their father upon becoming Emperor.

No…

Why meddle? She’d marry off quickly and leave them to it.

After all, no one believed her.

Like two years ago.

That eleven-year-old menace slipped into her room at night, pressed a cold knife to her face, and warned her to stop clinging to Mother. Back then, she tearfully confided in Mother.

What did Mother say?

Ha, not to read too many storybooks by day and have messy dreams at night.

She didn’t question the menace, just told her not to scare her brother with odd tales.

Fine, what a child he was.

Jiang Yuheng lowered her eyes, resolving that next time Father joked about matchmaking, she’d seize the chance.

Those who love find no love; killers are often killed.

The world is tangled and complex.

Eighteen years, or perhaps even longer, of grudges and enmities had accumulated in the Imperial City, far beyond what Jiang Wu could grasp from his time at the Mountain Spirit Temple outside Fushan County—merely one piece of a larger scheme.

He recognized the flush on Du Yinsui’s face as anger, not shyness—a rare insight.

“Sorry, I only worried you might be hungry,” Jiang Wu apologized swiftly, then paused before answering her earlier question. “I’m fine. I won’t have diarrhea.”

Du Yinsui: “???”

Confusion replaced her irritation, her expression clearly asking, *What are you talking about?*

Jiang Wu hesitated, then murmured, “Didn’t you… just ask if my stomach felt all right after eating so much rich food?”

*She remembers every useless thing I mutter!*

*Why not remember what actually matters?*

Du Yinsui pressed her temples, forcing her voice calm despite gritted teeth. “I meant—after what Teacher Qin Chongli discussed with you earlier—are you all right?”

Jiang Wu: “……”

The silence stretched so long that Du Yinsui thought it was his only reply—until he finally spoke.

“I’m quite all right.” He emphasized, “Truly.”

“???” *That sounds worse.* Du Yinsui softened her tone. “Did you… understand Teacher Qin’s meaning?”

*I should drag Qin Chongli back here. His hints were too vague—the boy clearly missed the point!*

Jiang Wu smiled faintly at her cautiousness. “I understood. Teacher meant my Imperial Father likely knew I was a girl from the start. So he didn’t teach me statecraft or governance—the lessons due a Crown Prince. Just some… Well, it’s fine. He wasn’t deceived for eighteen years. He probably isn’t too hurt.”

Du Yinsui: “???”

*Now I’m not worried—I’m furious.*

“Are you *sure* you’re fine? He knew all along yet let this drag on eighteen years, then dumped the blame on you!” Du Yinsui couldn’t bear his relieved expression.

Her mind raced with possibilities: *Was Jiang Wu a shield for a favored son? Did the Emperor enjoy watching the Empress panic? Or some twisted game of mutual deceit?* Years reading apocalypse novels let her invent dozens of schemes—all ending with Jiang Wu as the sacrificial pawn.

*And he’s* glad *they weren’t too distressed?*

*My fists are tightening.*

“Miss Du,” Jiang Wu lay on the ground, lifting a hand toward her clenched knuckles near the cart’s edge—close but not touching. “Are you… indignant for me?”

“No. I’m wondering if I punched you twice, you’d fret over my sore hands.” Du Yinsui rolled her eyes and turned away.

Now one lay on the cart, one below—facing opposite directions.

“Miss Du… My Imperial Father treated me kindly. Whatever his motives, those years… were good. Knowing the truth lifts my guilt—like a pardon.” Jiang Wu paused, surprised at his own candor.

His low, gentle voice dissolved Du Yinsui’s frustration—even sparked self-reproach.

Just as she turned to reply, Jiang Wu spoke again from beneath the cart.

“Miss Du… Do you think me useless? Eighteen years learning only kindness and ritual. My painting and calligraphy serve no purpose now. My martial training barely began—I’m just stronger, yet lose in two moves to real fighters. I misjudge everyone around me… only excelling at dragging others down.” His laugh turned bitter. “I really am quite…”

“Jiang Wu.” Du Yinsui hung her head over the cart’s edge, cutting him off. “Ever heard of the wolf boy?”

He blinked. “What?”

“A couple abandoned their newborn son in the mountains. But a mother wolf raising cubs found him. Instead of eating him, she took him to her den and raised him with her own.” She invented details freely. “Years later, humans found him at eight. He walked on all fours. Couldn’t speak—only howled. Hair covered his body; his nails were claws. He slept by day, hunted with the pack by night. Ate raw meat. Feared fire and water…”

Du Yinsui paused, letting him absorb it.

Before Jiang Wu responded, a muffled voice rose from the Qin family: “He—mmph!”

*So none of you were asleep…*

“When people brought the wolf boy back, no one blamed him for crawling or howling. No one called him useless for eating raw meat or fearing water.” She met Jiang Wu’s gaze. “No one is born knowing how to walk or speak. A baby is a blank page. Raised by wolves, he became a wolf. That wasn’t his failure—it was survival. He did *well* with what he had.”

Jiang Wu: “……”

*So this is how it feels—having someone’s words pierce your heart.*

*This ache… sharp enough to burst.*

*Stop. This kindness… is too much.*

He tried to speak, but no sound came.

Du Yinsui’s conclusion arrived, deliberate and firm.

“Jiang Wu, you can’t carry every burden. They taught you mercy, forced guilt upon you—so you blame only yourself. But this isn’t weakness. In that prison, under their control… you grew into a good person. That’s remarkable.” Her voice softened. “Now you’re free. You can learn anew…”

“That wolf boy…” Jiang Wu turned away, tucking deeper under the cart where none could see his eyes grow wet. “What became of him?”

“He lived among humans. Learned to walk and speak. Learned… everything.” She fumbled slightly. “He joined their world. My point is—leaving one life behind means…”

“Will you teach me?”

His voice drifted from the shadows.

Du Yinsui peered down, seeing only his back. “Teach what?”

“Teach me resentment… Teach me hatred…” Jiang Wu stared at the cart’s splintered wood.

*Or teach me love…*