Chapter 9 – Dual Rebirth (9)

—

The people in the palace had once marveled at her beauty and pitied her untimely death.

But while they romanticized the tragic love story, they forgot there was a child who had lost his entire world.

“I used to blame her too,” Lu Zheng said softly, eyes lowered. “I hated Father, and I didn’t understand her. As a child, I always wondered why she didn’t take me with her when she left.”

“She was too fragile and pinned everything on love.”

Lu Zheng paused.

Come to think of it…
Wasn’t he the same now?

No, no.
He wasn’t like her.
Lu Zheng rubbed the top of Jiang Jiang’s head roughly. How could his father ever compare to Jiang Jiang?

Then he suddenly smiled. “But I don’t blame her anymore.”
Because if he were ever abandoned by Jiang Jiang, he would probably do the same.

If love couldn’t make you remember me forever, then let it be my blood, my downfall, that becomes unforgettable.

“If she had taken me with her back then, I wouldn’t have met you.”

Jiang Jiang said, “Actually, you already let go. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have refused your father’s request today.”

Lu Zheng gave a hum of agreement. “She just wasn’t strong enough, and I have no right to demand she suffer for my sake. Besides, I didn’t want him to get what he wanted.”

To only grieve after failing to cherish someone in life—
How disgusting.

As for why his father claimed to have taken his own life—

Lu Zheng sneered. Probably because he saw Jiang Jiang was pregnant and remembered the love he once had with Lu Zheng’s mother.

What a dramatic man.

—

After the former emperor’s funeral, Lu Zheng ascended the throne.

He held the coronation and Jiang Jiang’s crowning ceremony on the same day.

All the glory of his future would be shared with her.

When Lu Zheng placed the phoenix crown on her head, he suddenly took her hand and placed the imperial seal in her palm.
“From now on, the rivers and mountains are my betrothal gift, and the sun and moon shall bear witness.”

Naturally, this indulgent act drew waves of petitions during court.

The ministers repeated the same concerns: the empress should not interfere in politics, and His Majesty must expand the harem.

But Lu Zheng would never compromise on this.

If Jiang Jiang wanted, she could have the throne itself.
Why would he need other women?

Were they all jealous of his empress?

He used the mourning period for the late emperor as an excuse to refuse.
Which led to muttering among the court:
If you’re so filial, why did you move your father’s tomb so far away?

—

When life settled into peace again, Lu Zheng voluntarily told Jiang Jiang about his past life.

He’d once thought that secret would go with him to the grave.

But heaven favored him. In this life, Jiang Jiang came into his world.

“I used to really hate your sister and Lu Mingxuan.”

Lu Zheng still preferred to use “I” when speaking to Jiang Jiang. He didn’t want any emotional distance between them.

Jiang Jiang nodded, showing she understood.

“But he’s dead now.”
Lu Zheng had made sure he died the same way Lu Zheng had in their previous life—though that part he chose not to tell her.

“As for your sister…” Lu Zheng looked a little speechless. “…I used to think she was both dumb and wicked, but it turns out she’s just plain dumb.”

After overhearing Lu Mingxuan, she had even snuck into the study to steal his documents.

Even Jiang Su couldn’t hold it in. He never thought his daughter’s greatest talent lay in theft.

But Lu Zheng didn’t let it go just because of that. Regardless of her intent, her actions had harmed him. He wasn’t some merciful saint.

“I sent someone to hunt her down. I didn’t order them to kill her, but I didn’t stop your father from saving her either.”
Lu Zheng’s tone turned cold. He was still apprehensive, worried Jiang Jiang would think him cruel. “If I never see her again, I’ll consider her dead.”

It was a promise he’d made to Jiang Su, and something he did for Jiang Jiang.

In his heart, Jiang Jiang was far more important than himself.

Because her message had protected Jiang Jiang, he considered the debt repaid.

Jiang Jiang didn’t say much. She simply took his cool hand and said, “You must’ve been in a lot of pain. I’m not in a position to judge your choices.”

This was a matter of personal vendetta. She had no right to intervene.

“But as your wife, I hope you can let go.”

“Mm.” Lu Zheng looked at her, the shadows in his eyes far lighter than when they’d first met. “That past life… just a nightmare. I’ve let go.”

When he’d first returned from the dead, he imagined what vengeance would feel like.
Maybe indulgent, maybe freeing.

But he never imagined it would end like this—
Holding his soft, gentle wife and pouring everything out.

In this moment of serenity, what he felt was warmth.
Her understanding.
And…
A future to look forward to.

He had never envisioned what life would be like after revenge.
But now he had hope. A future.

—

As the night watch drums struck the third beat, spring thunder boomed over the Forbidden City.

Lu Zheng was still reviewing memorials.

“Your Majesty!” Ji Jin burst in, stumbling over his own feet. “The Empress—she’s in labor!”

The vermilion brush slipped from Lu Zheng’s hand, splattering red across the page.

He ran to the delivery chamber.

“Your Majesty! You can’t enter!” The midwives tried to stop him.

Everyone knew the emperor and empress were deeply in love, but ancestral rules were not to be broken.

But with no elder relatives in the palace, no one dared stop him.

As he barged in, Jiang Jiang’s unfocused gaze suddenly sharpened. She even found strength to glare at him, “Nonsense…”

When the next wave of pain hit, she bit down hard on his hand.

The taste of blood spread in her mouth as tears fell.
This fool had given her the softest part of his palm to bite.

“Don’t be afraid, Jiang Jiang.”
Lu Zheng didn’t even flinch, still comforting her.
“I’m here. You’ll be okay.”

He gave the imperial physician a look.
If it came to a choice—save the mother.

He had no idea how long he stood in that room, watching every movement like a hawk, afraid an enemy might strike at this moment.

When a baby’s cry finally pierced the air and the doctor announced both mother and child were safe, Lu Zheng finally breathed.

Thank heavens.
She’s safe.

Jiang Jiang was unconscious from exhaustion. Lu Zheng stared at her face, checking again and again that she was still with him.

Perhaps “gentle” wasn’t the right word for the way he looked at her.
It was so intense, one of the midwives actually shivered.

That mix of obsession and tenderness—
It was love.

One imperial doctor came in nervously to treat the emperor’s wound. “Your Majesty, this might scar…”

Fearing Lu Zheng’s wrath, he quickly added, “But if it heals well, it should barely show.”

Lu Zheng looked down at the crescent-shaped bite mark and smiled.

The doctor blinked. Was the emperor… laughing? Had he gone mad?

“No need,” Lu Zheng said. “I want it to stay.”

He had too many wounds inflicted by others.
This one—
Was left by Jiang Jiang.

A trace of madness flickered in his eyes.
He cherished everything Jiang Jiang gave him.

—

When Jiang Jiang woke up and saw him treating the scar like a treasure, she nearly laughed in frustration.

She ordered the palace maids to fetch scar cream and personally applied it for him.
Smiling wryly, she said, “We’re not going to be apart. You don’t need to hurt yourself just to have a keepsake.”

Lu Zheng behaved like a docile puppy in front of her.
He called for the newborn child, voice soft and warm.
“Jiang Jiang, look, this is our child.”

“The little prince is very obedient,” the maids chimed in. “Doesn’t cry or fuss, and looks just like Her Majesty.”

Lu Zheng loved hearing those compliments and always rewarded them generously.

This was their child.
Holding him in his arms made his soul tremble.

Lu Zheng didn’t like children.
But because this was Jiang Jiang’s child—he would love him.

Jiang Jiang took the baby from the midwife and looked him over.
She couldn’t quite tell who he resembled, but he was adorable, like a little snow sculpture.

She gently stroked his cheek and suddenly said, “Let’s call him Sui’an (岁安) for his nickname.”

Lu Zheng’s eyes flickered. “Sui sui ping’an?”

“Mm.” Jiang Jiang smiled, placing the baby in his arms. “May he live in peace, and may…”
She looked into Lu Zheng’s eyes,
“…my Ah Zheng live in lasting joy.”

Lu Zheng’s throat tightened.
He lowered his head, pressing his brow to the baby’s swaddling cloth.
“Then how about Lu Yun (陆昀) for his formal name?”

He drew a tiny sun on the baby’s brow.
“In The Songs of Chu, ‘Yun’ means sunlight. The moment he was born…”
His voice choked up.
“…was the moment dawn broke.”

When he was at his most terrified, the sun rose—and both mother and child were safe.

Lu Zheng never thought his dark, filthy life would ever have anything to do with sunlight.

But this child was different.
He didn’t know how to be a good father, but he would learn.

They would be a perfect family.

Sunlight broke through the clouds, bathing all three of them in golden light.

An old maid who had served Lu Zheng since he was a child quietly wiped away her tears—
After so many years, warmth had finally returned to this cold palace.

Her lady could now rest in peace.

—

Jiang Yun was spared in the pursuit thanks to Jiang Su.

Though they called it a pursuit, it seemed more like a warning—they clearly only wanted her out of the capital, not dead.

Jiang Yun didn’t know who had arranged it.
She assumed it was remnants of Prince An’s faction.

She looked at her aged father and wanted nothing more than to crawl into his arms and cry like when she was little.

Why did she lose all her glory even after being reborn?

Why did her sister marry Lu Zheng and become the empress?

If only she’d stayed by his side in the last life…

No—there were no “if only”s in this kind of thing.
The wrong person would never bring a right outcome.

She looked at her father and whispered, “Father…”

But Jiang Su’s gaze was complicated. He no longer looked at her with the indulgence of the past.
There was pain and confusion in his eyes.

Jiang Yun froze.
A sense of dread crept in.

“…I know what you did in your past life.”

Her body turned cold. “I… I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

Jiang Su ignored her pretense. He untied the money pouch at his waist and pressed it into her hand. His voice was weary.

“This was my fault. I shouldn’t have forced you into marriage, shouldn’t have neglected your upbringing. It’s my fault.
Take the money and go. Get as far as you can.”

He’d prepared enough money for her to live peacefully for the rest of her life and arranged for people to protect her along the way.

Jiang Yun shook her head desperately.

She knew her father had found out. She didn’t know who had told him, but when the buried secret was exposed—
Her first emotion was fear.
Then… relief.

She choked out, “I should be the one apologizing, Father. I was foolish and got tricked by Lu Mingxuan. I brought disaster to our family…
But I can change. Don’t send me away.”

Jiang Su looked at the daughter he had once spoiled, no matter the mistakes.
But perhaps that’s exactly why fate decided to teach them a lesson.

At first, he hadn’t believed it when the emperor told him.
But everything about Jiang Yun’s behavior since her “awakening” confirmed it.

He had been angry, resentful.
Even considered cutting her off.

But after the emperor explained his plan, Jiang Su had chosen to help.

The journey had been rough, but he made it.

And during that journey, he realized—
This wasn’t just his daughter’s fault. He bore responsibility too.
He couldn’t pretend innocence just because he was a victim.

But hearts are made of flesh.
No matter how much pain this daughter caused in the past, it couldn’t be erased by logic.

In the end, Jiang Yun left with the money.

The pain of losing luxury and status couldn’t compare to the pain of this farewell.

Jiang Su looked at the land beneath his feet. This was the border of the capital.

He never imagined he’d one day see his daughter off here.

As her figure grew smaller in the distance, he turned away and finally let his tears fall.

From now on, our paths will remain silent.
Spring mountains like ink, grass like mist.

—

“Your Majesty,” Ji Jin, now disguised as a shadow guard, reported the entire conversation.
“Minister Jiang even gave her a deed to a manor in Lingnan.”

He didn’t know about the rebirths or the hidden ties—he just felt something was off about the emperor’s mood.

Lu Zheng paused his writing, then said quietly,
“Let him be. He must be feeling awful right now.”

And he had decided too—
To leave the past behind.
To treat the day he met Jiang Jiang as the day he was truly reborn.

—

As dusk fell, Lu Zheng crept into the bedchamber.

Only one candle remained on the gilded stand, its flame low and warm.

Jiang Jiang was asleep, leaning on the beauty couch.
Sui’an was nestled in her arms, tiny hand grasping a lock of her hair.

Lu Zheng held his breath. Even the rustling of his robes was silent.

He slowly crouched down, holding his finger just above Jiang Jiang’s nose to feel her breath.

So warm, so alive—
More precious than any treasure.

“Mm…” Sui’an stirred in his sleep, kicking the blanket aside.

Lu Zheng hurriedly tucked it back in, only to feel the baby’s tiny fingers grasp his thumb—right over the crescent-shaped scar.

The candle crackled.
Lu Zheng’s eyes suddenly welled with tears.

He bent over and wrapped his wife and child in his arms.

His lips gently brushed the top of Jiang Jiang’s hair.

“I’m home…”
The words melted into the quiet night.
“…I’m home.”

—

—End of Dual Rebirth—
Next chapter is a mini extra where Lu Zheng from the past life crosses into this one (actually a version of him without memories of the rebirth). Don’t miss it! (It’s quite exciting, heehee.)

While writing this, I struggled with what ending to give Jiang Yun.
I was honestly scared readers would hate me (hides behind fingers)…
But in the end, I chose this one.