Chapter 3: Breaking the Appointment

When old friends met, Xiao Ji and Xie Linyuan exchanged a few polite words before Xiao Ji drew his sword, challenging Xie Linyuan to a bout in the training ground.

One was a young, accomplished general; the other, the regent prince whose martial skill was unmatched. When they fought, not a single strike was held back.

Jiang Chuyue stood anxiously outside the grounds.

Xie Linyuan’s blows were fierce—more than once the edge of his blade grazed Xiao Ji’s sleeve, as if he meant to run him through right there.

Her heart leapt with fear at every exchange.

After nearly half an hour, they finally stopped.

Xiao Ji’s sleeve had been sliced away, and there was a small cut on his left palm.

A little injury in sparring was nothing unusual, but Jiang Chuyue’s heart ached for him.

Her eyes flashed with anger as she stole a glare at Xie Linyuan. He was cleaning his sword, but when he lifted his dark eyes, he caught her wistful look.

Their gazes almost met before she quickly dropped her lashes.

From the lakeside came the sound of elegant ceremonial music—the welcome banquet was about to begin.

Jiang Chuyue went to the open-air banquet hall by the water. Well-dressed noble ladies and young lords were already taking their seats.

The delicacies flowed like a river; the men’s tables and women’s tables faced each other.

Jiang Chuyue sat properly, sipping fruit wine slowly, but her gaze kept drifting across to Xiao Ji.

Today he wore a crow-blue brocade robe with silver-trimmed cuffs. Years of martial training had given him a posture straight as a pine. Among the refined young nobles of the capital, he stood out sharply.

She didn’t realize that while she was secretly watching Xiao Ji, she herself had become the focus of admiration from the young men across the way.

Spring banquets among the elite often became prime occasions for unmarried men and women to size each other up.

Jiang Chuyue rarely appeared in public. Beautiful without knowing it, and today carefully dressed, she was more eye-catching than the pink peach blossoms by the lake.

The regent prince’s steward approached with a smile and spoke loudly:
“Ladies, His Highness says the spring wind by the lake is strong, and it is easy to catch a chill. He has specially prepared wind-shielding veiled hats for you all.”

At his signal, servants brought out white veiled hats one by one.

No one dared defy the regent prince—not even the current emperor ignored his will.

Jiang Chuyue accepted her hat and glanced toward the main seat where Xie Linyuan sat, sipping from a silver cup. In the sunlight, his black-and-gold python robe gleamed, like the King of Hell surveying the living from the underworld.

Intimidating to the extreme.

She didn’t know why he wanted the women to wear veils.

Pouting inwardly, she put the white hat on; the thin gauze hid her face, and she could no longer see Xiao Ji—nor could anyone else see her delicate features.

After several rounds of wine, Xie Linyuan rose and left. The guests gradually dispersed, going to enjoy spring on the lake in painted boats, reciting poetry and talking of verse.

Her maid Baozhu draped a cloak over her shoulders and whispered, “Miss, I see dark clouds on the horizon—it may rain today. Should we return to the general’s manor first?”

Jiang Chuyue pulled her cloak closer but didn’t rush to go. “I’ll wait for my brother.”

Just then, Xiao Ji strode over.

He seemed in good spirits and said warmly, “Little Yue, wait for me in the pavilion in the middle of the lake. Don’t wander. I have something to give you later.”

She smiled radiantly. “Alright.”

Xiao Ji left.

She touched the corners of her lips and felt the curve of her own bright smile.

The pavilion was empty. Jiang Chuyue sat on the stone bench, gazing out over the rippling lake. Boats swayed gently, and the laughter of young men and women floated over the water.

Time passed. A painted boat docked, but the dark clouds had crept closer, and raindrops began to fall.

She raised a hand to catch them, frowning slightly. “Baozhu, go to the shore and see if my brother is still there.”

Baozhu hurried off but did not return.

The rain grew heavier.

From an upper floor by the lake, Xie Linyuan stood looking down at the pale-green figure in the pavilion.

“Your Highness, the rain will soon pour down. Shall I invite Miss Jiang to take shelter?” the steward asked.

Xie Linyuan said coldly, “A delicate flower only learns the chill of the wind and rain after enduring its beating.”

He didn’t move, just an indifferent onlooker.

The spring rain lashed the pavilion, the lake water swelling with the storm.

Jiang Chuyue waited a long time.

But Xiao Ji never came.

In recent years, he often failed to keep his promises.

Darkness crept in. When the rain finally stopped, she stood up stiffly. Her hands and feet were icy, her hair and dress soaked by the slanting rain, making her look like a pitiful, bedraggled waterfowl.

She stumbled forward two steps, then collapsed to the ground, dizzy and weak.

She dreamed of her childhood.

Her parents had died in battle, her elder sister was missing at the frontier, and the Jiang family had fallen apart. Servants swarmed like locusts, grabbing valuables.

At five years old, she hid in a cupboard, stripped of anything precious, shivering in a thin undergarment.

After a long time, the half-closed door opened, and bright light poured in.

It was Xiao Ji.

The young man handed her a warm, soft steamed bun filled with sugar and said gently, “Wait here for me, don’t wander. I’ll be back soon.”

She clutched the fragrant bun and obediently waited.

Xiao Ji returned quickly, bringing her a beautiful new dress. With one hand holding the warm bun and the other holding his hand, she entered the bustling general’s manor in the capital—becoming the honored Second Miss, his “younger sister.”

Whenever life felt bitter, she thought of that bun.

It had been sweet, and its sweetness had lingered for more than ten years.

Jiang Chuyue awoke from the dream.

She was in an unfamiliar side room, the air heavy with bitter herbal medicine, undercut by a faint, cold scent of cedar. The dark-toned chamber was adorned with longbows and spears—it was clearly a man’s bedchamber.

Baozhu’s eyes brimmed with tears as she rushed over. “Miss, you’re finally awake, wuu wuu…”

She cried so hard she could barely speak.

Jiang Chuyue asked, “Where is this?”

Choking back sobs, Baozhu said, “It’s… it’s the regent prince’s lakeside villa. It’s all my fault for losing my way yesterday and not finding you in time.”

She explained that when she’d gone to find Xiao Ji, she learned that Ninth Concubine had suddenly suffered abdominal pain, so Xiao Ji had taken her back to the general’s manor for treatment.

Baozhu had turned back to report to Jiang Chuyue, but the torrential rain made movement impossible. Being unfamiliar with East Lake, she got lost.

In the end, the regent’s steward had found her and taken her to the villa.

Jiang Chuyue murmured, “So Ninth Concubine had a stomachache…”

That was why Xiao Ji had abandoned her.

“Miss, drink some medicine.” Baozhu brought over a warm bowl of decoction.

Jiang Chuyue drank two mouthfuls, and silent tears slid down, darkening the brocade quilt.

Startled, Baozhu asked, “Miss, why are you crying?”

With tears in her eyes, Jiang Chuyue sighed, “The medicine is bitter.”

She wanted a bite of a warm sugar bun to cover the taste, but she hadn’t had one in a long time.

Sugar buns were for children, and she was no longer a child.

Outside, the bead curtain clattered as a tall, shadowy figure approached—Xie Linyuan.

Jiang Chuyue quickly wiped her tears and, with Baozhu’s help, rose to her feet, weakly giving him a formal bow. “Many thanks for saving my life, Your Highness.”

Her dealings with the regent prince had been few, but when meeting a man so famous, the proper courtesies could not be omitted.

Xie Linyuan stood with his hands clasped behind his back, studying her as she bowed.

When her head lowered, her long neck was revealed—white and slender.

Her waist bent slightly—narrow and delicate.