Jiang Yunshu thought that aside from waiting for Xie Lin to rescue her, she really had no other options.
Earlier, she had deliberately provoked Duan Jinxing.
When angered, people tend to reveal more than they intend.
Duan Jinxing probably believed he hadn’t let anything slip, but Jiang Yunshu had already gleaned plenty.
First, Duan Jinxing kept insisting that once the Prince of Yanbei and Xie Lin finished their war, he would send her back to the capital.
That was the biggest lie.
When someone lies, the more they try to conceal something, the more they repeat it.
No, Duan Jinxing would never send her back to the capital once things settled. The four bandits had told the truth—he planned to hand her over to the Prince of Yanbei, who would bind her and take her to the battlefield.
Today, she had pushed Duan Jinxing to the brink of fury, yet despite his rage, he hadn’t harmed her.
Not because he was some noble gentleman… but because she was meant as an offering to the Prince of Yanbei.
Duan Jinxing couldn’t—and didn’t dare—lay a finger on her.
As for why he hadn’t delivered her directly to the Prince of Yanbei, instead keeping her in this remote mountain cabin for days…
The dark intentions behind it were obvious without much thought.
Did Duan Jinxing actually have an interest in her?
Jiang Yunshu couldn’t fathom where such interest came from.
She had spent the day hurling insults at him, both to provoke him and to quash any lingering attraction.
Judging by tonight’s outcome, her strategy had worked—for now. But whether it would hold, she had no confidence.
Unable to sleep, Jiang Yunshu lay in bed cursing Jiang Zhaohua.
Jiang Zhaohua, ah, Jiang Zhaohua, didn’t you have some golden advantage? And this is the trash you picked with it?
The only decent thing Duan Jinxing had done was provide her with charcoal and warm bedding. Otherwise, in this drafty mountain shack during a bitter snowstorm, she’d have frozen to death long before reaching the battlefield.
She wondered—would the Prince of Yanbei still find her useful if her corpse was stiff with cold?
The thought made her laugh suddenly.
For some reason, she believed Xie Lin would come for her whether she was alive or dead.
Xie Lin was a madman.
Rolling onto her side, Jiang Yunshu gazed out the window at the endless white. Snow and moonlight blended into a cold, pale glow that spilled into the room.
She realized—after spending so much time with Xie Lin, his madness had rubbed off on her.
Even if it was Xie Lin’s lifeless body, useless as it might be, she’d move heaven and earth to claim it.
In the days that followed, Duan Jinxing occasionally visited, spouting the same hollow promises as before.
Other times, he vanished for days, likely occupied with other matters.
Jiang Yunshu guessed he must have gained the Prince of Yanbei’s favor.
The mountain snow fell relentlessly—two days on, two days off—each new storm layering over the last before the previous could melt.
The drifts grew deeper, making the ascent nearly impossible.
Trapped in the cabin, Jiang Yunshu ran out of vegetables and preserved meats, left with only rice and flour to keep starvation at bay.
Duan Jinxing hadn’t come for days either. She assumed even he didn’t want to trek up in such weather.
Eating bland meals, she longed for the delicacies of Weiyang Palace.
Lying on the hard bed, she missed its plush cushions and Xie Lin, who radiated warmth like a furnace…
Each day, she carved a notch into the edge of the table with her nail.
Day one—Xie Lin hadn’t found her.
Day two—still no sign of him.
Day three…
Between the awful food and the unbearable bed, she cursed the Prince of Yanbei, Duan Jinxing, Jiang Zhaohua…
Perhaps her curses worked, because days later, when Duan Jinxing finally returned, Jiang Zhaohua followed.
She had tracked him all the way up the mountain, carried by her guards.
Lately, she’d noticed something off about Duan Jinxing—he hadn’t been home in ages.
This time, when he returned briefly, Jiang Zhaohua feigned indifference but secretly ordered her guards to tail him, determined to uncover whether he’d taken a mistress.
Seeing him head into the mountains, she doubted her theory—who kept a mistress in such a place?
But having come this far, she refused to turn back. She had her guards carry her up, resolved to learn the truth.
When they kicked open the door, Jiang Zhaohu’s eyes locked onto Jiang Yunshu’s.
“Ah—!” she shrieked.
Jiang Yunshu was startled by Jiang Zhaohua's piercing scream. "Sister, you were the one who kicked the door open. Why are you the one screaming?"
Jiang Zhaohua pointed a trembling finger at Jiang Yunshu inside the room and Duan Jinxing, who had arrived not long ago. "You... you... you've been hiding this from me—"
Jiang Yunshu cut her off. "Not an affair. A kidnapping."
"Your beloved husband has been secretly holding captive the half-sister you once tried but failed to kill. I've been kidnapped for over ten days now."
Jiang Zhaohua shrieked, "Ten days?!"
Jiang Yunshu: "......"
Was Jiang Zhaohua selectively deaf?
She strongly suspected Jiang Zhaohua only caught a word or two, like how she used to struggle with English listening comprehension in school.
Jiang Zhaohua looked as if she wanted to tear Jiang Yunshu apart. "You've been like this for over ten days?!"
Jiang Yunshu: "Sister, that’s a dangerous oversimplification."
"If you phrase it like that, who would guess 'like this' refers to 'kidnapping and being kidnapped'?"
But Jiang Zhaohua seemed truly unhinged. Her eyes burned with madness, and she appeared deaf to all reason as she continued screeching in a shrill, grating voice.
"Why? Why did Duan Jinxing marry you and swear eternal devotion, never glancing at another woman, not even keeping a single maidservant by his side?"
"Why did Duan Jinxing marry me, only to share my bed twice in over two years? All he ever gave me were empty sweet words, then played deaf and blind while that old hag tortured me!"
"Why did Duan Jinxing marry you and rise swiftly through the ranks?"
"Why did Duan Jinxing marry me, only to abandon his post as the top scholar and tend horses, making me the laughingstock of noblewomen across the capital?"
"Why... why did the Nine Thousand-Year-Old Lord seize me and take me into the palace, only to glance at me once and never again... leaving me to scrub floors in the Xie Residence's back courtyard?"
"Why... why did the Nine Thousand-Year-Old Lord take you into the palace and place you above all others, showering you with rare treasures and carving half the Marquis's Mansion's land to build you a grand estate?"
The sheer volume of revelations in Jiang Zhaohua's rant left Jiang Yunshu stunned.
What... what was she saying?
When had Duan Jinxing ever married her?
And when had Xie Lin ever abducted Jiang Zhaohua to the Xie Residence?
Jiang Yunshu stared at Jiang Zhaohua in shock before suddenly realizing what her "golden finger" truly was. Jiang Zhaohua's advantage wasn't foreseeing the future—she was reborn!
So, in the lifetime Jiang Zhaohua had lived before, Xie Lin had taken her to the Xie Residence? And she had married Duan Jinxing?
"Ugh—" The thought of being wed to Duan Jinxing in that other life made Jiang Yunshu nearly retch in disgust.
Wait! Jiang Yunshu abruptly seized on the crucial detail. Had Jiang Zhaohua just said "Xie Residence"?
Jiang Zhaohua knew about the Xie Residence!
Now it made sense. Jiang Yunshu had never understood why, if Xie Lin was so certain that barely anyone knew the Xie Residence belonged to him—and those who did were utterly trustworthy—she had still been abducted from there.
Now she knew. Because Jiang Zhaohua, reborn, also knew of the Xie Residence.
In her past life, Jiang Zhaohua had been a lowly servant there!
Everything clicked into place. Jiang Zhaohua had been Duan Jinxing's wife, and Duan Jinxing had pledged himself to the Prince of Yanbei. If Jiang Zhaohua knew, then Duan Jinxing and the Prince of Yanbei knew as well...
Jiang Yunshu exhaled heavily, unsure whom to blame. Perhaps this was simply her fate.
While Jiang Yunshu grasped Jiang Zhaohua's meaning, Duan Jinxing remained utterly lost.
Had Jiang Zhaohua truly lost her mind?
What nonsense about him marrying Jiang Yunshu—though he had dreamed of it countless times, wishing he had wed Jiang Yunshu instead of Jiang Zhaohua.
His gaze swept over Jiang Yunshu. Even after days without proper grooming, her breathtaking beauty still shone through.
No wonder the Nine Thousand-Year-Old Lord was so infatuated. What man could resist such allure?
Then he looked at the deranged Jiang Zhaohua. Her features, once delicate, were now twisted into something grotesque by her frenzy...
Jiang Zhaohua, already teetering on the edge, had compared herself to Jiang Yunshu a thousand times in her mind, refusing yet fearing to admit her inferiority.
The stark contrast in Duan Jinxing's gaze as he looked between them shattered the last remnants of her sanity.
With a scream, Jiang Zhaohua lunged at him, her hands closing around his throat like a vise.
"Where is the chancellor's wife you owed me?"
"Where is the first-rank noble title you promised?"
"Where is your vow of eternal devotion—AAAAAH!"
Duan Jinxing froze momentarily, stunned by her sudden attack. But as her grip tightened, cutting off his breath, he snapped back to reality.
With a violent wrench, he pried her hands away and shoved her back.
"You madwoman! What nonsense are you spouting?"
"What do I owe you? If anything, you owe me a son!"
"You've cuckolded me for so long, made me raise another man's bastard for years..."
"Bang!" Jiang Zhaohua was shoved violently by Duan Jinxing, her head slamming hard against the table.
"Ah—" Jiang Zhaohua let out a piercing scream of agony.
But her cries didn't make Duan Jinxing stop—instead, they ignited the cruelty festering in his heart.
In Duan Jinxing's eyes, Jiang Zhaohua had been impure before their marriage, carrying another man's child when she wed him, then forcing him to raise that bastard... This unbearable humiliation had festered in him for two long years.
He had endured it for too long, and the fury inside him had swelled to the point of madness.
Now that the floodgates had opened, Duan Jinxing couldn't stop.
He gripped Jiang Zhaohua's hair and smashed her head against the table again and again—Bang! Bang! Bang!
A pool of crimson blood spread beneath her...
At first, Jiang Zhaohua still screamed, still struggled...
But soon, her limbs went limp, dangling helplessly. Only her eyes remained fixed on Duan Jinxing.
Her gaze shifted from disbelief to utter despair.
Jiang Zhaohua knew she was about to die—killed by the man who was supposed to become the Prime Minister, her own husband...
No, he would never be Prime Minister now.
How could a wife-murderer ever hold such a title?
It was all a lie. Everything in her past life had been a lie. The high-ranking husband she had stolen was a lie. Her future as a titled noblewoman was a lie...
Only her impending death was real.
With the last of her strength, Jiang Zhaohua turned her head toward Jiang Yunshu and gasped, "Kill him... avenge me!"
Jiang Yunshu cursed inwardly.
Even in death, Jiang Zhaohua was trying to drag her down!
Because of those words, Duan Jinxing—his eyes bloodshot with rage—slowly turned his gaze toward Jiang Yunshu.
Without a second thought, Jiang Yunshu bolted for the door!
Duan Jinxing had clearly lost all reason. He wouldn't stop to consider that she and Jiang Zhaohua were mortal enemies—that she would never seek vengeance for her.
That one sentence had marked Jiang Yunshu for death in his eyes.
Amid the chaos, neither the bandits outside nor the guards expected Jiang Yunshu to suddenly flee. Unprepared, they let her dash past them.
Once outside, Jiang Yunshu immediately sprinted toward the densest part of the forest.
Though winter had stripped the trees of their leaves, the trunks and branches still formed a tangled maze.
The path was treacherous, but Jiang Yunshu had trained in dance for years—her agility far surpassed that of her pursuers.
Through the snow-laden, silver-cloaked woods, she moved like a nimble bird, darting forward, ever forward...
The howling wind whipped past her ears, eerie and unsettling in the mountain forest.
But Jiang Yunshu wasn’t afraid. If anything, she was grateful—the fierce gusts might just save her life.
She grabbed at sturdy branches to pull herself along, lightening her footsteps in the snow as much as possible...
If she ran fast enough, if she could put enough distance between herself and her hunters... the wind would sweep fresh snow over her tracks...
Then, she might survive.
As dusk fell, Jiang Yunshu slumped against a tree trunk, gasping for breath.
She had never known she could run so far—today alone, she had covered more ground than in her entire life.
But with the setting sun came a grim realization: she had escaped her pursuers, but now she was lost.
The cold was just as deadly as any enemy. It, too, could claim her life.
Jiang Yunshu knew she had to keep moving. If she stopped, she would freeze to death in this bitter night.
Yet all her strength had been spent in her desperate flight. Huddled against the tree, she forced herself to shift, to move—but each motion grew weaker...
Finally, her body gave out, and darkness swallowed her.
In that last flicker of consciousness, she thought she saw the faint glow of torches.
Golden, warm light.
A hallucination, surely.
