When Jiang Yunshu begged the notorious Nine Thousand-Year-Old Lord to save her life in the hall where imperial concubines were being buried alive, she never imagined that one day she and Xie Lin would lie side by side on a rocking chair, chatting idly about their childhood.
Nor did she expect that she had already crossed paths with Xie Lin on the Drunken Immortal Tower before entering the palace.
Even earlier, when she was just three years old, she had fed Xie Lin sweet cakes.
But on the Drunken Immortal Tower, Xie Lin hadn’t seen her full face.
Jiang Yunshu deliberately picked a fight: "When I was three, I wasn’t wearing a veil. Your Excellency saw my whole face—why didn’t you recognize me?"
Xie Lin laughed in exasperation: "And did Your Ladyship recognize me?"
"Looking at Your Excellency’s face now, could I possibly know what you looked like at three?"
Jiang Yunshu, unable to out-argue him, pinched his chin: "What a sharp tongue you have."
Xie Lin’s gaze dropped to her fingers: "How sharp my tongue is, isn’t Your Ladyship the one who knows best?"
The rocking chair by the window creaked as it swayed.
Winter gave way to spring, and plum blossoms began to bloom in the courtyard, their cold fragrance drifting in through the half-open window.
Despite the fresh air, Jiang Yunshu still felt breathless: "Tomorrow… let’s turn off the heated floor…"
Xie Lin was too preoccupied to answer.
Jiang Yunshu wrapped her arms tightly around Xie Lin’s back, stroking it gently. In the past, it had always been Xie Lin serving her unilaterally, but now she was willing to share the pleasure with him.
Indeed, physical imperfection didn’t mean a complete lack of desire. After Xie Lin stopped being fastidious with her, Jiang Yunshu realized how much he craved embraces, kisses, and skin-to-skin contact.
Her fingers traced the nape of his neck, and the rocking chair swayed even more wildly until, at last, they both let out a long, satisfied sigh.
Lying lazily on the chair, Jiang Yunshu kept her eyes closed, her voice just as languid.
Her mind drifted back to Xie Lin’s earlier words, and she asked slowly, "What did Your Excellency look like at three?"
In her imagination, Xie Lin at three must have been an exquisitely delicate little boy.
Xie Lin chuckled softly: "Who remembers what they looked like at three?"
Jiang Yunshu declared proudly: "I do!"
After transmigrating, she remembered every detail of her appearance from childhood. At three, she had been exceptionally pretty!
Xie Lin conceded: "Yes, Your Ladyship was very beautiful at three…"
Later, he often dreamed of Jiang Yunshu at that age, until bloodshed and death gradually blurred the purity of that image in his mind.
Xie Lin murmured, "At three, I probably wasn’t much to look at—skinny and underfed…"
Jiang Yunshu sighed regretfully: "If only three-year-old me had met three-year-old you. I hated overly sweet pastries back then—I’d have let you eat them all for me."
Xie Lin fell silent, closing his eyes to imagine her younger self feeding him the treats she disliked.
The vision intoxicated him. After a long pause, he pointed out the obvious flaw in her words.
"When Your Ladyship was three, I was already grown."
"When I was three, Your Ladyship hadn’t even been born yet…" His voice was slightly hoarse.
Jiang Yunshu knew this, of course. She thought to herself—when Xie Lin was three, she was still living a carefree modern life!
But if she could transmigrate, what was impossible?
Softly, she said, "I was just imagining it…"
Xie Lin didn’t dare dwell on it further. The fantasy was too beautiful to believe.
Noticing his expression, Jiang Yunshu changed the subject: "What if Jiang Zhaohua hadn’t forced me to take her place in the palace? What would Your Excellency have done?"
She recalled Jiang Zhaohua’s dying words. Clearly, Jiang Zhaohua had been reborn, and Jiang Yunshu had pieced together her sister’s past life—and her own.
Xie Lin pondered the question seriously before answering, "If I ever saw you again, I would have recognized you."
"But if I never did…" He frowned. "I might have mistaken Jiang Zhaohua for you. Your eyes are shaped exactly alike."
Jiang Yunshu stared into his eyes: "Would Your Excellency have fallen for Jiang Zhaohua, then?"
Xie Lin didn’t hesitate: "Never."
"Her eyes may resemble yours in shape, but their spirit is entirely different."
He added, "I’d have thought I imagined our meeting on the Drunken Immortal Tower and avoided Jiang Zhaohua entirely, leaving her as a palace maid."
Jiang Yunshu shook her head, amused. In both lifetimes, Xie Lin would have made the same choice.
But in that case, she would have missed him entirely.
With a soft sigh, she murmured, "I’m glad I met Your Excellency…"
The thought of that alternate reality left a hollow ache in Xie Lin’s chest, as if icy winds howled through it. He pulled Jiang Yunshu tightly against him, as though only her presence could fill the void, and pressed his lips to hers, still flushed from their earlier passion.
Jiang Yunshu’s muffled protest escaped between kisses: "Again…? We’ve already… had enough tonight…"
Xie Lin’s voice was muffled against her skin: "Your Ladyship saved my life with a single cake. It’s only right that I repay you properly."
