The medicinal brew was bitter, numbing from the root of the tongue all the way to the chest.
Nan Banruo set down the bowl.
"Clack."
It was a wooden bowl, placed on the wooden table with a muted thud.
Her gaze remained locked with Lin Qingyang's the entire time.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his Adam's apple bobbing repeatedly, over and over.
"Indeed," she slowly repeated his words, "Having a child like you would be worse than having none at all."
He fell silent for a long moment before suddenly letting out a soft laugh.
"Couldn’t you even lie to me?"
He was handsome, usually exuding an air of ambition and domineering control. But now, shrouded in melancholy and self-inflicted sorrow, he looked strikingly refined and moving.
His eyes spoke of heartache, yet his words remained stubborn: "Since when did you forget how to comfort people? This isn’t like you, Nan Banruo."
Nan Banruo lowered her gaze to the wooden bowl in her hands.
Noticing a residue of herbs settled at the bottom, she lifted the bowl again, swirled it, and brought it to her lips, drinking every last drop.
Lin Qingyang watched her movements unblinkingly. After a long pause, his thin lips curled slightly as he asked hoarsely, "Must you be this ruthless?"
Nan Banruo lifted her cold eyes to meet his. "I must."
Her constitution was weak, making conception nearly impossible.
In their past life, Lin Qingyang had spared no effort to nurse her health—night after night of intimacy, every method exhausted—yet she had barely managed to conceive just once.
Even if she hadn’t drunk this bowl of medicine today, pregnancy would have been impossible.
She could have easily fed him the lies he wanted to hear—after all, he did look genuinely heartbroken.
"Lin Qingyang," she said, "I am no longer the person I once was."
He frowned slightly, shaking his head, his eyes clouded with unshakable pain and sorrow.
"If I hadn’t known who you truly were back then…" She paused, then continued softly, "I might have hesitated today, wondering if you had some unspeakable hardship, if there was some hidden truth, if someone else—like the Xie clan of Hexi—was truly responsible for my parents' deaths."
She stared deep into his eyes.
A tear was on the verge of escaping Lin Qingyang’s reddened, restrained gaze.
It stopped abruptly.
His expression didn’t change. He simply stared at her before lifting a finger to brush away the teardrop clinging to his lashes.
"Ah," he chuckled lightly, "You’ve seen through me."
Nan Banruo wasn’t surprised.
Leaning on the table with his elbow, he closed the distance between them.
"Where did I slip up?"
She turned her face away, her gaze drifting past the window lattice to the birds chirping and circling above the bamboo grove.
Hexi and Yanzhou were bound together—if one fell, the other would follow.
If Yanzhou suffered, Hexi would be next.
Though Lin Qingyang’s mother seemed rather dim-witted, her twin brother—the next Lord of Hexi—was anything but.
That man was cunning and battle-hardened, a shrewd strategist who had long been a thorn in Lin Qingyang’s side.
With him around, Hexi would never dare move against Yanzhou.
Lin Qingyang sighed.
With feigned regret, he said, "I wanted to tell you that in our past life, your parents were killed by my foolish mother. She was manipulated—the true mastermind was well-hidden."
Nan Banruo turned back, her eyes settling on him.
His lips, beautifully shaped, parted effortlessly to spin another web of lies: "You claimed you deliberately provoked hatred in the palace, that you poisoned Xuan Heng’s son—if that’s true, then someone must have aided you. Otherwise, where would you have gotten the poison? Banruo, if I’m not mistaken, the person who helped you is the same one who manipulated my mother… and the one who killed your parents."
Nan Banruo pressed her lips together, silent.
He smiled carelessly. "You don’t trust me, so you’d never reveal this person’s identity. In fact, you’d protect them, wouldn’t you?"
Lin Qingyang had a natural gift for swaying hearts.
Word by word, his voice was like a whisper from the underworld, needling at her emotions.
His unspoken implication lingered like a haunting echo—"Do you realize you’re protecting your real enemy? Protecting your real enemy? Protecting your real enemy…?"
Nan Banruo drew a deep breath. "Save your efforts. I won’t tell you."
"Fine." He lowered his dark eyes and stood. "I’ll wash the bowl."
Nan Banruo: "…"
She stared at his retreating figure, her gaze complex.
For someone as ruthless, cunning, and scheming as him, how could he not find it absurd to abruptly say, "I’ll wash the bowl" in the middle of a confrontation?
Lin Qingyang returned after washing the bowl, acting as if nothing had happened. With a smile, he draped an extra snow-fur cloak over Nan Banruo’s shoulders before leading her outside.
"Once, I meant to take you lotus gathering."
Sunlight and rippling reflections shimmered in his dark, fathomless eyes, his emotions unreadable.
Nan Banruo had no memory of such a plan.
"We never went, so of course you don’t remember." He chuckled. "Lotus roots are meant to be brought back when visiting one’s family."
Back then, her entire family had been wiped out—there had been no home to return to, no reason to gather lotuses.
As they walked, he brought her to the lakeshore in front of the estate—the Purple Bamboo Manor stood between mountain and water, with a vast lotus pond just beyond its gates.
"You’re taking me lotus gathering?" Her heart gave an odd leap.
Lotus roots were for homecoming visits. Was he… letting her return?
She held her breath, unease flickering in her chest.
Lin Qingyang stepped onto the wooden boat, one hand gripping the pole to push off the shore while the other reached out to take hers.
"Come."
Nan Banruo didn’t take his hand, stubbornly repeating, "You’re taking me lotus gathering?"
Lin Qingyang let out an amused, drawn-out sigh. "Ye—es!"
Before she could ask again, he added, "You’ll bring them back tomorrow when you return home."
Nan Banruo’s pulse quickened.
Tomorrow… return home?
He leaned forward, grasped her hand, and pulled her onto the narrow boat.
With a push of the pole, the boat swayed away from the shore, gliding toward the heart of the pond.
The lotus leaves hadn’t yet covered the water’s surface.
"Lin Qingyang," Nan Banruo couldn’t help turning to ask, "Are you truly letting me go back to—"
He cut her off with a smirk. "Focus on the lotuses."
Another push of the pole, and the slender boat cut through the dense clusters of lotus stems.
The fragrance of lotus leaves enveloped them, the damp mist clinging to their skin.
The boat rustled as it brushed past leaves and roots.
Lin Qingyang began to sing softly, "In the south we gather lotuses, lotus leaves in lush display. Fish dart ’midst lotus leaves. East they play, west they play, south they play, north they play."
He anchored the boat in a convenient spot, then raised a brow, urging her to pluck one.
Nan Banruo dipped her fingers into the cool, clear water, gritted her teeth, and reached forward. Through the shallow emerald depths, she gripped the thorny stem above a small lotus root. Her skin was delicate, and the rough, prickly surface made her gasp softly.
Hearing Lin Qingyang’s muffled laughter behind her, she scowled and yanked hard on the stem!
After several futile tugs, the root refused to budge—but she nearly toppled overboard instead.
"Splash!"
The wooden boat swayed abruptly, splashing water and startling her into withdrawing her hands. Heart pounding, she gripped the damp sides of the boat. Lin Qingyang burst into laughter—he had deliberately let the boat wobble to scare her.
Nan Banruo turned to glare at him, only for his laughter to grow louder.
"Take a rest," he said, patting her shoulder in a mockingly comforting gesture before nudging her behind him. His tone was tender, but his eyes teased.
With one hand, he steadied the boat with a pole, while the other plucked fresh lotus roots from the water. One after another, the tender white roots landed in the net at her feet.
"Are these small ones edible?" she asked.
He glanced back with a smirk. "All you think about is eating."
Nan Banruo: "…"
His gaze flicked to the net. "Enough to take back to your family. I’ll pick a few more for dinner tonight."
She didn’t respond.
She couldn’t tell what game he was playing this time—whether he was setting her up for disappointment again.
She wasn’t afraid of his teasing. What frightened her was the possibility that he might actually let her return home, only for her family to… She cut off the thought before it could take root.
Lin Qingyang gathered a few more lotus roots before pushing off with the pole. The boat skimmed across the water like a flying fish.
With his cultivation, he could easily walk on water, yet he chose to row like an ordinary fisherman. Once ashore, he tossed the net of lotus roots onto the bank before hopping off himself and reaching back to pull her up.
The boat creaked, swaying gently at the water’s edge.
The two returned to the Purple Bamboo House, their clothes fragrant with lotus blossoms.
Crossing the threshold, Lin Qingyang hummed a tune and headed straight for the kitchen.
Nan Banruo glanced back. The courtyard gate remained open, as if they were truly a married couple returning from a day’s harvest.
Knowing escape was impossible, she followed him inside.
"Is there anything I can do?" she asked, leaning against the doorframe.
Lin Qingyang didn’t hesitate. "Wait."
He drew water from the well, set out a large and a small wooden basin for her, then handed her a brush. "Wash the lotus roots," he instructed.
It was her first time doing such work, and she found it oddly fascinating. She scrubbed diligently, lost in the task.
After what felt like ages, Lin Qingyang’s voice came from behind the window. "Done yet? The oil’s hot—ready to cook."
Nan Banruo held up the half-cleaned lotus root in confusion.
Lin Qingyang stared. "Where’s the rest? You only washed half of one?"
Nan Banruo: "Wasn’t that the point?"
Lin Qingyang: "Ha!"
She was promptly banished from the kitchen.
Dinner was a feast of lotus roots.
The slender shoots were sliced thin and stir-fried to a crisp tenderness. The larger roots were stuffed with glutinous rice, cut into thick slices, and fried until golden and fragrant. There was also a dish of lotus root stir-fried with tenderloin, a stew of lotus root and pork ribs, and rice steamed in lotus leaves.
Perhaps because she had helped prepare it, Nan Banruo savored every bite.
"Pity," Lin Qingyang remarked with a smile. "Such fresh lotus roots, and your family won’t get to taste them."
Her chopsticks faltered. Her pupils constricted. "What do you mean?"
He chuckled softly. "Don’t look so tense. Do you really think I’d let them eat anything I provide?"
After a pause, her heartbeat steadied. "No."
"Exactly," he said.
She picked up her chopsticks again and finished every last slice in her bowl.
By the time Lin Qingyang tidied the courtyard, night had fallen.
Nan Banruo lay facing the wall, listening as footsteps approached. The mattress dipped slightly as he settled beside her.
When he remained still, she turned to face him.
He was already waiting, his smile lazy and knowing.
"Lin Qingyang," she said bluntly. "Are my family truly safe in this life?"
No matter how she pieced together the events of the Forbidden Realm, she couldn’t make sense of it.
"Banruo knows me best," he countered instead of answering. "Tell me—what is it I truly want?"
What did he want?
Power? The throne?
No. Those were merely stepping stones.
She met his gaze. "To ascend as a god."
"Correct." He nodded, pleased. "And I’m no bloodthirsty monster. If I can achieve my goals without slaughter, all the better."
She motioned for him to continue.
"Xuan He is incompetent. The people suffer." His eyes lowered. "Banruo has witnessed it herself. Under my rule, the realm is at peace."
Her lips pressed together. "Mm."
Since his rise, the factions that had stirred unrest under Xuan He’s reign had gone silent.
Confined to the palace, all she heard were reports of prosperity and harmony.
Had she been naive, she might have believed it.
"In this life, I want a fresh start." His fingers brushed her cheek. "If I spared your parents, could you persuade them to abandon their blind loyalty? To stop obstructing my path?"
Her heart trembled. "They’re truly unharmed?"
Lin Qingyang smiled. "You won’t believe me unless you see for yourself. Go visit them tomorrow."
He was really letting her go?
She forced her suspicion down, keeping her voice steady. "Then… is there anything else you need from me?"
His lips curved.
"You could kiss me."
In the warm glow of the candlelight, the sharp edges of his striking features softened, gentle as a spring breeze.
