The moon hung in the sky, its glow blending with the quiet night. The thick satin curtains muffled all outside noise, leaving the carriage in sudden silence, broken only by the rhythmic turning of wheels.
Yun Wan leaned lightly against the carriage wall. In the dim light, she raised a hand to cover a faint yawn, her delicate brows slightly furrowed, exhaustion lingering beneath her languid demeanor. The day’s relentless errands had drained much of her strength.
Now, lulled by the steady clatter of hooves, drowsiness crept over her, tears of weariness glistening at the corners of her eyes.
Suddenly, a soft gurgle pierced the quiet, magnified in the confined space.
Clear and unmistakable.
Yun Wan froze, then instinctively glanced down at her abdomen.
Realizing the sound had come from her own stomach, a flush of embarrassment spread across her cheeks, climbing all the way to the tips of her ears.
She couldn’t believe it.
She was so hungry her stomach had growled—and at a time like this!
Stealing a glance toward the cushioned seat, she saw Emperor Jingxuan with his eyes closed, seemingly undisturbed. Slightly relieved, she lifted the curtain to peek outside, uncertain of the hour.
After a moment’s hesitation, she lowered her voice and asked, "Eunuch Jiang, could you tell me how much longer until we arrive?"
Jiang Fusheng, seated outside driving the carriage, replied, "Do not worry, Madam Lu. It should be about half an hour more."
Half an hour.
Yun Wan frowned. It felt too long, and unease settled in her chest as she thought of Yuezhi.
Where was she now? Had she returned to the Duke’s estate to call for help, or was she still wandering outside?
Sensing her distress, Jiang Fusheng turned slightly. "Is Madam Lu troubled by something?"
Her worry plain, Yun Wan answered truthfully, "My maid was separated from me near the Luo Family Shop. I don’t know where she is now, and I’m concerned."
Jiang Fusheng chuckled. "Rest assured, Madam. His Majesty has already sent someone to find your maid. By now, she’s likely waiting for you at the Duke’s estate."
Yun Wan blinked, then turned toward the impassive man beside her. Softly, she murmured, "Your Majesty."
Beneath sharp brows, his thin eyelids lifted slightly, his gaze like a blade cutting through the night—cold, distant, and piercing.
His eyes swept over her, silently demanding: What is it?
Yun Wan suddenly smiled, the curve of her lips gentle and sincere. "Thank you."
Her gratitude was genuine, softening her features into something radiant.
In that instant, her eyes brightened, her lashes fluttering like ripples on a spring pond. The delicate flush on her cheeks deepened, lending her the vivid beauty of peach blossoms in full bloom. Even the smudges of dust on her forehead and cheeks couldn’t dim her loveliness.
Their eyes met only briefly before Emperor Jingxuan looked away, his attention shifting to the small table. His tone was indifferent, yet brooked no argument. "Eat."
Yun Wan was puzzled.
Following his gaze, she noticed the porcelain dishes on the table, each holding exquisitely crafted pastries. Among them was a white plate bearing several qingtuan—glutinous rice dumplings tinted green for the season.
Her eyes lit up. Just moments ago, she had resigned herself to enduring the hunger, planning to coax her stomach into silence until she could return home and eat properly.
But—
This also meant he had heard her stomach’s betrayal!
Flushing, Yun Wan kept her head lowered, avoiding his expression as she dampened a handkerchief to clean her hands. Then, she picked up a qingtuan and took a small bite.
The dumpling had long gone cold, but Yun Wan wasn’t picky. A little something to ease her hunger was enough.
Yet the texture surprised her. The outer layer was pleasantly chewy, while the filling was soft and sticky.
Cradling the dumpling—no larger than a baby’s fist—she nibbled carefully through the glutinous skin before tasting the filling. It was subtly savory, light and refreshing, perfectly suited to her palate.
Even while eating, her movements were graceful, a picture of elegance.
But after two bites, Yun Wan’s brows knitted together, her expression stiffening.
Emperor Jingxuan’s gaze flickered. "How does it taste?"
She opened her mouth but said nothing.
Noticing her odd reaction, he turned fully toward her, his brow furrowing. "Why won’t you speak?"
"It’s... stuck to my teeth," she admitted, covering her mouth, her voice muffled.
Her eyes shimmered with frustration, half-lidded like a pool of spring water disturbed by the wind. One glance from her could set a heart aflame.
Whatever filling this was, it clung more stubbornly than the rice itself, melting like syrup in her mouth and nearly sealing her lips shut.
Emperor Jingxuan said nothing, though a faint smirk flashed in his eyes. He poured her a cup of tea and handed it over.
Yun Wan drank it all in one go, the sticky sensation finally fading. She exhaled in relief.
As for the qingtuan, she pushed it far away—she wouldn’t dare touch it again.
Lost in thought, a flash of white caught her eye. Emperor Jingxuan was holding her hairpin, turning it idly between his fingers.
Hesitantly, she ventured, "Your Majesty, that hairpin... might I have it back?"
He glanced down at the white jade pin, raising a brow. "Is there something special about it?"
If he recalled correctly, Yun Wan wore this pin every time he saw her.
Half an hour ago, she had mistaken him for an assailant and nearly wounded him with it.
Upon closer inspection, it was just an ordinary hairpin carved from mutton-fat jade, its tip adorned with two flowers—likely pear blossoms.
Yun Wan answered, "It’s just an ordinary hairpin, nothing remarkable. Except..." She paused, then smiled. "My husband made it for me. It holds great sentimental value."
As she spoke, her smile grew radiant, her eyes brimming with nostalgia and tenderness.
The object of her affection needed no explanation.
The curve of Emperor Jingxuan’s lips flattened. He glanced at the hairpin, then set it on the table.
"If it’s a keepsake, Madam, you ought to guard it well. Lest you lose it again—your late husband in the underworld might grieve."
There was something odd about his tone. Yun Wan nodded. "Thank you for the reminder, Your Majesty. I will."
She reached to secure the pin back into her hair, but fearing her updo might loosen, she instead tucked it into the folds of her robe.
Now it wouldn’t go missing.
She cast a grateful look at Emperor Jingxuan.
Watching her carefully wipe the pin, wrap it in silk, and treat it like a treasure, he scoffed inwardly.
No wonder it looked so crude—handmade.
If this was the extent of his craftsmanship, his devotion must have been equally lacking.
