Outside the door.
Cui Wangshu dragged Jiang Chenbi to the edge of the pool and carefully washed the flour from her wrist. She also wiped the flour that Jiang Chenbi had smeared on her face.
Her ink-black brows and eyes were dampened by the water, making her look less serious and more wild.
“Miss Jiang is truly versatile, coaxing everyone into smiles,” Cui Wangshu said sourly, recalling Jiang Ci’s smiling face from earlier.
Jiang Chenbi leaned in and kissed her lips, laughing. “When did I coax them? They’re your family. Isn’t it good if I get along well with them?”
Cui Wangshu paused, realizing what she meant by “family,” and held her breath. She probed, “Family?”
Did Jiang Chenbi want to marry her? She didn’t care about that—they were both women, so it didn’t matter who married whom. She just wanted an official bond to spend her life together.
Jiang Chenbi curved her eyes into a smile. “You’ve supported each other all these years, even spending the New Year together. Aren’t they your family?”
Cui Wangshu let out an “oh” and lowered her gaze in silence, avoiding Jiang Chenbi’s smiling eyes.
So it was family, not marriage…
Jiang Chenbi didn’t know what she was thinking and assumed she’d guessed their relationship too intimately. She hesitated. “Did I say something wrong?”
Cui Wangshu sighed inwardly. She doesn’t want to now, but someday she will.
She tugged her lips into a smile. “No, you’re right. I do treat them like family.”
Seeing her expression normalize, Jiang Chenbi breathed a sigh of relief. Good, she hadn’t said anything wrong.
It was still early for dinner, and the two rarely had time to chat alone. Cui Wangshu asked, “I thought you wouldn’t return until next year. Why come early?”
Jiang Chenbi’s eyes darkened as she recalled recent events.
During the Myriad Nations Conference, He Yin had escaped from the Poison Gu Sect’s water prison. Her “good” senior sister, like a mad dog, hadn’t hidden but chased her all the way to Luozhou.
She hid in the suburbs of Luozhou, sending gu worms to Jiang Chenbi daily without showing herself.
After learning this, Jiang Chenbi set aside the sect’s internal chaos and had people track He Yin first.
He Yin had once tried to plant a love gu on her; the other half had nearly taken root, but Ma Gu Po arrived in time, using a life gu to exchange for it and prevent the planting.
Now that she’d come to Luozhou, it was naturally for Jiang Chenbi again.
The memories filled Jiang Chenbi with hatred—she wanted to dismember He Yin a thousand times over. But since He Yin was the one who’d planted the love gu on her, she couldn’t kill her.
Suppressing her seething hatred and disgust, Jiang Chenbi met He Yin, but despite the tight net, He Yin escaped, nearly costing Jiang Chenbi her life.
Fearing He Yin might target Cui Wangshu, she hurried back to the capital.
Jiang Chenbi frowned slightly and didn’t plan to tell her the details. “There was some trouble at the Poison Gu Sect, but luckily Shifu is still in the Southern Frontier, so it was handled quickly.”
Cui Wangshu pursed her lips. For the first time, she didn’t stop there and pressed, “What happened? Can you tell me?”
Jiang Chenbi lowered her eyes, unsure how to explain. He Yin was too dangerous—the hardest opponent she’d ever faced. Telling Cui Wangshu would expose their relationship.
After hesitating, she said carefully, “Do you remember the woman I told you about who planted the love gu on me? She escaped from the water prison.”
The words hit like thunder. Cui Wangshu froze but, knowing little about gu poisons, asked, “Does this threaten your life?”
Jiang Chenbi paused before saying, “No, but be careful of her. She’s a lunatic. Watch for strangers around you lately—don’t believe a word they say, no matter what.”
Her words claimed no threat to life, yet every sentence was a warning.
Cui Wangshu pursed her lips. What kind of person could even Jiang Chenbi call a “lunatic”?
“Who is she exactly? Why did she plant the love gu on you back then?” Cui Wangshu lowered her eyes and asked softly.
Jiang Chenbi’s gaze darkened with complexity. “She’s… an orphan. No one knows her origins. As for the love gu…”
She trailed off. Cui Wangshu saw the raw hatred in her eyes and knew the past was more complicated than imagined. Bringing it up now was like reopening a wound.
“It’s okay. If you don’t want to say, we won’t. Just know that no matter what happens, I’m with you through thick and thin.” Cui Wangshu took her hand, gazing at her firmly and tenderly.
Jiang Chenbi met her eyes, smiled, and said resolutely, “Good.”
At that moment, a bright voice called, “There you two are! Come in for dinner.”
Jiang Ci suddenly appeared, waving them over as if she’d been searching.
Cui Wangshu looked up. “Coming right away. You go first.”
Jiang Ci figured they might have private matters, nodded, and left.
Looking down at Jiang Chenbi, Cui Wangshu smiled. “Let’s not think about anything today. Can we just celebrate the New Year?”
Jiang Chenbi laughed. “Sure.”
Without delay, they entered the room and saw the three already seated. Cui Wangshu nodded. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”
Jiang Ci said casually, “No need to be polite with us. Come try my new dish.”
Cui Wangshu led Jiang Chenbi to sit and ladled her a bowl of soup. “Wang Lao’s soup is excellent.”
Jiang Ci swallowed her food and nodded. “True, Wang Lao’s soup is better than mine.”
Wang Xian smiled. “You all love flattering this old man.”
The atmosphere was warm. Even Xun An’s eyes held pleasure, though she spoke little, only responding briefly when addressed.
Jiang Chenbi’s eyes brimmed with laughter as she scanned the table, meeting Cui Wangshu’s smiling gaze. She hooked her lips.
This was good. Over the years, Cui Wangshu had true friends by her side—far better than the two-faced hypocrites of the Cui Family.
After dinner, they returned to the Shangshu Residence.
Jiang Chenbi wore a sheer gauze robe and sat by the bath pool, her legs swaying in the water. Watching her childlike movements, Cui Wangshu climbed out too.
She draped clothes over herself and sat close beside her.
Jiang Chenbi turned, smiled, leaned her head on Cui Wangshu’s shoulder, and gazed at the water dotted with rose petals. The red curtains of the bath palace gave her a sudden sense of being newlyweds.
Staring at the surface, Jiang Chenbi suddenly said, “Cui Wangshu, can we grow old together?”
Her words came abruptly. Cui Wangshu froze, unable to respond for a long time.
Seeing her silence stretch, Jiang Chenbi pursed her lips, realizing she’d said too much. She feigned lightness. “I was joking. Pretend I didn’t say it.”
The long silence made the air heavy. Cui Wangshu spoke softly, “Tonight, shall we get married?”
Jiang Chenbi didn’t answer. She swayed her legs in the water, tried to smile, but tears fell first. Her voice was hoarse. “…Good.”
The future was uncertain, and no one else would know of their private vow. Tonight, let it be a dream—marrying Cui Wangshu once in this life.
Cui Wangshu sighed, leaned over, cupped her face gently, and kissed away her tears. Looking at her, her voice trembled. “Didn’t you say ‘good’? Why cry?”
Jiang Chenbi closed her eyes, gripped her wrist, turned away, furrowed her brows. Two streams of clear tears rolled down, scorching Cui Wangshu’s hand.
“I don’t know…” Her murmur was soft and hoarse.
Seeing her cry soured Cui Wangshu’s nose. She bit the soft flesh inside her cheek hard, forcing back her tears.
It was supposed to be a joyous wedding—one a tearful mess, the other with an aching nose.
“Can we keep it from others?” Jiang Chenbi looked at her, voice choking.
Touched by the plea in her eyes, Cui Wangshu softened but didn’t want to hide their bond. She could give Jiang Chenbi open, unwavering love—even proclaim it to the world.
“Why?” Cui Wangshu softened her gaze, wanting her explanation.
Jiang Chenbi shook her head lightly, avoiding her eyes, murmuring, “The world is unsettled. This relationship would only harm you, no benefit. Besides, you and I…”
Cui Wangshu pursed her lips, brushed her cheek to wipe the tears, and said hoarsely, “Then once I seize the throne, can we be together openly?”
Seeing the near-obsessive resolve in her eyes, Jiang Chenbi wavered for the first time in her fixation on Cui Wangshu.
Had she been wrong? Maybe from the start, she shouldn’t have selfishly pulled Cui Wangshu into this.
He Yin’s sudden upheaval disrupted all her plans. She could no longer give Cui Wangshu the firm promise of never leaving.
Thus, Cui Wangshu’s obsession became a worry. Jiang Chenbi regretted not eliminating all threats before involving her.
If she weren’t so selfish, should they part in life or death, Cui Wangshu wouldn’t suffer so.
But life had no “ifs.” She’d done it, made Cui Wangshu fall for her as planned. The mistake was cast; no room for regret.
Jiang Chenbi hid her complex gaze and smiled through tears. “Yes, so I’ll help you ascend the throne, even if it means—”
Cui Wangshu blocked her lips with a hand before she finished.
Head lowered, her emotions hidden, a single tear fell silently to the ground. The crystal droplet vanished in midair but caught Jiang Chenbi’s eye.
Hoarsely, “Don’t say it. Don’t be so cruel to me…”
She’d never cried in front of Jiang Chenbi, rarely showing vulnerability, burying emotions deep—only spilling them alone.
The only time Jiang Chenbi had seen her sad was that rainy night in Luozhou.
Using the rain as cover, she fused her emotions with her sword dance, letting them flow silently into the darkness. She was always so composed, even hiding sorrow from everyone.
That night, Jiang Chenbi truly realized the woman before her wasn’t the political machine others saw. She was alive, with desires and emotions—joy and sorrow—but chains too heavy to show weakness.
Cui Daoyuan’s inhuman training had crushed her spirit, teaching that negative emotions got no response; hide them, handle alone.
Turning a living person into a flawless machine in others’ eyes.
As if Cui Wangshu was born to be a precise machine—only her strategies visible, no errors, no human emotions.
Now, this woman who hid sorrow in rainy nights bared her vulnerability without reserve. Jiang Chenbi couldn’t bear—or allow herself—to hurt her again.
Against He Yin, she had no guaranteed victory. But for Cui Wangshu, she’d try, even if it led to ruin. As long as she lived, she’d crawl back.
Even if fate forsook her, she’d keep Cui Wangshu safe. Their bond’s wrongs—she’d bear them.
Cui Wangshu, with her grand ideals, shouldn’t be trapped by love. She’d handle it all, offer the empire on a platter for her dreams.
Her throat tightened. Jiang Chenbi moved Cui Wangshu’s hand from her lips, resolute. “I promise you. I won’t leave you easily. Even from hell, I’ll crawl back to you.”
