When Duan Ling turned back, he shifted to face her directly.
His expression was calm as he suddenly asked, “In your heart, how important is Jin Anazi?”
Lin Ting weighed her words carefully:
“In my heart, friends are naturally very important.”
His fingertip traced the embroidered pattern on the quilt, pausing at the twin lotus design as he casually asked:
“What about me? Am I important to you?”
She hesitated briefly: “Important.”
Duan Ling’s gaze settled on her face with a knowing smile: “You hesitated just now.”
Lin Ting didn’t know why she’d paused either-she’d just instinctively given the question serious thought:
“You kept asking about Jin Anazi, then suddenly switched to asking about yourself. I didn’t react in time.”
Duan Ling’s eyebrow twitched slightly:
“You say I’m important to you too-how important? Is Young Master Jin more important, or am I?”
Lin Ting blinked: “You’re different. I can’t answer that.”
This question was similar to “Who would you save first if we both fell in the water?”
In short, a death trap.
“Is it that difficult?”
It truly was.
Lin Ting hesitated before speaking: “Are you forcing me to answer?!”
After a long silence, Duan Ling touched her hand resting on the quilt and said calmly:
“I’m not forcing you. I just want to know.”
“But I really can’t answer that.”
Lin Ting’s fingers moved slightly—not to pull away, but to open slightly, allowing Duan Ling to touch exactly where he wanted her palm.
Duan Ling’s fingertip pressed into her palm: “Do you truly only regard Young Master Jin as a friend?”
Lin Ting detected something amiss:
“You… don’t think I like Jin Anazi, do you?”
Wasn’t this the cliché drama trope where the husband suspects his wife likes another man?
How had this happened to her!
Duan Ling watched her without speaking.
Lin Ting nearly jumped up: “I really only see him as a friend! Even if there’s affection, it’s the kind between friends, not what you’re thinking.”
Her liking Jin Anazi?
Absurd.
Theirs was the kind of relationship where they’d happily see each other dead-she couldn’t stand Jin Anazi, and his eyes were only on revenge and that dog he picked up.
Romantic feelings were completely impossible.
If Jin Anazi knew someone thought she liked him, he’d roll his eyes so hard he’d lose his appetite from sheer disbelief.
Just imagining it made Lin Ting’s skin crawl, and she couldn’t help rubbing her arms.
Duan Ling: “Is that so?”
Lin Ting raised her hand to swear, declaring firmly:
“I swear I only see Jin Anazi as a friend, never had any other thoughts about him. If I’m lying, may I never earn another coin in this lifetime and become a pauper.”
“A pauper?”
She explained: “It means so poor you can’t even afford an egg.”
Duan Ling recalled Lin Ting’s attitude toward money, then glanced at her neck.
Reaching over, he grasped the golden wealth god pendant that carried both her body warmth and scent, bringing it close to examine:
“That’s quite the dire oath.”
Since the pendant hung around her neck, his movement forced Lin Ting to lean in abruptly, bringing them so close their breaths momentarily intertwined.
She said righteously: “Well I’m not lying, so what does it matter how dire the oath is?”
Seeming to believe her, Duan Ling tightened his grip on the pendant, not letting her pull away, and asked:
“What kind of liking do you have for me?”
Lin Ting lowered her eyes, considering before answering slowly:
“Haven’t I said before? It’s the kind of liking that made me want to marry you.”
Duan Ling watched her downcast lashes.
“In other words, your feelings for me are romantic. Have you ever liked anyone else besides me?”
The word “like” kept echoing in Lin Ting’s ears, overwhelming her like brainwashing, making her inexplicably shy:
“Yes, it’s romantic love. I’ve never liked anyone else besides you.”
She enjoyed Duan Ling’s closeness.
This physical attraction was romantic in nature-in fact, it was the first time Lin Ting had ever experienced such feelings toward a man.
Neither before transmigrating into this book nor after had she encountered men with outstanding appearances who stirred this kind of physical desire.
She’d only ever wanted to admire them from afar, without any urge for closer contact or intimacy.
After her initial turmoil, Lin Ting gradually calmed down.
Since these feelings had emerged, why not let nature take its course?
It wasn’t anything bad anyway.
Having clarified her heart, she accepted it openly.
She looked at Duan Ling.
She saw him smile slightly before burying his face in the crook of her neck, breathing in her increasingly familiar scent.
When he blinked, his long lashes brushed against her skin: “Will you ever love someone else in the future?”
Who could predict the future?
Lin Ting didn’t want to lie at this moment: “I’m not sure.”
Even after marriage, there could be separation-no one was bound to another for life.
Duan Ling raised his head to study Lin Ting, then covered her eyes again with his hand:
“If you ever like someone else in the future, I…”
Lin Ting again pulled down the hand covering her eyes, waiting quietly for him to continue.
But he didn’t.
After waiting in vain, Lin Ting asked curiously:
“What did you want to say? Why stop?”
She genuinely wanted to know his response.
Duan Ling avoided answering: “I don’t know what I wanted to say, so I stopped.”
“I thought you were going to threaten me, like saying you’d kill me or something.”
Having read too many melodramatic novels, Lin Ting’s mind kept conjuring clichéd scenarios.
He laughed softly before responding after a pause: “Is that how you see me?”
Lin Ting: “……”
She very much wanted to ask Duan Ling if he remembered the wall of eyes behind the bookshelf.
For a while, she’d been quite worried he might gouge her eyes out.
Duan Ling placed the golden wealth god pendant back around her neck: “I would never kill you.”
“Then what would you do?”
“It’s very late we should rest.”
Closing his eyes, his lashes casting shadows, he murmured gently:
“Who knows what might happen in the future? We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”
Soon, Duan Ling’s breathing became steady and he stopped moving, as if asleep.
Lin Ting turned over.
Early the next morning, after Duan Ling had left on official business, Lin Ting leisurely got up to wash and have breakfast.
While eating, she recalled Duan Ling’s unusual behavior the previous night.
He’d seemed reluctant to let her touch his wrist-she’d noticed this before, but after last night, the impression grew stronger.
Why was that?
Taking a bite of steamed bun, her gaze wandered until it landed on a servant standing nearby.
The servant’s face bore scratch marks that looked quite severe, some areas even bleeding.
“What happened to your face?”
“Replying to the young miss, a poisonous insect crawled over this slave’s face last night. Upon waking, it felt unbearably itchy, and scratching caused these wounds.”
Lin Ting swallowed the last bite of her steamed bun and finished a bowl of soybean milk.
“Stop scratching it. Get some ointment, or it might leave a scar.”
Few people would want scars on their bodies.
The maid replied, “This servant will remember.”
Wiping her mouth with a handkerchief, Lin Ting said, “You don’t need to attend to me today. Go find some medicine.”
“Yes.”
As the maid was about to leave, Lin Ting glanced at her again.
A scar?
It suddenly made sense why Duan Ling had been reluctant to let her touch his wrist earlier.
After breakfast, Lin Ting went out under the pretense of wanting to stroll around, with the Imperial Guards closely following.
She wandered the streets until she spotted a large red lantern bearing the character “Jin” hanging from one of Ancheng’s tallest buildings—a sight that eased her mind.
The night before, Lin Ting had told Xie Qinghe to hang such a lantern from the highest building in Ancheng once Jin Anazi was safely settled.
This way, she could confirm his condition without meeting in person and avoid unnecessary complications.
She hoped Jin Anazi would recover well-those injuries would take at least half a month to heal properly.
Wary of arousing suspicion from the guards, Lin Ting didn’t linger on the lantern.
Instead, she bought some pastries she had missed the previous day before heading back.
On the way home, she passed by a tailor’s shop and noticed two outfits strikingly similar to the wedding attire she and Duan Ling had worn.
She purchased them immediately.
Lin Ting thought it was time to reclaim their long-overdue wedding night.
That evening, she bathed first, changed into a red dress, and lay in bed.
Duan Ling returned late, near the end of the Xu hour-he usually dined before coming back, so Lin Ting didn’t mention supper.
She only asked him to put on the red robe she had hung on the screen after his bath.
Normally, one would only wear undergarments and thin trousers after bathing, not a full set of clothes.
Though puzzled, Duan Ling complied.
The moment he approached the bed, Lin Ting threw off the covers and sat up.
Duan Ling froze.
A golden hairpin adorned her hair, and her red dress mirrored the style of his robe-together, they looked almost like wedding attire.
Glancing down at the red fabric, Duan Ling murmured, “You bought me new clothes…?”
Lin Ting rose on her toes and kissed him.
Pushed onto the bed, Duan Ling tensed as she pulled up his sleeve-revealing the crisscrossed scars on his wrist.
When her lips brushed against them, his entire body shuddered violently, as if struck by an overwhelming shock.
The newly donned red robe slipped to the floor.
She kissed his scars again.