Chapter 110 (1/2): There won’t be a next time

Lin Ting pressed her face against Duan Ling’s chest, gently rubbing against him, her arms wrapping around his now slightly thinner waist.

“I just went to the latrine.”

Duan Ling acted as if nothing had happened, responding with a simple “Hmm,” but his palm rested firmly on her.

After a moment, they returned to the bed.

Duan Ling held Lin Ting’s wrist as they fell asleep, intentionally or not, his fingertip resting exactly where he could feel her pulse.

Lin Ting’s restless sleeping habits weren’t something that could be fixed by just one near-death experience; tonight was no exception.

She kicked Duan Ling a few times and squeezed him toward the edge of the bed, as if she wanted to claim the entire mattress.

Duan Ling didn’t resist; he simply held onto her wrist and kept his arm around her waist without letting go.

The next morning, Lin Ting woke up from the heat.

Duan Ling’s body temperature was as high as ever, and she had sweat through her dudou and inner garment.

She carefully pushed him away, climbed over him, and got up to change.

After dressing, Lin Ting turned and caught Duan Ling’s eyes.

He must have woken up sometime earlier, sitting quietly on the bed like before, watching her.

Lin Ting walked toward Duan Ling.

“Shall we go pay respects to Mother and Madam Feng later? I just woke up yesterday; it’s better to see some people.”

Duan Ling smiled. “Alright.”

Lin Ting glanced around the room and asked, “By the way, where did the kites we made go? I remember we left them in here.”

He got up, grabbed the coat by the bedside, draped it over himself, and fastened the tibia belt around his waist.

Then he folded the wet dudou and inner garments she had changed out of.

“I took them to the study.”

Lin Ting gave a soft “Oh.”

She had died the day after she made the kites, so Duan Ling probably thought they couldn’t fly kites together outside the city anymore and had packed them away.

She raised her hands to tie her hair behind her head, revealing her full face.

“Bring them out. I want to fly kites with you.”

Lin Ting wanted to do more things with Duan Ling—to give him a real feeling that she was alive again.

Duan Ling walked to the rack holding the basin, bent down to wash his face—not using the warm water from the stove, but cold water instead.

“When?”

“Better to strike while the iron’s hot. This afternoon.” Lin Ting wanted to spend more time with Li Jingqiu and the others in the morning; the afternoon was free.

Besides, Duan Ling was still on leave and didn’t have to go back to the Imperial Guard’s Northern Command Office.

Duan Ling wiped the cold water dripping down his chin with a cloth, then poured some warm water for her to wash her face.

“Alright.”

While Lin Ting washed her face, Duan Ling took off the Jin Caishen Pendant and put it back around her neck.

Lin Ting had been wiping her face but felt the weight on her neck, lowering her eyes to see the golden, shining Jin Caishen Pendant. “You…”

Duan Ling said, “Returning it to its rightful owner.”

She tossed the cloth aside and held the Jin Caishen Pendant like a treasure, examining it for a long moment.

He asked, “Afraid I switched it?”

“Not really. You’re not short on money, so you wouldn’t swap it for a fake gold one. It’s just that I rarely part from it for so long—I want to look at it a bit more.” Lin Ting then tucked it back inside her clothes.

“Let’s go out.”

They ran into Duan Father while paying respects to Madam Feng.

He had just come back from outside, his expression grave.

He only nodded at them before heading straight to his study without a word.

Lin Ting glanced at his departing back and asked Duan Ling, “Why do you think His Majesty summoned him to the Palace last night?”

She no longer called him “Father,” referring to him as “he.”

Duan Ling was uninterested, “It’s probably about the Shian Marquis’s rebellion.”

If it was really about that, it was fine.

Lin Ting worried the dog emperor might use the Medicine Man matter to stir trouble.

“When will you return to the Northern Command Office?”

Since she hadn’t died, Duan Ling didn’t have to continue mourning, and Emperor Jiade would probably soon summon him back.

Duan Ling answered lightly, “In a couple of days.”

Lin Ting didn’t ask more and pulled Duan Ling toward Madam Feng’s room.

Madam Feng had expected their visit and prepared an early meal.

But she still worried about Lin Ting—after being bitten by a snake once, one fears the rope for ten years—worried something might happen again.

“Did you sleep well last night?”

Lin Ting understood this was a subtle inquiry about her health.

“I slept very well.”

“That’s good.”

Madam Feng didn’t mention the dagger in the coffin from yesterday, pretending to know nothing.

Though Lin Ting planned to fly kites outside the city in the afternoon, they had to set off early.

So by noon, she took the carriage to the city gate.

Jingcheng’s streets were no longer bustling as before; many citizens were worried about the war.

Lin Ting lifted the curtain and watched for a while before lowering it again, tucking her hands into the blanket, placing her feet on Duan Ling’s leg, and closing her eyes to rest.

After a while, she felt a shadow fall across her face—not touching her but hovering just beneath her nose, as if to check her breathing.

She opened her eyes but saw nothing; the shadow seemed like a trick of her mind.

She looked at Duan Ling.

His left hand hung down; his right hand held a teapot.

Seeing her awake, he smiled. “It’s cold. Want some tea to warm up?”

The faint aroma of tea wafted over.

Lin Ting sat up straight and accepted the cup.

She took a small sip.

She had tasted tea brewed by many, but his was always the most to her liking.

Duan Ling picked up the hand warmer Lin Ting had dropped onto the seat, placing it within her reach.

Suddenly, Lin Ting raised her hand to touch his face.

Her hand, warmed by the blanket, transmitted heat along Duan Ling’s face, flowing into her own body and limbs.

He looked up and fixed his gaze on her.

Lin Ting leaned in and kissed the corner of his lips.

The scent of tea spread between their mouths.

She whispered, “There won’t be a next time.”

To an outsider, this sounded like a random phrase, but Duan Ling knew exactly what she meant.

He said nothing, returning her kiss.

An hour later, the carriage arrived at a wide open meadow outside the city.

Lin Ting jumped down, carrying the kite, and ran with the wind.

Soon, the kite took flight, hovering steadily in the air.

Duan Ling glanced at the kite and then at Lin Ting holding the string.

To get the kite airborne, she had run a short distance; the wind tousled her hair and clothes.

Lin Ting tilted her head, her eyes sweeping over the kite in Duan Ling’s hand.

“Why aren’t you letting yours go?”

He gently tapped the pattern on the kite but showed no intention of releasing it.

Walking to her side, he said, “I’m not very good at flying kites.”

“You’re not good?”

Duan Ling nodded, “When I was young, I either stayed home reading or went out practicing martial arts with my father. I only flew a kite once.”

Lin Ting handed him her kite string and said, “Hold this for me, and I’ll help you launch yours. Once the kite is airborne, the rest is easy—just control the string.”

Duan Ling twitched the string, and the kite shifted direction.

Lin Ting launched the kite Duan Ling made and glanced at him, her tone proud.

“You just fly it. If it falls, I’ll help you launch it again. I used to fly kites with Linguan often; I usually got mine up first, then hers.”

Duan Ling smiled silently.

The carriage driver, a man in his fifties who had been with the Duan family since before Duan Ling was born, watched them fly kites.

He remembered Duan Ling flying a kite once as a child—no instruction needed, he flew well.

But Duan Ling only flew it for less than half an hour, then pulled the string in and broke the kite’s wings so it could never fly again.

The driver still didn’t understand why Duan Ling did that.

The kite flew so high and far; any child would love that.

But Duan Ling seemed not to like it.

Oh well, it wasn’t the driver’s place to meddle in his master’s affairs.

He stood, led the horse elsewhere to graze, planning to return in half an hour to take them back.

Two kites flew in the sky, at first distant, then drawing close together.

Lin Ting got tired of flying kites and lay down on the spot, her orange skirt spread across the grass, the bright color breaking the winter chill.

Duan Ling lay down beside her, and Lin Ting could see him if she turned her head.

But she didn’t turn, instead feeling around beside her, hooking Duan Ling’s sleeve with her pinky finger.

He hadn’t worn wrist guards today; when she lifted the sleeve, a scarred wrist appeared.

Winter had sunshine too, casting light onto the scars hidden in his sleeve.

Duan Ling couldn’t help but look at Lin Ting.

She half-closed her eyes and gazed at the sky, pulling out a pack of candied fruit from her bosom.

Through a clean cloth, she took a few pieces and popped them into her mouth—sweet and delicious.

They stayed outside until sunset before returning.

On the way back, the carriage was stopped by a woman claiming to be a palace maid for the Empress.