A few days after the city fell, Lin Ting learned that Emperor Jiade ultimately failed to escape Jingcheng and was slain on the Dragon Throne by the Shian Marquis.
In a way, it was the Empress herself who placed Emperor Jiade on the Dragon Throne, and it was also by her hand that he was pulled down from it.
She had previously sent several letters to Xie Qinghe, some intercepted by the Imperial Guard and delivered to Emperor Jiade, while others were still passed along.
Among them were mentions of secret palace passages and their destinations.
The Empress, long confined to the inner palace and burdened with chronic illness, appeared powerless to intervene in state affairs.
Yet within her limited capacity, she had done a great deal—nearly sealing off all of Emperor Jiade’s escape routes—to atone for the transgression of elevating him against the natural order years ago.
When Emperor Jiade tried to flee Jingcheng through the secret passage, he found the exit heavily guarded.
He retreated back to the palace, choosing to die on the Dragon Throne rather than elsewhere.
But even with such an end, Lin Ting felt that Emperor Jiade had gotten off lightly.
Though Emperor Jiade was dead and Great Yan had fallen, Jin Anazi’s great grudge remained unresolved.
Because the object of his vengeance never changed—from beginning to end, it was not Emperor Jiade nor Great Yan, but the Crown Prince.
The Crown Prince was still alive.
He had escaped.
The only relief was that he most likely hadn’t yet fled the city and was still within Jingcheng.
Whether it was Jin Anazi, thirsting for revenge, or the successful rebels like the Shian Marquis and Xie Qinghe, none of them wished the Crown Prince to live.
Jin Anazi was a former prince of the previous dynasty, and many still wished to support him as emperor.
After the new emperor ascended, it was impossible to guarantee no one would rally behind the Crown Prince, raising the banner of restoring Great Yan.
So the Crown Prince had to die.
Recently, Jin Anazi had been busy tracking the Crown Prince’s whereabouts.
Lin Ting had hardly seen him.
Li Jingqiu once asked Lin Ting about Jin Anazi, urging her to bring him back for a meal and to cherish this friend well.
The day of Lin Ting’s blessing, Li Jingqiu met Jin Anazi for the first time and immediately thought well of the young man.
Later, at the funeral, she was often so grief-stricken she could barely stand, and Jin Anazi would always appear just in time to steady her before quietly withdrawing once she was safe.
Li Jingqiu remembered his kindness.
Lin Ting understood Li Jingqiu’s meaning and agreed, promising that when Jin Anazi had time, she would invite him over for a meal cooked by Li Jingqiu.
Jin Anazi was currently too busy to visit the Duan Mansion, but Xia Zimo, whom Lin Ting was less keen on seeing, frequently came over carrying all sorts of nourishing items to visit Duan Xinning and pay respects to Madam Feng and Duan Father.
It was clear Xia Zimo intended to fulfill his promise to marry Duan Xinning before the child was born.
Lin Ting preferred to keep her distance—when Xia Zimo came to the Duan Mansion, she stayed in the courtyard, shelling melon seeds and drinking tea without going out.
But her curiosity was like an unquenchable blaze.
She mainly feared that Xia Zimo would once again sweet-talk Duan Xinning into forgiving him easily.
Eventually, Lin Ting couldn’t bear it any longer and quietly sent the “information scout” Tao Zhu outside the courtyard to find out if they had met.
Unexpectedly, Duan Xinning hadn’t seen Xia Zimo at all and had thrown out the supplements he brought.
She even sent a message through her maid to Xia Zimo, saying that after months of contemplation, their marriage was off.
The child was hers alone, and she would have nothing to do with him going forward.
Madam Feng and Duan Father didn’t interfere much.
The Duan Family was prosperous enough to support Duan Xinning for life, and having more children was no problem.
As for what others thought of the Duan Family, Madam Feng didn’t care—she had spent years eating vegetarian and chanting Buddha’s name, and she took things with ease.
As long as Duan Xinning was happy and well, marriage was not a necessity.
Xia Zimo repeatedly met resistance at the Duan Mansion.
Upon hearing this, Lin Ting felt a wave of relief and her appetite opened wide, so she ate two extra bowls of rice.
During the meal, Lin Ting kept glancing at Duan Ling sitting across from her.
Several days had passed since the city fell, but the new emperor had yet to be confirmed, and no news of the new emperor had come through.
She wanted to know who would be the new emperor but didn’t want to ask Xia Zimo.
Duan Ling deliberately picked up a chicken leg and handed it to Lin Ting as if seeing through her thoughts, saying, “What do you want to ask?”
Lin Ting quickly devoured the whole chicken leg and took a bite of rice.
“Who will be the new emperor?”
“Who do you want to be the new emperor?”
She shrugged and wiped the oil off her fingers with a handkerchief.
“It’s not for me to decide. No matter who I want, it won’t make a difference.”
Duan Ling put down his jade chopsticks and bowl, locking eyes with her.
“That may be, but I want to know who you want to see as the new emperor. Is it Xie Qinghe?”
Lin Ting shook her head honestly.
“Xie Wu Gongzi isn’t really suited to be emperor.”
He seemed a bit surprised and smiled, asking, “When Xie Qinghe appeared during the plague in Jingcheng, he wanted to send you a Jianghu Divine Doctor. You thought he was a good person and even concealed his identity for him. Why suddenly say he isn’t suitable to be emperor?”
Lin Ting thought for a moment.
“It’s not sudden—I’ve felt that way for a while. He is a good person, no doubt, but he is too sentimental.”
She spoke freely in her own courtyard.
“Being sentimental isn’t necessarily bad, but his sentimentality would allow those around him to lead him by the nose, making him an easy puppet emperor.”
Duan Ling shifted his tone.
“A few days ago, Xie Qinghe asked me to send his regards to you.”
Lin Ting looked at him in surprise.
“Xie Wu Gongzi asked you to send his regards a few days ago?”
She wondered why he was only telling her now.
He said casually, “I forgot to mention it before. Just remembered today.”
Lin Ting responded with an “Oh,” without much reaction—they were merely acquaintances.
“How’s Jingcheng these past few days? Still chaotic?”
She hadn’t been to the streets in a while and quite wanted to go out and see.
Duan Ling glanced out the window.
Snowflakes fluttered down, coating rooftops and branches in white.
“Things are mostly back to normal. We’ll go out to take a look later. Once Jingcheng is fully restored, your cloth shop can reopen for business.”
Lin Ting gave up trying to wipe off the oil with her handkerchief and tossed it aside.
Duan Ling took out a fresh handkerchief, dampened it with some tea, and wiped her hands.
The grease gradually faded, replaced by the faint fragrance of tea.
Lin Ting gazed at his sharply defined profile and suddenly asked, “Will you still be an Imperial Guard in the future?”
With two dynasties changing and a complete overhaul of officials, Duan Ling was no longer the Imperial Guard’s Deputy Commander.
Yet with his abilities, if he wanted, he could still return to the Imperial Guard.
Duan Ling wiped the last trace of oil from her fingers.
“Maybe yes, maybe no.”
Before they headed out, they encountered Li Jingqiu, who heard Lin Ting was going out and wanted to accompany them.
Li Jingqiu knew Duan Ling’s formidable skills and believed Lin Ting would be safe with him.
Yet even so, she was still worried.
Lin Ting thought they hadn’t strolled together in a long time, so she agreed to bring Li Jingqiu along.
After boarding the carriage, Lin Ting hooked the curtain aside to observe outside.
Duan Ling was right—Jingcheng had nearly returned to normal.
Shops along every street and alley were reopening, and the long streets were bustling with crowds.
When the carriage passed Qipan Street, Lin Ting called out to stop and jumped down to check her cloth shop, making sure the doors and windows were firmly closed and intact before she felt at ease.
Duan Ling followed closely behind.
Li Jingqiu stayed in the carriage but peered at the cloth shop through the curtain.
Long ago, Li Jingqiu knew Lin Ting had opened a cloth shop; after all, Third Master Lin had punished Lin Ting by making her kneel in the ancestral hall over this matter.
But knowing about it was one thing—Li Jingqiu had only ever glanced at the shop from afar on Qipan Street, never stepping inside.
Lin Ting turned to Li Jingqiu and asked, “Mother, do you want to go in and take a look?”
Li Jingqiu looked over the shop again.
“It’s just a cloth shop. What’s so special about it?”
Seeing Lin Ting’s shop up close today, she couldn’t help but recall the days when she was young and did business with her father outside.
A complicated mix of feelings swelled in her heart.
She missed those times.
Though her father favored sons, at least she got to engage in a business she liked.
After marriage, all she had left were household chores in the inner chambers.
Her eyes dimmed.
Judging by Li Jingqiu’s tone, Lin Ting guessed she wanted to see inside and quickly took out the key to unlock the shop’s door.
“Come on in and take a look.”
Li Jingqiu relented and got out of the carriage, following Lin Ting into the cloth shop.
The shop wasn’t especially large nor particularly small.
After wandering a while, Li Jingqiu lifted some cloth covered by a piece of cloth.
“Looks quite good. How much silver do you make in a month?”
Lin Ting replied, “As long as it doesn’t lose money.”
Suddenly, a voice interrupted.
“Boss, I want to buy a few bolts of cloth.”
“Sorry, we’re not doing business today…” Lin Ting said, glancing toward the door.
“Factory Supervisor, what brings you here?”
Ta Xuening stepped over the threshold and looked around the shop, clicking his tongue.
“Didn’t I just say I want to buy some clothes?”
She exchanged a glance with Duan Ling.
“Sorry, I was confused. Which bolts do you want?”
Ta Xuening scanned Li Jingqiu standing to Lin Ting’s right without his usual sarcasm.
“You said you’re not doing business today?”
“You’re different. Today, I want to do business with you.”
Lin Ting had seen a Prayer Ribbon tied to a tree under which she was buried.
It bore the words: “May Lin Ting be free from illness and disaster, and may her mother be safe and well.”
She guessed Ta Xuening had written it.
Later, when he attended her funeral, she was certain it was him.
She just didn’t know how he managed to get the Prayer Ribbon inside the Duan Mansion.
Lin Ting once suspected he had tossed it over the courtyard wall from outside, otherwise how could it have fallen to the ground instead of hanging on the tree?
Ta Xuening walked over to the long table beside Li Jingqiu, not looking at her but at the colorful bolts of cloth.
He selected a few.
“How much silver?”
Lin Ting named the price.
He ordered his attendants to carry the cloth away and remained behind.
“I have a few words I want to say to Miss Lin privately. May I borrow you for a moment?”
She instinctively glanced at Li Jingqiu.
“That’s fine,” Lin Ting said.
Outside the cloth shop, Ta Xuening looked at the swirling snowflakes and caught some in his hand.
The pure white snow slowly melted in his warm palm, dripping through his fingers, unable to stay.
He spoke softly, “I know you found out long ago that I know your mother.”
Lin Ting nodded, “Mm.”
Ta Xuening slowly closed his fingers but couldn’t hold the melted snow.
“I want to ask one thing of you—never tell her that I am Ying Zhihe.”
“Why?”
Lin Ting had not told Li Jingqiu about Ta Xuening’s identity before because he was then plotting rebellion, and success was uncertain.
She feared implicating Li Jingqiu.
Now that everything was settled, she had thought about telling her.
Ta Xuening curled the corner of his lips and replied, “I want Ying Zhihe to live purely in her heart. Ying Zhihe was a good official for the country and the people, while Ta Xuening is a eunuch with bloodstained hands.”
Lin Ting was silent for a long moment.
“Alright, I promise I won’t tell her.”
“Thank you.”
Ta Xuening turned and left.
No sooner had he taken a step than Li Jingqiu came out from the cloth shop.
Her gaze landed on Ta Xuening’s solitary figure, feeling a sudden pang of sadness without knowing why.
She didn’t dwell on it.
“Leyun, lock the cloth shop’s door. Let’s go to the tavern.”
When Lin Ting had just left the Duan Mansion, she mentioned wanting to eat something at a tavern.
Seeing Ta Xuening leave, Li Jingqiu was ready to leave the cloth shop as well.
Duan Ling also stepped outside.
“Alright, let’s go to the tavern.”
Lin Ting went over and linked arms with Li Jingqiu and Duan Ling.
That night back at the Duan Mansion, Lin Ting was carried by Duan Ling.
She had walked too much during the day and didn’t want to move even for the short walk from the mansion gate to their courtyard.
Li Jingqiu said she had matters to discuss with Madam Feng and parted ways to return to the courtyard.
Lin Ting lay limp on Duan Ling’s back, her legs swinging beside his.
“Let’s go to Jiangnan sometime, alright? I want to see the rain there.”
“All right.”
Lin Ting stretched out her hand and tightened her hold on him, suddenly saying, “I like you.”
Duan Ling’s footsteps faltered.
She repeated, “I like you.”
Duan Ling heard it clearly—this “I like you” was different from the ones she had said before.
He slowly curved his eyes into a smile.
“Good.”