A Mirror That Longs To Return - Chapter 4

They would have objections?

Yan Changjun paused in slight surprise and asked, “Why would they object?”

He Jingling put on an embarrassed expression and lowered her eyes meekly as she spoke.

“Among the Jinyiwei present tonight, my rank and reputation are both unremarkable. Most importantly, my martial arts are inferior to everyone else’s. And yet I alone have been entrusted with the important responsibility of protecting Your Highness…”

The words came remarkably smoothly to He Jingling.

She had already thought it through carefully. Among the men in the novel, there was already a loyal hound, an aloof one, and a noble and incorruptible one. After considering every possibility, this seemed to be the only path left open to her.

Then perhaps…

She should act like a bit of a green tea?

She trusted herself to strike the right balance, especially with the added advantage of her face.

Even so, countless people still fought to be first, squeezing themselves bloody in their eagerness to enter Princess Jialang’s residence.

He Jingling swore that had she not read the original novel and known that the princess was a career-obsessed woman who had sealed away her heart and locked up her capacity for love, she would never have lowered herself enough to join their ranks.

“What criticism could they possibly have of me?” Yan Changjun smiled as wisps of incense smoke curled past her temple. “Are you worried about me?”

She looked He Jingling over once again.

The couch was spacious, yet He Jingling kept her legs pressed tightly together, both hands resting properly and obediently in place.

A woman disguising herself as a man to hold office would naturally face the death penalty if discovered.

Was that why she was so restrained?

What surprised Yan Changjun most, however, was what He Jingling had said.

He Jingling looked entirely sincere and now appeared flustered as well.

“This subject did not mean that they would gossip about Your Highness behind your back! I was only worried that my martial arts and rank cannot compare with theirs—especially Lord Pei, who is also my direct superior.”

Yan Changjun curved her lips, leaned back against the neck cushion, and closed her eyes.

She let one light, drifting sentence fall from her lips.

“You need not worry about that. First, I do not fear public criticism. Second, I personally chose you. If they say anything to you, you may report it to me afterward.”

The words report it to me afterward made He Jingling’s heart give a violent thump.

Wait.

She had only begun acting like a green tea for two or three sentences. How had it already worked?!

Had things truly progressed this far?

He Jingling suddenly found herself utterly bewildered.

Wasn’t this moving a little too quickly?

Although she knew she possessed enormous personal charm and her technique was highly sophisticated, had Her Highness really made such a promise so easily?

Only with difficulty did He Jingling calm herself enough to recall the original plot.

Yan Changjun had made plenty of insincere promises. This woman never felt remorse and acted entirely on instinct.

In any case, someone always had to pay the price for her grand ambitions.

Then…

Should He Jingling test her a little further?

She raised her eyes, filling them with sincere, innocent guilelessness.

“If I tell Your Highness, will Your Highness stand up for me?”

She heard a soft laugh.

Yan Changjun’s thin lips parted slightly, but the words that emerged were cold.

“Not necessarily.”

He Jingling: “…”

She withdrew every thought she had just entertained.

“But I will take it into consideration.”

He Jingling: “…”

Well, there was no harm in having a few more thoughts.

Only after a long while did He Jingling slowly say, “This subject is truly apprehensive.”

She remained meek, eyes lowered, daring only to glance from the corner of her eye at the shadows cast across the wall.

“What is Lord He apprehensive about?” Yan Changjun’s tone was leisurely, as though she had developed some interest.

He Jingling merely said, “Your Highness’s person is worth ten thousand pieces of gold. How could this subject dare share a carriage with you? What if… what if…”

This time, Yan Changjun’s laughter flowed softly.

“What if what? Raise your head.”

Her tone permitted no refusal.

The sound seemed to vibrate through the air, and He Jingling unconsciously raised her head, meeting those long phoenix eyes.

Only the width of a low table separated them.

He Jingling’s throat bobbed. After a moment of coy hesitation, she said, “What if someone with ulterior motives hears about this, exaggerates the matter, and damages Your Highness’s reputation?”

After speaking, she still wore a deeply worried expression.

Yet inwardly, she released a long breath of relief.

Even a simple word like yes could be spoken with such careful deliberation!

Yan Changjun suddenly turned sideways and lifted the window curtain slightly, the dust in her heart finally settling.

He Jingling’s carefully chosen yes had greatly amused her.

Only a low table separated them, and even that did not completely obstruct the space between them.

In the next instant, He Jingling saw that flowerlike, snow-bright face abruptly magnified several times before her.

Only then did she realize Yan Changjun’s pupils were not entirely black. They carried a faint brownish hue.

The thin folds above her eyes tilted upward, and the wings of her nose moved faintly with each breath.

But none of that was the most important thing.

The scent of phoenix-marrow incense grew increasingly intense, mingling with the heat of Yan Changjun’s breath before curling around the tip of He Jingling’s nose.

Yan Changjun leaned toward her.

He Jingling was horrified. Her first instinct was to shrink backward, but she quickly remembered that Yan Changjun would never touch her.

From the first word of the novel to the last, Her Highness had sealed away her heart and barred herself from love, faithfully putting that principle into practice.

Carriage after carriage of men had been delivered to her. They certainly arrived, but Yan Changjun had never once truly looked at them.

It had already become one of the methods she used in her political struggle with the emperor and the court officials.

Now that the emperor was gradually growing older, Yan Changjun could not remain entirely beyond reproach.

She had to appear to love something, even if it was only an act.

He Jingling did not dare breathe too loudly.

“Yes. This subject has only served for a little over a year. I truly did not know.”

“Oh…”

Yan Changjun drew the word out languidly, then suddenly withdrew and returned to her seat, watching He Jingling with great interest.

“A year of service is hardly a short time. I have also heard that as a Jinyiwei officer, you ought to travel about arresting criminals on ordinary days.”

She had traveled all over the city and still knew nothing about Yan Changjun’s affairs?

Although Yan Changjun had already moved away, waves of heat still rolled across He Jingling’s face.

All she could do now was force herself to continue pretending ignorance.

She explained that although she was a Jinyiwei chiliarch, she had recently been assisting the Five Cities Military Patrol, so her activities were mainly confined to the southern part of the capital.

“The southern city? No wonder Lord He does not know. If you do not know, then let it be.” Yan Changjun laughed twice. “After all, the Princess Manor is in the northern city.”

She had no intention of explaining further and moved on to another subject.

“Who is in your family?”

She had just done something so ambiguous, yet Yan Changjun could continue as though nothing had happened. Not only did she display no unusual reaction, she even had the leisure to investigate He Jingling’s household registration.

He Jingling felt the pressure weighing down on her like a mountain.

“There are two other people in my household. My mother runs a clothing shop that makes finished garments, and I also have a twelve-year-old younger sister.”

Just mentioning these two additional relatives gave He Jingling a headache.

“Oh? And your father?” Yan Changjun asked thoughtfully.

He Jingling shook her head to indicate there was none.

“My mother is the head of the household.”

“And your mother’s parents?”

“My maternal grandfather died young. She was raised by my maternal grandmother.”

Yan Changjun fell silent for a breath, then asked, “How old are you this year?”

“Twenty-one.”

Yan Changjun suddenly raised an eyebrow, a smile resting at the corner of her lips.

“You are only five years younger than me, yet you still have not married?”

He Jingling: “…”

I know. I also know you’ve already buried two husbands, with another one still on his way. Who could possibly have more marital experience than you?

Yan Changjun had been about to say something else when the carriage suddenly stopped.

A voice came from beyond the curtain.

“Your Highness, we have arrived at the residence!”

“We have arrived? Then let us get out.”

Yan Changjun withdrew her gaze and rose calmly.

Yet when she lifted the curtain, she saw the coachman wearing a deeply troubled expression.

Yan Changjun looked at him in confusion.

“What is it?”

The coachman shifted aside, revealing a tall, slender figure in blue-green robes standing behind him.

He lowered his voice.

“Your Highness, it seems today is the day the Prince Consort was summoned.”

“When did I ever summon him?” Yan Changjun asked with faint irritation.

Lüqi spoke even more softly beside her.

“Three months ago today, Your Highness drove him away and told him to return in three months.”

Yan Changjun choked on her words.

It seemed she would have to find a different excuse this time.

He Jingling had not yet recovered from the turmoil of moments ago and was still calculating how she might extricate herself later.

Upon hearing their conversation, she could not help mocking the unfortunate third victim in her heart.

Xu Zhiyan, the third-place graduate in the imperial examination during the Yuanqing era, had been appointed Prince Consort and become Princess Jialang’s third spring.

First, Yan Changjun tormented him in every possible way. In the end, he died from an unidentified hidden arrow during the great battle of male rivalry—and it was a literal arrow fired from concealment.

Yet before the corners of He Jingling’s lips could curve upward, she suddenly met the clear, luminous eyes beside the carriage curtain.

Yan Changjun was bent slightly beneath the carriage roof, staring at her expressionlessly.

She enunciated each word.

“Come here. Help me.”

He Jingling: “?”