Zhang Luo continued in a cold voice, looking at him, “Deng Fu Ling, you’re the only person from the Ceremonial Office to leave prison alive and return to your post. With He Yixian dead, you’ve become everyone’s target. At this moment, even the slightest crime could put you in mortal danger.”
Deng Ying pressed his wrist and lowered his head, “I bear a hundred crimes; the Liuli Factory case isn’t worth the Inner Cabinet’s discussion.”
“So you don’t care?”
“I do care.”
“About what?”
“About living a few more days outside.”
“Fine.”
Zhang Luo lifted his robe and stepped behind the desk, “I won’t delay you.”
The western gate of the Command was opened, and the fragrance of sugar-roasted chestnuts wafted toward Deng Ying.
The chestnut vendor cheerfully said to a woman standing on tiptoe to look into the pot, “Young lady, don’t be so impatient, wait a bit longer. The timing isn’t right yet; they won’t be sweet enough.”
“How much longer?”
The speaking woman wore simple clothes—a cross-collared jacket and horse-face skirt, with blue cloth binding her hair.
“Wan Wan.”
“Ah?”
Yang Wan looked up at Deng Ying with some surprise, then smiled self-mockingly, “I wanted to buy you chestnuts, but they’re taking forever to roast.”
“You always like to buy me food.”
“What else then?”
Yang Wan walked toward him as she spoke, “I like watching you eat. You’re very serious when you eat, and sometimes you even smile.”
As she was speaking, the vendor called from behind, “Young lady, the chestnuts are ready.”
Yang Wan quickly turned around, “Coming right away.”
She finished speaking and grabbed Deng Ying’s hand, “Does it hurt your wrist when I pull you like this?”
“No.”
“Then come with me.”
She no longer deliberately held Deng Ying’s wrist as she had in the past, but naturally interlocked her fingers with his.
Compared to Deng Ying, Yang Wan’s hand was very warm. This sensation suddenly reminded Deng Ying of the night before his torture, when he had pushed open the window of the torture chamber, hoping for someone warmer than himself to appear. And she had truly appeared, and because of her, he had almost found peace with his entire tragic life.
“How much for two packages?”
Yang Wan asked loudly.
The vendor looked at Deng Ying and smiled, “Why don’t you ask?”
“Oh…”
Deng Ying was somewhat embarrassed, “How much…”
“He has no money.”
“What?”
The vendor looked up in surprise, but the young man before him smiled shyly and admitted frankly, “Yes, I have no money.”
Yang Wan lowered her head and took out half a string of cash from her sleeve.
“Is this enough?”
“Yes, yes, plenty.”
Yang Wan took Deng Ying’s arm, “Look which package you want.”
Deng Ying lowered his head, “Either is fine.”
“Alright.”
Yang Wan bent down to pick up both packages and handed them to Deng Ying, “Hold these while I pay.”
The vendor watched the two of them with a silent smile.
“Come on, Deng Ying, let’s go home.”
Yang Wan finished speaking and took the chestnuts from Deng Ying’s hands.
“Wan Wan, you peel and eat them, I’ll carry them.”
“Doesn’t your hand hurt?”
She turned her back, “Just follow me.”
“Where are we going?”
“Home.”
Deng Ying stopped walking, “The palace curfew is almost here.”
Yang Wan turned around holding the chestnuts, looked up at Deng Ying, and said, “There’s something I forgot to tell you.”