Yang Wan’s eyes suddenly reddened. She quickly tilted her head back, clearing her slightly itchy throat, “So what do you think about it?”
“The imperial palace and inner court contain my teacher’s life’s work, as well as forty-some years of spring and autumn from generations of craftsmen. I was fortunate to participate in this project, and I want to see it through to completion.”
Yang Wan laughed, “I knew the Ming History was wrong – what nonsense they wrote.”
“What did Miss say?”
“Nothing.”
Yang Wan forced herself to calm down, “I just think you should be more open-minded. No matter how good a person you are, what difference does it make? They still say what they want to say, write what they want to write.”
Deng Ying didn’t respond to Yang Wan’s words, instead asking her, “Is Miss no longer angry?”
“Huh?”
Yang Wan was startled – so he had said all those words because he thought she was angry.
“I wasn’t really angry to begin with.”
“May Deng Ying ask Miss a question?”
“Ask away. Whatever you ask, I’ll answer truthfully.”
“Why does Miss stay here?”
“I’m warming myself by the fire…”
“Miss said she would speak truthfully.”
The truth was that he was the existence that had consumed her ten years of youth, more important to her than any man.
Of course, she couldn’t say it so directly now, but after hesitating for a while, she still decided to answer honestly. The usual patterns in time-travel stories didn’t mean much, after all – she neither expected nor could have anything happen with Deng Ying.
“I don’t know how to tell you. Just consider that I live for you…”
After speaking, she tilted her head back to look at the water droplets condensed on the ceiling beams, “Do you want to sleep for a while? If not, I can chat with you.”
“I don’t want to.”
His answer brought Yang Wan genuine joy.
She cleared her throat, “Alright then, listen well. I… used to live for you. My parents often said I was of marriageable age and shouldn’t spend every day thinking about your matters, that you couldn’t possibly know who I was, and couldn’t possibly truly accompany me for life. They introduced me to a man who was good in both character and appearance, but I refused.”
As she said this, she tucked her hair behind her ear.
“On my birthday last year, I was still reading an article you wrote when you were seventeen or eighteen, ‘A Letter to Zixie at Year’s End.’ You remember it, right? The letter you wrote to Yang Lun. Oh right, how old were you exactly when you wrote that letter?”
“Wrote it in the fourth year of Zhenning, at sixteen.”
“Mm, I’ve read that article over a hundred times. In it you wrote, ‘With a literary heart I make this vow, unchanging for life, sharing it with you for mutual encouragement.’ I especially love that line. Each time I read it, I’m convinced my initial thoughts about you weren’t wrong. If they asked me to give you up, I feel my previous ten years would have no meaning at all. So what does it matter what others say? I don’t care anyway.”
Speaking to her research subject about her initial academic passion – this was probably an experience no history PhD could enjoy. Yang Wan spoke with increasing seriousness, immersed in a pure, unworldly desire to express herself.
However, what Deng Ying understood was something entirely different – it was a kind of affection he absolutely couldn’t bear at that moment. Yet simultaneously, he felt a cruel warmth in these words, like a fire-tempered blade cutting flesh, lifting skin and meat. He felt pain, but nothing else around him had the same temperature.
“So… you don’t want to marry Zhang Luo?”
“Zhang Luo?”
This name was quite familiar to Yang Wan, “Zhang Luo, the Northern Commander of the Imperial Guard? I…”
Before she could finish speaking, a blinding light suddenly pierced through the hole in the paper window that Deng Ying had torn, and Yang Wan quickly raised her arm to shield her eyes.
Li Shan’s voice came from outside, “Lord Yang, this is the only place we haven’t searched?”
Yang Lun stood in the snow, looking at the torture chamber before him, suddenly feeling a chill rise from the depths of his heart.
His once best friend was inside, and if Yang Wan weren’t in there too, his expression standing here would certainly not be what it was now.
He didn’t answer Li Shan, instead raising his head to shout inside: “Yang Wan!”
Yang Wan shot to her feet at this shout – she had only told her name to Deng Ying, how did this person outside know it?
“Yang Wan, listen well – come out on your own. If I have to come get you, I’ll break your legs!”
Now Yang Wan was completely confused. Knowing her name was one thing, but why suddenly threaten to break her legs?
She unconsciously looked toward Deng Ying, “Do… do you know who’s outside?”
Deng Ying recognized Yang Lun’s voice, and though he didn’t understand why Yang Wan couldn’t recognize it, he still answered: “Your brother, Yang Lun.”
“Wait, Yang Lun? My brother?”
Yang Wan looked up toward the window, quickly reviewing the historical relationships of this period in her mind.
Yang Lun was a cabinet minister during the Jinghe period, and in the twelfth year of Zhenning, he was still serving in the Ministry of Revenue. He had a sister of the same mother, whose name wasn’t recorded in historical materials – it was only known that Yang Lun had betrothed her to Zhang Luo, the Northern Commander of the Imperial Guard, but she had drowned before the marriage could take place.
So Yang Lun’s sister was named Yang Wan, which meant that her current body… surely not.
Yang Wan held the back of her head, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.
“Yang Wan, I’ll say it one more time – come out on your own!”
Yang Lun’s voice burned with anger.
Yang Wan moved a few steps toward the door, intending to steal a glance at the man, but as soon as she pulled the door open a crack, Yang Lun yanked her out.
Yang Lun was truly furious and, not knowing she was injured, forcefully dragged her several steps. Yang Wan’s neck hurt so much that her whole body trembled. She wanted to break free but didn’t dare move rashly, and thus was practically dragged by Yang Lun until she fell in the snow.
Seeing this scene, Li Shan hurriedly dispersed the people around and personally came forward to advise, “Lord Yang, better let the young lady go inside to check if she’s injured anywhere.”
Yang Lun looked at Yang Wan sprawled in the snow, unable to get up – her hair completely disheveled, her clothes in tatters, appearing to be scratched and bruised all over.
He wanted to lift her but had to restrain himself.
“Do you know who’s inside? Huh?”
Yang Wan managed to sit up, tucking her frozen red hands into her chest, quickly glancing at Yang Lun.
This man had an upright bearing, with sharp jawlines that suggested he rarely smiled, but he was indeed graceful and handsome as recorded in historical materials.
“Speak!”
Yang Wan was startled with a shiver.
Well, he was handsome indeed, just with a terrible temper.
“I do know…”
“If you know, then why disgrace yourself!”
Although Yang Wan understood clearly that Deng Ying was taboo in the twelfth year of Zhenning, that was merely an expression in documents – people from another era could only understand the political despair, hardly feeling the fear within human nature.
But Yang Lun’s phrase “disgrace yourself” left Yang Wan stunned.
That was once Deng Ying’s best friend. Yang Wan looked at the door of the torture chamber – the wind and snow were quite strong now, battering the door she hadn’t had time to close when she left, making “bang bang bang” sounds. She wondered if the person inside had heard those words “disgrace yourself.”
Yang Lun was angered that she dared to be lost in thought at this moment and shouted furiously: “Do you know how many people from Tongjia Academy were arrested because of him? Even Father’s teacher Zhou Congshan, over eighty years old, is being tortured in the imperial prison. When Zhang Luo returns from the south, even if these people don’t lose their heads, their official careers are completely ruined. Do you know why? Because some of them wrote a fu-poem pleading for Deng Ying! Look at yourself – sacrificing your reputation as a Yang family daughter, disregarding our entire family’s lives. I didn’t believe you would do such a thing before. Now I truly regret coming to find you – should have let you die in…”
Yang Lun’s fury made him speak cruel words, and when he realized it, the most vicious words had already left his mouth. His mind buzzed, filled with irretrievable regret but not knowing how to take it back.