Chapter 85: Spicy Pot (Part 11)
Leng Yue was both annoyed and amused as she rapped Jing Yi's forehead with her knuckles, jolting him awake from his drowsy state.
"Mmm..."
"Don't 'mmm' me," Leng Yue set down the bowl in her hand, helped him sit up, and ruffled his fluffy hair twice. "Have you slept yourself stupid? Do you still remember where your family's ancestral graves are?"
"Go east from the city's east gate for about two and a half li, cross through a wheat field, then a cotton field, cross the river, and walk into the small grove for half an incense stick's time."
"..."
Jing Yi answered with such seriousness and fluency that Leng Yue almost didn't want to talk to him anymore.
But Jing Yi lifted his innocent and harmless face, speaking even more earnestly, "Really... if you don't believe me, go see for yourself. The grave planted with daylilies belongs to my great-grandfather..."
"..."
Jing Yi blinked his bloodshot eyes, gazing intently at Leng Yue whose lips were trembling slightly. "Do you want to know why daylilies are planted on my great-grandfather's grave?"
"...No."
Leng Yue thought that for a family that treated sacrificial offerings as regular meals, planting daylilies on ancestral graves needed no particular explanation.
For a moment, Leng Yue felt somewhat relieved that she was no longer this family's daughter-in-law.
The most traditional yet effective way to shut someone up had always been to put something in their mouth. So Leng Yue sat down on the bedside, picked up the bowl filled with warm pumpkin millet porridge, and had just stirred it twice with a spoon when the person she hadn't yet managed to silence spoke again.
"This porridge... where did it come from?"
"Definitely not dug up from your family's ancestral graves."
"..."
Leng Yue felt slightly better, somewhat cheerfully scooping up half a spoonful of porridge and bringing it to Jing Yi's lips. However, the man pressed his pale lips together and turned his head away.
As Jing Yi turned his head, his slightly open collar revealed two prominent collarbones. The recent hardships had left him looking almost too frail for his clothes.
Leng Yue ultimately couldn't bring herself to bully him at this moment and said helplessly, "Just eat it, don't worry. I didn't cook it - it won't kill you."
She still had some self-awareness. Her cooking might be tolerable for healthy people, but Jing Yi had been vomiting desperately all night. If he had another bowl of her porridge, his grave would probably be covered with daylilies by this time next year.
Jing Yi still didn't seem entirely satisfied with this answer. "Then who cooked it..."
"Your family's cook made it, and I watched him do it." Leng Yue said patiently. "I told the steward I was hungry after being up all night. After all, I'm someone the Crown Prince hired to help him - he wouldn't even deny me breakfast, would he?" As she spoke, she brought the spoon to Jing Yi's lips again. "Will you honor me by taking a bite now?"
Jing Yi actually took one bite. When Leng Yue brought the spoon to his lips a second time, he turned his head away again, refusing to open his mouth.
Leng Yue frowned slightly, skeptically bringing the bowl to her nose to smell it, murmuring to herself, "I didn't cook this one - could it really be that bad?"
Jing Yi shook his head. "It's not bad..."
Leng Yue rolled her eyes in annoyance. "If it's not bad, then why won't you eat?"
"You eat it."Leng Yue was momentarily stunned, then suddenly realized from the concerned look in Jing Yi's eyes that he must have taken her earlier comment about being hungry seriously. He was afraid of taking food from her, worried she might go hungry—and with it, the little one growing inside her...
A warmth spread through Leng Yue’s heart, softening into a sweet smile at the corners of her lips. "You eat. I’ll have plenty to eat later when I go out. I won’t fight you for it."
Jing Yi still turned his head away, refusing to open his mouth.
Normally, she would have insisted and made him eat, no matter what. But now, Jing Yi lay weakly against the headboard, pale as paper, with bruises from being force-fed alcohol still purpling the corner of his mouth. Leng Yue couldn’t bring herself to press him. Instead, she took a bite herself.
“Mmm… Is this better?”
Jing Yi shook his head again, his gaze lowering gently toward Leng Yue’s abdomen. “And his share, too…”
Leng Yue knew that if they kept arguing, she would be the one to give in eventually. Besides, the porridge would get cold if they delayed any longer. Reluctantly, she took another bite. Only then did Jing Yi finally open his mouth obediently.
And so it went—she ate two mouthfuls for every one he took. By the time the bowl was empty, Jing Yi had eaten only about a third of it.
Leng Yue worriedly touched Jing Yi’s still-flat stomach. “Is this enough for you?”
Even if Jing Yi usually ate very little, Leng Yue found it hard to believe such a small amount could fill a grown man who hadn’t had a proper meal in so long. Yet Jing Yi nodded, looking perfectly content.
No matter how much he ate, in a few hours, it would all be vomited up again. Rather than waste the food himself, it was better to let her have a little more on this bitterly cold morning, to warm her from the inside.
This winter was truly too harsh…
Leng Yue had no idea what was going through his mind. Setting down the bowl, she sighed softly and listened carefully for any movement outside. Once sure no one was eavesdropping, she lowered her voice. “I have to leave soon. But before I go, there’s something I need to ask you.”
Jing Yi paused for a moment, pursed his lips slightly, and replied as if he’d already guessed, “My great-grandfather had yellow daylilies planted all over his grave because that’s what my great-grandmother was gathering in the woods when he first met her.”
“…That’s not what I was going to ask.”
As curious as she was about why his great-grandmother had been gathering daylilies in the woods, Leng Yue had a more pressing question. “Do you remember what happened on the day the Late Emperor passed away?”
Jing Yi froze, his eyes widening abruptly. His head, which had been resting loosely against the soft pillow, stiffened. His voice dropped to a whisper, trembling faintly. “You… you’re here to investigate that?”
“What else?” Leng Yue shot him a full, exasperated eye-roll, glancing pointedly at the innocent empty bowl. “Did you really think I was the Food-Delivery Goddess of Mercy, here just to drop off a meal and leave?”
Far from putting him at ease, her words made Jing Yi’s head throb even more intensely. He couldn’t help but furrow his brow tightly. “Did the Prince send you?”
Leng Yue was taken aback. “I discussed it with the Crown Prince. Didn’t you know the Prince has left the capital?”
Jing Yi looked even more stunned than she had. “I knew… It’s been over half a month. He hasn’t returned yet?”Leng Yue shook her head. After all, it wasn’t the first or second time Prince An had secretly traveled to handle cases since taking charge of judicial affairs in the court. Although there had never been a situation where he was away from the capital for so long without any news, this time he had gone out with Xue Rucheng—the man who had taught him to read and write as a child and later instructed him in investigating and solving cases—and Wu Jiang, the captain of the An Manor guards. No matter how she thought about it, the mess in the capital was more worrying.
"My second sister makes a valid point," Leng Yue said, looking at Jing Yi, who seemed inexplicably worried. Assuming he was concerned that no one was managing the capital’s troubles, she spoke softly but swiftly. "Before the truth of this case comes to light, it cannot be exposed. Even if the prince were in the capital, he wouldn’t be able to intervene in this matter... Even the Crown Prince admits that this is the best approach for now. After last night’s incident, Prince Hui and his faction have been temporarily deceived by us. As long as we uncover evidence of their regicide before they realize what’s happening, this case can be resolved peacefully."
As Leng Yue spoke, her tone was firm and composed. Though her voice was soft, each word carried weight. Her finely shaped brows held a heroic spirit rarely seen in ordinary women.
Ever since the women in the capital learned that the fourth young master Jing was determined to marry someone from a military family skilled in swordsmanship, many had quietly taken up sword practice. But no matter how much they trained, in Jing Yi’s eyes, they only mimicked the form without the essence.
Jing Yi had practiced qinggong (lightness skill) but never touched any lethal weapons. He had always felt that a sword in others’ hands was either for display or for killing, but in Leng Yue’s hands, it was for saving lives. A life-saving sword naturally carried a righteous and bold spirit—something that could never be learned by merely copying a few poses.
However, Jing Yi never imagined that one day he would wish she had never possessed such boldness.
With a bitter smile, Jing Yi leaned his throbbing head back against the soft cushion and shook it slightly. "This isn’t a case..."
"If it involves murder and arson, what else could it be?"
"It’s politics."
Perhaps because Jing Yi was physically weak and spoke with little energy, as these four words slowly left his lips, Leng Yue faintly detected a trace of helplessness in his tone.
Leng Yue was momentarily stunned, then nodded.
"You’re not wrong to say that. The root of this matter indeed lies in the court. Even if we clarify everything, we can’t handle it like ordinary cases—imprisoning the guilty and executing the condemned. The guilty will resent you, the innocent will distrust you. You’ll exert effort without gaining any goodwill, and in the end, you might even lose your life. It really isn’t worth it..."
Given Leng Yue’s understanding of court politics, Jing Yi was content that she had such awareness.
Jing Yi had just nodded gently when Leng Yue continued, "But I never intended to unravel everything about this mess. These troubles are for officials like you to manage. I don’t receive a salary from the court, nor do I bother with such idle concerns. I just want the father of the child in my womb to live, and for his entire family to live as well."
Leng Yue lowered her slender neck and gazed at her flat abdomen. The once firm, almost cold determination in her eyes instantly softened into tenderness. "Whether his father wants me or not, this child will still bear the Jing surname. I can’t teach him those annoying Jing family quirks, but without those quirks, he’d be unworthy of the name..."Jing Yi’s gaze flickered, but Leng Yue gave him no chance to speak. Lifting her chin, she continued in a low voice, “Besides, I know the flaws of you officials—sometimes you’re even more ruthless than us martial artists. Even if the Crown Prince willingly gives up that throne now, those who deserve to die and those who don’t will still die. Right now, this is the only method worth trying. Even if I have to…”
She paused here, as if suddenly forgetting something, hesitating briefly before continuing with a hint of uncertainty, “Even if I have to… sell everything I own, I must try it.”
Jing Yi remained motionless, silently watching Leng Yue for a long moment. His lips parted soundlessly twice before he finally made up his mind and softly uttered, “You meant ‘burning one’s boats,’ didn’t you…?”
Leng Yue’s resolute yet gentle expression stiffened abruptly, her fair forehead darkening with frustration. “...Anyway, you get the idea, don’t you?!”
Before she could finish yelling at him, Jing Yi offered a weak but tender, spring-like smile. Propping up his half-reclining body against the headboard, he reached out and pulled the fuming Leng Yue into his embrace. Stroking her slightly rigid back, he whispered gently by her ear, “I understand everything… I’m sorry you’ve had to endure so much…”
Jing Yi was still too weak to exert much force, and Leng Yue could have easily broken free. Yet that single word—“understand”—seemed laced with some strange potency, dissolving the last trace of resentment in her heart the moment it reached her ears.
Leng Yue lay quietly in his arms, allowing him to soothe her shoulders and back with a touch tinged with apology, easing every tense and stiff inch of her body into relaxation. After a long while, she finally spoke, “Then… will you help me?”
“Yes.”
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