Xie Chichun - Chapter 31

Tang Lingjun moved faster, reaching Xie Xuan first and thrusting the skewered turtledove toward her. “Here, freshly roasted and f
ragrant—guaranteed to make you want a second one. Seasoned just right, so don’t worry.”

Behind him, Han Jie approached swiftly. “Xuanxuan, try this one. Crispy outside, tender inside—just how you like it.”

Two tantalizing turtledoves dangled before her. Xie Xuan’s stomach growled, but she refused Han Jie’s offering and reached for Tang Lingjun’s instead. Suddenly, Han Jie bent down and gripped her wrist, stopping her—

“That one’s loaded with mustard. No one should eat it.”

Huh? Xie Xuan glanced at Tang Lingjun, catching the mischievous glint in his eyes. So he had laced it with mustard.

Still a troublemaker, nothing like a hero’s son! She turned away, pulling Xie Jun to her feet. Han Jie, undeterred, extended his skewer again. “Won’t you try it?”

“My sister and I will roast our own.” Xie Xuan pouted, dragging Xie Jun to the fire, where Han Caiyi guided them in self-sufficient cooking.

Left behind, Han Jie and Tang Lingjun stood awkwardly holding their skewers. Ever the prankster, Tang Lingjun eyed the mustard-coated bird, plotting to trick some unsuspecting child into eating it. Han Jie, as if reading his mind, flicked his wrist—his skewer, still impaled on its wire, shot out and embedded itself in a tree trunk, the meat quivering enticingly.

Tang Lingjun froze. By the time he recovered, Han Jie had seized his skewer with one hand and clamped the other around his neck, forcing the mustard-slathered turtledove toward his mouth.

Of course, Tang Lingjun clenched his teeth, struggling to break free.
But Han Jie, older and stronger, held him in an iron grip. Desperate, Tang Lingjun kicked out. Han Jie countered, their upper bodies locked while their legs tangled in a flurry of flying leaves and dust—rendering the turtledove inedible.

Han Caiyi, delighted, handed her skewer to Xie Xuan and cheered them on, laughing uncontrollably.

Fortunately, Tang Lingjun was no pushover. Years of mischief had honed his reflexes, and after a fierce scuffle, he forced Han Jie to release him. Seizing the chance, he bolted with a yelp, circling back to the fire to start anew.

Han Jie let him go, chuckling as he retrieved his own intact skewer and took a leisurely bite.

The tranquil waters of Yu Lake mirrored the colorful lanterns strung along its willow-lined shores, transforming the night into a kaleidoscope of light. Fish, rabbits, eagles, tigers, peonies, plum blossoms—each lantern was a masterpiece, rivaling the splendor of the Lunar New Year.

Under a clear sky studded with stars, bonfires dotted the lakeside, their glow rivaling the moon. Emperor Yuanjing, seated on a high platform with the empress and his consorts, overlooked the festivities. Noblewomen clustered nearby, savoring fruits and pastries while watching dancers weave between the flames.

The music of strings and pipes drifted across the water, perfectly audible from the shore.

Xie Xuan and Han Caiyi strolled hand in hand, followed by Xie Jun and Xie Jiu admiring the lanterns—Xie Shan, exhausted from the day, had stayed behind. With Lady Yue occupied alongside the Marchioness of Jingchuan, the sisters were left to their own devices.

Given the late hour, the emperor had stationed guards along the lake to prevent accidents. Though men and women mingled freely, no one dared misbehave under the imperial gaze.

Across the way, Han Jie and Tang Lingjun approached. The latter grinned conspiratorially. “It’s too crowded here. Want to see something better?”

“Where?” Caiyi perked up.

“Jiaotai Hall, south side. Same view as the emperor’s platform, minus the jostling—and these human lampposts.” He jerked a thumb at the guards.

Han Jie, one such “lamppost” on occasion, nodded impassively.

Xie Xuan hesitated. “Is that allowed?”

“It’s fine,” Han Jie assured. “The hall’s rarely used. As long as we’re quiet, no one will mind.”

She scanned the group—Tang Lingjun, Han Jie, Caiyi, Xie Jun, Xie Jiu, plus three maids. Aside from Tang Lingjun, all were trustworthy. And as for him…

Noticing her skepticism, Tang Lingjun crossed his heart. “I’ll behave. What’s there to fear?”

He’ll behave? Xie Xuan nearly laughed. Before she could retort, Han Jie added, “Once the boats start, the shore will get chaotic. Jiaotai Hall’s the best vantage point.”

His insistence struck her as odd—almost as if he wanted her away from the lake.

She glanced at Xie Jun, who nodded. “If they recommend it, let’s go.” Caiyi was already tugging her forward, and Xie Jiu looked eager. With a shrug, Xie Xuan followed.

The view from the hall’s jade-railed terrace was breathtaking.

Lanterns cascaded along the shore, their reflections dancing on the lake alongside stars and moonlight. The group dispersed, exploring the hall’s nooks with childlike wonder.

But the elevated space was windier. Xie Xuan, who’d forgone a cloak, shivered as the autumn breeze nipped at her shoulders. She leaned against the marble railing, only to recoil from its chill.

Suddenly, warmth enveloped her. Han Jie had stepped behind her, his cloak billowing like a shield against the wind.

She tried to ignore him, but his presence was undeniable. When she turned to leave, she collided with his chest.

Han Jie braced his arms against the railing, his cloak forming a private canopy. Bathed in distant lantern light, his face was all sharp angles and quiet intensity—handsomer than any noble in the capital.

But so what? Jade-like he may be, but he’s no good man.

“Brother YuJie,” she said coolly, “please step aside.”

“You’re still avoiding me.” He bent to her eye level. “Still angry.”

“Why would I be? I just want to explore.” She averted her gaze.

“Ah.” His voice dropped. “But I don’t want to let you go.” No playful tease, just raw sincerity.

His breath grazed her cheek. She could feel him holding back—whether words or actions, she wasn’t sure.

Their eyes locked. Han Jie studied her with that familiar, unreadable smile, the one he’d worn in their past life whenever she’d been lost in thought.

Slowly, inexplicably, heat crept up her neck.

Biting her lip, she pushed against his arm. “Let me go.”

Xuanxuan, if I’ve wronged you in the past, I’ll repent and atone. Han Jie bent down, his voice a low murmur by her ear. You were my wife, betrothed by our grandfathers. Even if my father agreed to annul it, my grandfather never did—it should still stand. His breath warmed her skin as he added, I’ll protect you as you grow up, until the day you marry into the Han family. I’ll treat you well, better than anyone else.

The phrase “repent and atone” flickered through Xie Xuan like a spark, but the words “marry into the Han family” reignited the fury of her rebirth, boiling up uncontrollably.

Marry into the Han family? To live without a husband, only that mother-in-law?

She lowered her voice to a venomous whisper. Han YuJie, what makes you think I’d ever willingly step into your household? Yes, I enjoy playing with Caiyi, but the Han family’s threshold? I wouldn’t cross it even half a step!

Han Jie stiffened. She’d called him “Han YuJie”—not “Brother YuJie,” not even the teasing “Han Er” from their past life. This was the full-name address she reserved for true, icy rage.

But what shocked him more was her rejection of the Han family itself.

She still adored Caiyi, yet loathed the Han household? Had someone besides his own wretched, hell-deserving self wronged her in their past life?

He opened his mouth to press further, but Xie Xuan—realizing her slip—ducked under his outstretched arm, swift as a fleeing cub.

From the terrace, Xie Xuan’s gaze snagged on the lake below. A dozen pleasure boats drifted under the moonlight, their lanterns glinting like scattered jewels—until movement erupted.

Girls leaned precariously from one vessel, pointing at a lone barge near the center. Water frothed around it, a dark shape struggling beneath the surface.

Someone fell in.

Her breath hitched. Emperor Yuanjing’s banquet precautions were thorough: each boat had guards to prevent accidents. Yet no rescuers surged from that barge. Nearby vessels’ guards dove in, but in the frenzy, another girl toppled overboard.

What’s happening? Xie Jun and Caiyi rushed to the railing.

As guards fished out three drenched figures, Han Jie’s voice cut through: Lingjun. He gripped the younger man’s shoulder. Take the Xie sisters and Caiyi back. Now. If anyone asks, we saw nothing.

His urgency brooked no argument. Tang Lingjun shepherded them away while Han Jie vaulted down the steps toward the lake.

Back in their quarters, Xie Xuan cornered Xie Jun. Did Brother YuJie know this would happen?

Likely. Xie Jun frowned. He warned me earlier to keep you off the boats. Maybe he feared you’d defy him and board one anyway.

Xie Xuan winced. Do I really oppose him that obviously?
Even Caiyi and Third Sister noticed. Xie Jun chuckled. I told them it was post-annulment awkwardness.

Their conversation halted as Lady Yue stormed in, quizzing them about the incident. Xie Jun and Xuan feigned ignorance, but Xie Jiu—Lady Yue’s biological daughter—coolly backed their alibi: We were touring the southern pavilions. Saw nothing.

Lady Yue relayed the scandal with theatrical dismay. The Emperor is furious!

In the emperor’s chambers, rage thickened the air.

Yuanjing had envisioned this retreat as a display of imperial grace—now it was a humiliation. He berated the Commander of the Azure Guard, Cai Zong, hurling a ledger at the man’s unflinching form.

We stationed guards on every boat! the emperor roared. How could this happen?

Beside Cai Zong, Grand Secretary Guo She murmured placations, but his eyes locked with the Chief Eunuch Feng Ying behind the throne—a silent exchange as sharp as drawn blades.