Chapter 2: Yan Lin Reborn

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Eighteen and a half years old.

Yet this rebirth was neither at the very start of her youth nor after everything had ended.

At fourteen, she had returned to the capital, disguising herself as a young man—a distant cousin from Vice Minister Jiang’s household—and had roamed freely through the city with Yan Lin. In September of her eighteenth year, she was summoned to the palace as a study companion for Grand Princess Leyang. By November, the Yongyi Marquis Manor met disaster.

Jiang Xuening vaguely remembered that throughout her true youth, Yan Lin had always been there.

With him, she had feared nothing.

Yan Lin came from a military family, having spent time at the frontier. He carried a vigor rare among the capital’s youth—fine clothes, spirited horse, sword in hand—always by her side, protecting, cherishing. Had nothing unexpected happened, he would have married her, bringing her home.

But that year, while she was with Yan Lin, she met Prince Linzi—Shen Jie—who came seeking Yan Lin. At the time, she did not know his true identity.

Seeing the refined young man in brocade robes, Yan Lin’s first words had been: “How did you get out?”

Yan Lin’s status? He was the heir of Yongyi Marquis Manor, a noble standing beside the Xiao clan, appointed by the Emperor as hereditary heir. Everyone called him “Young Marquis” with respect. Few people ever received his casual “you.”

Jiang Xuening, ambitious to become Empress, took note. After discreet inquiry, she confirmed Shen Jie was indeed Prince Linzi, and the capital buzzed with rumors that the Emperor, lacking sons, intended to establish Shen Jie as Crown Prince.

What had begun as chance became deliberate.

Later, when the Yongyi Marquis Manor fell, she married Shen Jie. Within two years, the Emperor died, passing the throne to Shen Jie, making her Empress.

Yet Shen Jie, raised in the palace, was mild, indecisive, and too kind. Though capable, he lacked ruthlessness, unable to suppress officials or manage the court. He relied on the newly appointed Grand Tutor Xie Wei to maneuver affairs. In the end, he was poisoned.

By then, Jiang Xuening had been placed under house arrest by Yan Lin and could not see him one last time.

Those too kind cannot rule. This was the lesson Jiang Xuening gleaned from Shen Jie’s tragedy in her previous life.

Now, she had been reborn just after meeting Shen Jie, before their fates became entwined. In this life, she vowed never to enter the palace again. Kunning Palace was her tomb.

The room she occupied was simple yet elegant. The early autumn air was slightly cool. Faint traces of last night’s wine lingered, while distant marketplace noises filtered through the tightly closed windows.

Yan Lin still held his sword. Though youthful, his back and waist already bore the sharp lines of a man in his prime. His lips pressed straight, face unsmiling, exuding a quiet intimidation.

He temporarily ignored Shen Jie, turning to Jiang Xuening with a cold, unyielding voice: “Which hand did he touch you with?”

Jiang Xuening snapped out of the daze brought by her rebirth. The youth’s eyes shone brilliantly, bright and untarnished by the tragedy of the Yan clan or palace intrigues—a blazing sun hanging in the sky.

But the question carried danger: whatever she answered, Shen Jie’s hand might pay the price. Cold sweat beaded on her forehead. She grabbed Yan Lin’s arm: “No! Nothing happened! It’s a misunderstanding. I had a nightmare, and when I woke, I mistook Young Master Shen. I struck him in panic. Please, put your sword down—don’t hurt anyone!”

Yan Lin frowned. “Really?”

Shen Jie cursed his luck inwardly. Yan Lin was a friend of Young Master Jiang, and though their social standings differed greatly, making an issue of one slap would be ungentlemanly. Yet Yan Lin’s expression made it impossible to tell whether to laugh or cry.

“Don’t trust my character? Even if I offended, would you really cut off my hand?” Shen Jie asked silently.

He was Imperial Prince Linzi. Noble. Yet Yan Lin’s answer was unhesitating: “I would.”

Shen Jie’s eyelids twitched. But Yan Lin’s gaze shifted to Jiang Xuening, voice softening like melting snow: “Are you alright? You drank heavily last night. Shall I escort you back to the manor?”

Hearing “I would,” Jiang Xuening recalled her past life—after Yan Lin pledged to Xie Wei, together they hollowed Shen Jie’s power, poisoning him. Perhaps not entirely Yan Lin’s doing, yet her heart stirred at the rare sincerity in his devotion.

A youth’s whole-hearted affection—clumsy yet unwavering—was precious. Yet she felt undeserving.

Jiang Xuening stared, momentarily speechless.

Shen Jie then spoke: “Master Xie is giving a lecture at Wenhua Hall. Shouldn’t you enter the palace with me, Yan Lin?”

Her thoughts scrambled. Naturally, she should return to the manor. Yet, reborn, she was unwilling. Willful and pampered, half from her father’s indulgence, half from Yan Lin’s care, she insisted: “Matters at the palace cannot be delayed. I will return on my own today.”

Yan Lin, accustomed to her temperament, did not question. “Then I’ll have Qingfeng follow discreetly.”

She nodded, suppressing her thoughts.

Shen Jie, observant, noticed something off in their dynamic. A naturally gentle, good-tempered man, he smiled politely, yet could not ignore Yan Lin’s subtle dominance.

Jiang Xuening, contrite, said softly: “My apologies for striking Young Master Shen. Another day, I will host a banquet to apologize properly.”

Shen Jie smiled. “Your hand wasn’t heavy. I will wait for Young Master Jiang’s banquet.”

Yan Lin’s expression darkened, though he remained calm. Giving Qingfeng a few instructions, he led Shen Jie toward the palace.

During the journey, Shen Jie recalled the morning’s events—Yan Lin had drawn his sword against him, protecting Jiang Xuening. The youth was slender, exceptionally striking.

Concerned, Shen Jie said: “Yan Lin, though some literati favor men’s affections, and Young Master Jiang is handsome, you are the heir of Yongyi Marquis Manor. In the future, regarding marriage…”

Riding parallel to Shen Jie’s carriage, Yan Lin’s face darkened: “Your Highness, I don’t love men.”

Shen Jie blinked, confused. “Then regarding Young Master Jiang?”

“She is not some Young Master Jiang.”

Yan Lin, recalling her glance earlier, clarified: “She is the second young lady of the Jiang family. She loves prosperity and freedom, so I bring her out. Your Highness treats me as a brother. I tell you her identity so you may maintain propriety and avoid this morning’s fright.”

Shen Jie nodded, realizing the wisdom behind Yan Lin’s words.

Yan Lin’s sharp eyes softened with a small smile: “I spoiled her, so naturally, I will be the one to marry her.”

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