Chapter 5
Chapter 5
Si Yan’s hand froze in midair, still holding the spoon.
If she had not had that dream, she might have accepted the escape he offered.
He had volunteered to let her go. Why wouldn’t she put down the pendant and run?
Only a fool would stay another second.
But she did not run.
She set the spoon in the bowl and leaned closer, almost pressing against his side.
“Who said I wanted to break off our engagement?”
She raised her face. Tears still clung to her lashes, but hurt had given way to anger.
Jiang Youze slowly turned toward her. A trace of astonishment appeared in his still eyes.
“You don’t want to?”
Si Yan shook her head firmly, no lie in her eyes. “I don’t.”
“The Jiang family is gone.”
He was no longer the admired second son of the Jiangs, a man of such noble, unclouded grace.
No longer the examination champion who had ridden through the streets while the whole city vied for a glimpse.
He was a prisoner. Worse, he was…
His fists tightened. He lowered his head to look at the dried blood on his prison trousers.
That blood had flowed from his body, taking far more than a piece of his flesh with it.
It had taken all the pride, dignity, and promise of his seventeen years, and his right to stand before her and say, “I’ll marry you.”
His throat worked several times. His voice was so hoarse it was barely audible.
“…I’m a eunuch.”
The moment he said it, he closed his eyes, his lashes trembling slightly.
He dared not look at her reaction.
He was afraid of seeing disgust on her face, fear in her eyes.
More afraid still that those words would finally make her resolve to break off the engagement.
Even though he had just told her himself, “I’ll agree to end the engagement.”
As long as she had not left, as long as the pendant still hung at her waist,
a voice inside him kept crying, base and greedy and relentless: he did not want her to go.
“I know.”
Si Yan scooped up another spoonful of soup and brought it forward until it touched his cracked lips.
“But I also know you’re my fiancé.”
Jiang Youze stared at her for several seconds. He had known that face since childhood. He knew every expression it could make.
He knew when she was lying, when she was sulking, when she was wheedling, and when she was serious.
Right now, that face was serious.
Suddenly, he gave a low laugh.
He shook all over with it. Even when it pulled at his wound, he did not stop. His eyes were frighteningly red.
At last, something different stirred in those eyes that had been so still they were almost lifeless.
His pain.
“Si Yan, look at me. Prison clothes, shackles, half dead.”
He tipped his head back until it rested against the moldy wall. His throat worked hard.
“And you call me your fiancé?”
Si Yan bit her lip. Her voice caught with tears. “Then… don’t you want me anymore?”
All he had to do was say yes, and she would put down the pendant and walk away without a backward glance.
She meant it!
He was the one who had written her that letter in blood to end the engagement!
He was the one who had rejected her first!
She had already tried to keep him and put the choice in his hands. If he did not want her, she would owe him nothing.
Even Heaven itself could not accuse her of wronging him.
Even that Lord Jiuqiansui from her dream would have no grounds to take revenge on her.
But he said nothing.
Jiang Youze simply leaned against the wall and watched her, his breathing growing heavy and rapid.
His eyes were so red they looked ready to bleed, yet he could not force out a single word.
He crushed the straw in his hand to fragments, which sifted down between his fingers.
Say yes.
Say he did not want her.
Once he said it, she would be free. He could give up on himself. He could rot in peace in this cell.
Say it.
Open his mouth. Press his tongue to the roof of it. One sound would settle everything.
But he could not open his mouth.
Not want her?
He wanted her so badly he was almost mad with it. Wanted her until his very heart had taken her shape.
But how could he have her now?
He had nothing to offer.
As a eunuch, how could he marry her? Protect her? Give her a home?
He could not even protect his own ruined body. How could he shelter her from wind and rain?
He could not even carry on his family line. How could he be her husband?
If a moment’s pity led her to marry him, what would become of her afterward?
Day after day beside an incomplete man, with everyone pointing and whispering.
She was so proud. How could she bear it?
He was not afraid of her disgust. He was afraid she would regret it one day.
But to open his mouth and say he did not want her…
He could not say it.
Even the thought hurt so much his fingertips trembled.
He had already lost everything. His family, his future, even the wholeness of his body. He could hold on to nothing.
Only she remained.
If she left too, he would truly have nothing left.
He could not say he did not want her, because it would be a lie.
Still less could he say he wanted her, because he had no right.
So he could only remain silent.
“Miss Si, your time’s almost up. Come out.”
The guard’s voice came through the iron door. Keys jingled as he tossed them in his hand.
“Yes. Just a moment.”
Si Yan set down the soup and picked up her handkerchief to wipe the tears from her face.
When she looked up, she caught a flicker of reluctance to part in Jiang Youze’s eyes.
It vanished so quickly it might have been her imagination.
She untied the purse at her waist, pushed it into his hand, and closed her own firmly over it.
“Brother Youze, these are banknotes I’ve been saving for a long time. I pawned a lot of jewelry to make up the rest. When you enter the palace, use them to get a good posting.”
Lowering her voice, she leaned close and told him everything she had learned.
Jiang Youze listened with a deepening frown, then looked down at the purse in his hand.
It was made of fine cloud brocade, embroidered with twin lotuses. The tiny, close stitches were unmistakably hers.
The purse bulged. When he squeezed it, the thickness of the banknotes inside made his fingertips go numb.
Had the fever addled her senses? She had actually pawned all her jewelry?
No one knew better than he did how much this girl loved pretty things.
Once, she had talked to him for half a month about a single filigree gold hairpin.
He had teased her by pretending not to hear.
She had glared at him, cheeks puffed in anger, until he could no longer keep a straight face and laughed.
In the end, he had sent someone to bring it from Jiangnan before she could be coaxed out of her sulk.
Now she said she had pawned everything to buy him a little influence.
Outside, the guard called again, more urgently this time.
Si Yan knew she could stay no longer. She rose, a ring of straw fragments clinging to her skirts.
She took off her cloak and draped it over him, drew the collar together, and fastened the ties.
“It gets cold at night. Take care of yourself.”
Her fingertips accidentally brushed his chin. The new stubble prickled faintly against their pads.
“Keep these things safe. Hide the silver well. Don’t let anyone steal it.”
At the cell door she looked back, her tearful eyes reluctant to leave him.
“Brother Youze, I’ll wait for you.”
Without waiting for his answer, she lifted her skirts and ran out of the prison.
Her footsteps receded down the passage, mingling with the sound of the guard closing and locking the door.
Jiang Youze sat against the moldy wall, his eyes still fixed on the place where she had disappeared.
He tightened his grip on the purse, crushing deep creases into the cloud brocade.
The scent of osmanthus hair oil lingering on the cloak still curled beneath his nose, so sweet it made his throat tighten.
Wait for him?
He was like this now. What was she still waiting for?
Did she not understand that her promise to wait might mean a lifetime?
Until black hair turned white, until beauty became bare bones, until all that remained was an empty grave?