Volume One, Chapter Two: The Former Fiancé

Song Jiayin drew a deep breath. Her long-dormant heart miraculously stirred, as if awakened by an unseen force.

Struggling to her knees, she prepared to receive another pivotal figure of the Great Zhou imperial house: Song Lin. Once the obscure and neglected Fourth Prince, he had since risen to become the Crown Prince of Great Zhou, forged by the fires of glorious military conquest.

Lacking the courage to meet his refined gaze, Song Jiayin bowed respectfully, her voice carrying a tremor she could not quite conceal. "Yun Nu pays her respects to the Crown Prince of Great Zhou. May Your Highness enjoy ten thousand years of peace."

Song Lin’s brows furrowed slightly, his voice cold. "Sister, why are you here? Are you returning to Nanjing?"

Prostrate on the ground, Song Jiayin replied softly, "In answer to Your Highness, yes, I am returning to Nanjing."

She offered nothing more.

Song Lin waited for a request, but she remained silent. In the past, this sister had been a chattering bird, passionate and kind, never giving up on him nor harboring disdain, even when he met her with a frigid face. Yet, after three years of separation, she had become so indifferent, so distant.

Song Lin clenched his fists, his eyes clouded with complex emotions. Glancing at his trusted aides, he spoke coldly, "Han Wuhun, escort the Grand Princess to Nanjing. See that no mistakes are made."

Song Jiayin wanted to refuse, but her words were ruthlessly cut off by Song Lin. "The Empress Dowager once cherished you most. She is unwell now; are you not anxious to visit her?"

His tone was too cold, too resolute. The words died in Song Jiayin’s throat. Thinking of the kind-faced Empress Dowager, she chose silence. She reasoned that her return to Nanjing must have been ordered by the Empress Dowager herself.

"Yes, Yun Nu thanks the Crown Prince." Song Jiayin gritted her teeth and rose from the snow, only to collapse again from weakness.

Song Lin, losing patience, tossed her into the carriage like a chick. "Must you be so dawdling? Can you not be faster? Can you bear the responsibility for delaying the journey?"

She was so light—barely eighty pounds. Song Lin recoiled his hand, his tone softening only a fraction.

Tossed roughly into the carriage, Song Jiayin remained dazed for a long time. She found it hard to believe that the once cowardly, incompetent Fourth Prince—who was born only seven days before her—had become so physically imposing, radiating an aura of slaughter and the scent of blood.

Within the warmth of the carriage, Song Jiayin regained her senses, but her frostbitten hands began to itch from the heat. Not daring to approach the charcoal brazier, she reached her hands out of the carriage window to soothe them in the cold air.

The once-timid Song Lin was now the majestic Crown Prince of Great Zhou. The day she had been branded a bastard, he had been laughing and joking with Song Yueyi. At that moment, she realized that her kindness and help had not earned her even a single word of defense. From then on, she had deleted Song Lin from her heart.

Her imperial father, her mother, the brothers who once adored her, and the childhood sweetheart who grew up by her side—all had abandoned her in that moment. She could not understand: she had simply been born into that life, receiving the love of parents and siblings, so why was she labeled as having usurped Song Yueyi’s place? They were not even born of the same mother.

Song Jiayin had not expected Song Lin to extend a hand today. She assumed it was only because her wretched, filthy state brought shame upon the Great Zhou royalty that he had thrown her into the carriage so callously.

Cowering by the window, Song Jiayin remained motionless, letting the carriage jolt beneath her. She felt certain that Song Lin must loathe her, for he had not returned to the carriage to see her once. The pain in her heart tore at her skin; she knew this was the lingering effect of being spurned. After all, the heart is made of flesh; even after three years of hardening, it still felt the sting.

Everything was in the past, yet the bone-deep sorrow and heartache refused to fade.

After an unknown amount of time, the carriage stopped. Han Wuhun spoke softly from outside, "Princess, it is dark, and it is not safe to travel further. Please rest here for the night. Once His Highness finishes clearing out the remnants of the Jin Kingdom, we shall continue to Nanjing."

"Thank you, Commander Han," Song Jiayin replied gently.

With Han Wuhun’s assistance, she endured the pain and struggled out of the carriage, every step heavy and labored. Just as she steadied herself, a gentle, familiar voice reached her. "Jiajia!"

Song Jiayin turned; the man before her wore an expression of deep concern, his hand reaching out to support her. Her heart sank. Why was he here?

Su Lingfeng—the son of the Marquis of Anyang, her childhood sweetheart, the man who had almost become her husband—why was he here?

Just as Su Lingfeng was about to touch her, Song Jiayin knelt down, her voice low. "Yun Nu pays her respects to the heir of the Marquis of Anyang."

Su Lingfeng’s hand hung in mid-air, stunned. He remembered how she used to cling to him, always so warm and relentless. But now...

"Jiajia, get up. What are you doing?" Su Lingfeng asked, sounding both angry and confused.

Song Jiayin rose slowly and walked past him into the courtyard without looking his way. As she passed, she noticed he had grown taller and matured, exuding an air of nobility and bloodlust. Clearly, he, too, had participated in the war to annihilate the Jin Kingdom.

She had once loved him deeply, but he had never held her in his heart. Even when they were betrothed, he had never truly cared for her. She had once thought that with enough effort, she could warm his heart. But when she saw his tenderness toward Song Yueyi, she understood that she would never reach his soul.

The devotion she had poured out for fifteen years without return, Song Yueyi had achieved in a mere three months. So, when she was branded a bastard and treated with indifference, and when she was sent away for marriage, she had finally abandoned him.

Now, hearing him call her "Jiajia" felt so jarring. Her name in the Jin Kingdom was Yun Nu—a name given to her by the Jin princess—a detail Su Lingfeng knew nothing of.

Su Lingfeng followed her, saying softly, "The Jin Kingdom has fallen. You no longer need to suffer; we are taking you home." He added with dissatisfaction, "Why are you angry? We searched for you for months. We finally found you; you were in the capital all along, you must have known we were looking for you..."

Song Jiayin looked down at her tattered shoes and paused. "The heir speaks too heavily. Yun Nu would not dare to be angry."

She was no longer the spirited Grand Princess of Great Zhou. Now, she was mere skin and bones, dressed in rags, silent and hollow.