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She had never seen any silks and satins or pearl hairpins or other dangling ornaments in her previous life in the third prince’s manor. Back then, Xue Dongting liked those things and only resolutely stood by Third Prince’s side for his status and power. As a lowly singsong girl she had been through the fickle hot-and-cold nature of the world, and it had made her thirst for power, but it was a petty longing that vanished like smoke under the third prince’s cold blade. As she was dying she finally understood how ridiculous it all was.

Xue Dongting shook her head. “I don’t like jade or pearl hairpins. Those flashy things are so useless!”

There was a surprised look in Song Yuming’s eyes. He laughed. “Dongting, you really don’t act like a sixteen-year-old girl.”

She looked up at him and smiled. “Then just think of me as ten years older.”

Song Yuming made a show of thinking this over, then laughed. “Even if you’re ten years older you’re still not as old as me.”

Xue Dongting tilted her head. She only knew he was in his thirties, but she didn’t know his precise age. “How old are you?”

“Thirty-three.”

Xue Dongting suddenly thought of what Mama Qiao had said, that older men knew how to take care of someone. She pursed her lips in thin smile.

It was such a turn on when a woman forced a smile. Song Yuming watched her out of the corner of his eye. He couldn’t help but embrace his lovely little wife. “What are you smiling at? Think I’m old?”

She rolled her seductive eyes, silent and still smiling, naughtily teasing her husband.

He said to her in a low voice, “Alright, Dongting, so you think I’m old? There’s no way I’m letting you off tonight.”

The radiant setting sun shone on Dongting’s cheeks, giving them an orange hue and obscuring her blushing glow. She buried her head in her husband’s chest and said softly, “It’s getting late, let’s go back.”

Song Yuming nodded, smiling. “Okay. My little wife wants to go back home.”

Xue Dongting blanched. Then she pummeled her fists on his chest in a fit of pique. She hadn’t meant anything, but the way the fisherman had said it made it sound like she was having some other ideas.

Song Yuming felt good being pummeled and he just laughed.

Twilight closed in and an inky black rose up from the horizon, slowly dyeing the sky. A small boat drifted along the vast river.

After going ashore, the fisherman held Dongting’s hand and led her to his little thatched cottage, walking briskly. Xue Dongting knew what was on his mind and didn’t want to walk quickly. The fisherman noticed her dragging her feet and went over and picked her up without a word. She yelped, but he did not stop. Rather, with him carrying her he walked even faster.

She lowered her head, exposing the jade-white nape of her neck. “What’s your hurry? We haven’t even eaten yet…”

“I’m hungry,” the fisherman murmured.

Dongting naturally knew what he was hungering for, but she said, “If you’re hungry then eat. Didn’t you buy steamed meat buns at in town?”

“How can some meat buns fill me up?” he said.

Her face started burning when he said that. She turned away and said nothing else, but she was feeling uneasy.

Song Yuming carried her back to the cottage and set her down on the rose-scented red embroidered quilt.

“I’m… I’m cold…” Laying on the quilt, her voice was trembling.

The fisherman’s voice was husky. “There’s hot coals in the kitchen. I’ll go get some.” He turned and went out. She heard him stamping around and then he came back in.

He brought the little glowing-red brazier inside and the unlit room was instantly illuminated.

The glow of the flames made Song Yuming’s eyes look like they were burning as well. He set the brazier down and looked at her. “You’ll be warm soon enough.”