Xue Dongting pursed her lips in a smile. She knew whale oil lasted a long time. Many ancient tombs had altar lamps that used whale oil. Whale oil was common in the capital, but was rarely used in this fis.h.i.+ng village. She never imagined a fisherman would not only know about burning whale oil, but also dragon saliva incense. How much different really were commoners from the imperial family?

She stir-fried pickled vegetables and cured meat and brought them into the room, the fisherman following with bowls and chopsticks. She knew the fisherman had frozen all day out there catching fis.h.i.+ng specially for her return home. She pitied him and felt guilty.

Song Yuming held the big bowl in one hand and chopsticks in the other and saw she had only eaten half a bowl of congee and only a few vegetables. He kept giving her hunks of meat. Xue Dongting was forced to eat several pieces, but he kept on giving her more. She covered her bowl up with her hand and said she couldn"t eat any more. He looked at her. “You"re too thin, you ought to eat more.”

She suddenly thought back to that woman with the white cat and how voluptuous she was and how Third Prince had looked at her. That made her sour. She side-eyed the fisherman and said, “You men all like full-bodied woman don"t you?”

Song Yuming was taken aback, but he soon snapped out of it and smiled helplessly. “I didn"t mean it like that.”

Xue Dongting was silent, somewhat depressed at the thought of that chancellor"s daughter with the white cat.

By the time Song Yuming finished eating, the hot water was already boiling on the stove. She softened at the sight of him cleaning up the dishes and heading into the kitchen. She had just been stirring up trouble, brooding over her previous life and taking it all out on him. She thought for a moment, then took the wooden basin and filled it with hot water. She wanted to call Song Yuming and have him soak his feet.

A while later he came in. He was shuffling around in slippers. Clearly he had already washed his feet.

Xue Dongting saw his slightly red ankles and was surprised. “You washed up already?”

He nodded and looked at the basin filled with hot water. “You go ahead and wash.”

“There"s no hot water in the kitchen, did you use cold water?”

He laughed and nodded. “It"s a habit.”

Xue Dongting knit her brows. She knew a little medicine and knew that even a healthy person should not wash his feet in cold water in the middle of winter. “Come over here soak your feet in this hot water. Don"t use cold water anymore.”

She was pretty with her brows knit up like that. it didn"t fail to turn him on. He sidled up to her and whispered, “Dongting, are you concerned about me?”

She blushed and looked away. “Hurry up,” she said softly.

Song Yuming suddenly picked her up and carried her to the edge of the bed and said in his husky voice, “Let"s wash together.” He ignored her squirming and bent down and removed her embroidered shoes and took off her white socks. He held her icy feet just like he had that night, his big coa.r.s.e hands warm and gentle.

He slipped her pet.i.te feet into the hot water and plunked down beside her and plunged his own big feet in there with them. Xue Dongting had her head down, silent, feeling the thick calluses on the bottom of his big feet slide over the top of hers. That rough feeling set her heart to fluttering. She was pulled into the fisherman"s arms and she just let her head rest on his chest. She could feel his heart pounding. “Can we leave a bit early tomorrow?” she whispered.

Song Yuming took her little hand in his and whispered one word into her ear: “Yes.”

The wind blew outside, the distant waves cras.h.i.+ng out at sea. Suddenly the long, gentle sound of a flute floating in the pitch black night within the fis.h.i.+ng village.

Xue Dongting thought, “That flute is really strange. There"s an irregularity to it. The player must be a hardened general from the battlefield…”

An odd look flashed through Song Yuming"s eyes and he frowned slightly. He turned to the woman beside him. “You go on to bed, I"ll go out and see.”

“Do you know that flute player?”

“…It might be Old Zhang the helmsman. Something might have come up. I"ll go to the riverbank and see.”