Song Yuming carried Xue Dongting to the bed and sat down, setting her on his lap. He looked down at his little wife with her eyes br.i.m.m.i.n.g with tears. The man"s pitch-black eyes were somewhat smiling.

Xue Dongting glanced at him and her heart s.h.i.+vered. In her previous life she had once seen the emperor from a distance. Even those he was a ways off and she could not make out the features of the man on the imperial throne, still, at this moment she was filled with dread. The look in the fisherman"s eyes looked a lot like the Son of Heaven.

That look was not a sharp look, but there was still a degree of awe-inspiring majesty there, along with the resolve to kill, and a presence that made one want to submit.

Xue Dongting was stupefied, lost in a daze.

Song Yuming wiped the tears from her cheek with his thumb. “You saw the jade and got mad and didn"t ask me about it. You waited for me to mention it, but now you don"t want to listen. So tell me what should I do?”

She let go of that dreadful thought and listened to the fisherman. She knew she was in the wrong but would not admit it. She just looked down and pursed her lips. Her limpid eyes became more placid.

The fisherman adjusted her there in his arms on his knee and said, “I came to this place alone. The past to me is already past, like a wisp of clouds rolling by… There"s a lot I never wanted to tell you, you know? But it"s just caused more trouble.”

Xue Dongting said nothing, just rested her head gently on the fisherman"s chest.

Song Yuming ran his finger through her hair. He regarded those black tresses and sighed. “You"re only sixteen, and I"m already thirty-three. To you I really am old, and I have already been through a lot. It"s okay to tell you about some of it… I really did give that bamboo & plum jade ornament to a girl. We grew up together. Her big brother was my best friend. He was the one playing the flute on the river that night. There was a time I thought I would marry her. But that girl, in the end married my elder brother.”

Xue Dongting looked up at him, saw a trace of futility in those pitch-black eyes. His voice was calm, as if he were relating a story that had nothing to do with him. He continued, “I once went on campaign, on the battlefield, I mustered troops. My hands have been soaked in blood. I grew used to seeing heads lopped off, lances plunged violently into chests…” His voice was trembling.

“Don"t say any more,” Xue Dongting urged. “Don"t say any more.” She wrapped her arm around his neck. “I won"t ask,” she said softly. “Let the past stay in the past. I won"t ask anymore.”

“Dongting,” he said in a low voice, “Are you afraid of me?”

She shook her head. “I"m not afraid. You"re not a bad man, you"re… my husband.”

Song Yuming bent over and kissed her forehead. “I know I"m not from Clearcreek Village. I have no fields, no land, just this thatched hut and a fis.h.i.+ng boat… Now that I have you I won"t let you suffer, and I certainly will never abandon you…”

“I know, hubby.” Xue Dongting looked at him. “I won"t ask about your past again. Even if you were a general on the battlefield before, you"re not now. I just want to pleasantly pa.s.s the days with you, okay? What does all that stuff outside this fis.h.i.+ng village have to do with us anyway?”

Song Yuming"s brows knit slightly. He held her tight in his arms. “Okay,” he said softly.