CHAPTER 60 — THE VINEGAR JAR SHATTERED
"Madam has taken the medicinal dishes you prepared, Miss, and she is already much improved," Dong'er reported, her eyes shining with admiration. She had never imagined her young mistress possessed such knowledge of medicine.
Tang Ke Xin smiled gently. "Good. Tomorrow I shall go out myself and purchase a few more things for Mother."
The following morning dawned grey and overcast, though the air was mercifully cool. After breakfast, Tang Ke Xin and Dong'er left the Prime Minister's estate to buy the necessary herbs and ingredients.
When the Prime Minister's wife had returned home days earlier, she had been suffering from a severe cold. Her constitution was frail, and many medicines were unsuitable for her. Thus, Tang Ke Xin had prepared nourishing dishes instead—gentle, restorative, and far more effective for her weakened body.
As the two walked past a teahouse, a guard stationed by the entrance stiffened.
"Your Highness, Miss Tang is passing by," he whispered to the man seated within.
Ye Lan Jue's brows lifted a fraction. "Invite her in."
The guard vanished down the stairs.
Tang Ke Xin, halted mid‑step, blinked in confusion. When she was ushered into a private room and saw the Third Prince seated within, she froze entirely.
His Highness… invited her for tea?
Before she could gather her thoughts, the door behind her burst open.
"My wife! It truly is you. I knew I wasn't mistaken!"
The booming voice made her jump.
Tang Ke Xin stiffened. She was the only woman in the room—there was no one else he could possibly be addressing. And that voice… she recognised it.
Nangong Yi strode in with a radiant smile, his handsome, fox‑like features bright with mischief. His voice was loud enough to be heard across the entire teahouse—certainly loud enough for the Third Prince, seated directly opposite, to hear every syllable.
Ye Lan Jue's hand tightened around his teacup.
Tang Ke Xin exhaled slowly. So it really was him.
But wife?
When had she become anyone's wife?
Her only encounter with Nangong Yi had been that chaotic carriage incident. How had that brief meeting escalated into… this?
"Is my wife here for tea?" Nangong Yi beamed. "Come, come—your husband shall accompany you."
Tang Ke Xin nearly choked.
Husband?
Whose husband?
Certainly not hers.
"Mayor…" she managed at last, her voice trembling with shock. She had known he was shameless, but she had not expected him to be this shameless.
Ye Lan Jue, seated by the door, watched everything. His expression darkened, the porcelain teacup creaking faintly under the pressure of his grip.
"My wife, sit here. Slowly, slowly—don't tire yourself."
Nangong Yi guided her to a chair with exaggerated tenderness, arranging her seat as though she were a precious treasure. Then he pulled up a chair of his own and sat beside her, leaning close.
Tang Ke Xin's mouth twitched.
What on earth is he doing?
He behaved like a devoted, doting husband—far too convincingly.
Nangong Yi turned to Ye Lan Jue with a bright smile. "Your Highness, it has been too long. Forgive me for not greeting you sooner—my wife startled me."
His tone was warm, familiar—far too familiar.
Tang Ke Xin risked a glance at the Third Prince.
His expression was glacial.
Their eyes met.
His gaze was colder than she had ever seen it.
"Come, let me introduce you," Nangong Yi said cheerfully. "Your Highness, this is my wife—Tang Ke Xin."
Tang Ke Xin nearly fainted.
He was doing this deliberately.
Deliberately.
Ye Lan Jue's lips curved in a faint, icy snort. His voice, when he spoke, was cold as winter steel—and carried something else beneath it. Something sharp.
Nangong Yi ignored him entirely and continued, "My wife, this is His Highness, the Heroic Divine Martial Prince of the Great Yuan Empire."
"I know," Tang Ke Xin cut in quickly, unable to endure another word. "I am acquainted with His Highness."
"Oh? So my wife already knows the Third Prince." Nangong Yi's smile only widened.
Tang Ke Xin inhaled sharply. "Mayor Nangong, you may eat whatever you like, but you cannot speak whatever you like. I am not familiar with you. Your… address is inappropriate."
Nangong Yi's grin only grew more dazzling. "My wife, you forget our promise. You said I was far superior to Mu Shaoyi. You said you liked me. You said you would break off your engagement and wait for me to marry you."
Tang Ke Xin's heart lurched.
That? He's referring to that?
She had only said those words to scare him away. And he had been frightened—she had seen it with her own eyes. She had assumed the matter ended there.
Apparently not.
Across from her, Ye Lan Jue's fingers tightened around the teacup until the porcelain strained.
She had told Ye Lan Chen she no longer liked Mu Shaoyi.
But she had not said who she liked now.
Was it… Nangong Yi?
Was she truly planning to break her engagement and wait for this man?
His gaze fixed on her—cold, sharp, demanding an answer.
"Mayor, that matter…" Tang Ke Xin began, acutely aware of the Third Prince's stare. There was something strange in his eyes—something she could not decipher.
She knew his temperament well enough. If something did not concern him, he would not react at all. His expression would remain unchanged for a thousand years.
But the moment Nangong Yi called her wife, his expression had cracked—just slightly, but unmistakably.
Nangong Yi had seen it too.
He had watched the Third Prince's guard escort her inside. He knew Ye Lan Jue had personally summoned her. He had seen the Third Prince pour tea for a woman—something unheard of.
And now, he was enjoying himself immensely.
"My wife," Nangong Yi said softly, tapping his cheek, "we sealed our promise with a kiss. You kissed me here. You cannot go back on your word."
Tang Ke Xin stared at him.
He was pointing at the exact spot she had kissed to frighten him away.
Ye Lan Jue's teacup cracked.
The vinegar jar had overturned.
And the entire room smelled of jealousy.
Tang Ke Xin's eyes flickered, and she swallowed hard. Yes—she had kissed him that day, but only to frighten him away, to rid herself of his troublesome presence. Who could have imagined that such a desperate tactic would one day become the very reason he proclaimed her his future wife?
Before she could gather her thoughts, she sensed a shift in the air.
Ye Lan Jue's pupils contracted sharply. His gaze—cold as a winter abyss—darkened until it seemed to swallow all light. The silence that followed was suffocating.
"City Lord, you clearly know—" Tang Ke Xin inhaled deeply, forcing her voice to steady. "City Lord, you clearly know…"
She exhaled again.
This matter had to be clarified. Even knowing Nangong Yi's maddening personality, she could not allow this misunderstanding to grow. Explaining anything to him was like trying to reason with a fox who had already stolen the hen and was now lecturing the farmer on poultry etiquette.
The Third Prince might be a fox as well—but his cunning was hidden beneath layers of ice and restraint. Nangong Yi, however, was a fox who danced on rooftops at noon, waving his tail proudly for all to see.
Nangong Yi spoke as freely as Ye Lan Chen, but the difference was stark. Ye Lan Chen's words were simple, honest, and unfiltered—whatever he thought, he said. There was no ulterior motive.
Nangong Yi, on the other hand, never uttered a single sentence without purpose. Every word was a thread in a web only he understood.
"My wife, I know," Nangong Yi interrupted smoothly, not giving her the slightest chance to speak. "I know everything. I understand your feelings."
He even twisted the truth as he spoke, as though he were doing her a favour.
Tang Ke Xin felt her composure crack.
"Mayor Nangong, I am not your wife. There is no 'you' and certainly no 'me' in that sense." Even she, usually calm and measured, felt the urge to scream. Nangong Yi possessed a rare talent—he could drive a saint to madness with a single conversation.
"Heart," Nangong Yi murmured, his voice dripping with tenderness so sweet it was almost cloying. "What you mean is that we are not yet married, so it is improper to call you 'wife'. Very well. I shall refrain from using it—for now. Once we are married, I shall call you 'wife' as much as you please."
Tang Ke Xin nearly choked on her own breath.
Heart?
When had she become his heart?
The word was more intimate, more unbearable than "wife". It made her skin prickle.
And what did he mean after marriage?
He intended to marry her?
Truly?
Nangong Yi was not a frivolous man. He was bold, shameless, and infuriating—but not careless. How could he speak of marriage so casually?
Tang Ke Xin stared at him, utterly speechless.
And across from her, the Third Prince's teacup cracked faintly in his tightening grip.
The vinegar jar had not merely overturned.
It had shattered.