Chapter 99 A Couple Has Grace, Without Sincerity They Part…

Chapter 99: A Couple Bonds Through Affection, But Without Honesty, They Part...

After seeing Liu Yuenu off, Jiang Wanrou’s smile vanished instantly. She had genuinely cared for her—how could she truly remain indifferent to her departure?

Even upon returning to her residence, Jiang Wanrou’s face still carried traces of melancholy.

“You’re back.”

Jintao hurried forward to help Her Highness the Princess Consort remove her outer garments and freshen up, adding, “Shall the evening meal be served? The Prince left word that Her Highness the Princess Consort should retire first tonight and not wait for him.”

“Oh? Why isn’t he returning?”

Having just bid farewell to her dear sister, Jiang Wanrou was feeling particularly low—she missed him.

Back in the capital, she had often hoped Lu Feng would stay busy and not disturb her quiet life. She had never been one to rely on others, yet now she found herself increasingly leaning on him.

Jintao hesitated for a moment before replying, “I heard the Prince intends to publicly execute the traitor, Chen Fu.”

At the mention of that name, a surge of revulsion flashed in Jiang Wanrou’s eyes. The fresh grudge of being abducted by Chen Fu, the old hatred tied to Aunt Li—this man truly deserved death!

She had seen him once—his arm severed, with the deceptively scholarly appearance of a pale-faced scholar, his gaze reptilian, his narrow eyes like a viper’s, as if ready to strike without warning.

Even now, the memory made her sickened.

Throughout the evening meal, Jiang Wanrou’s mood remained somber. Usually gentle and composed, her maids grew tense at her demeanor, one young servant even accidentally spilling soup on the table in her nervousness.

It was a minor mishap, and Jiang Wanrou had no intention of punishing her. Yet Jintao immediately curtsied deeply in apology, taking responsibility for the oversight.

After Her Highness the Princess Consort’s disappearance from the general’s estate, most of the servants had been beaten to death. Only because Jintao was Jiang Wanrou’s personal maid was she spared, receiving twenty strokes of the cane instead. When news of Jiang Wanrou’s whereabouts arrived, she followed Ling Xiao’s army to the frontier city of Wujin, where mistress and maid were reunited.

Having endured so much hardship alongside her, Jiang Wanrou comforted Jintao warmly—though unlike the expressive Cuizhu, Jintao’s emotions were harder to read.

Like today—Jiang Wanrou couldn’t shake the feeling that Jintao was distracted.

After the evening meal, Jiang Wanrou dismissed the servants. Seated before her bronze mirror, Jintao carefully removed her hair ornaments: the phoenix-tail hairpin inlaid with rubies, the dangling hairpins adorned with turquoise, the translucent mutton-fat jade… Among the jewels sent by the Turkic delegation as part of the peace negotiations, Lu Feng had withheld a portion, reserving them for her personal coffers.

Jintao’s skilled hands caused no discomfort as Jiang Wanrou’s hair cascaded down. Suddenly, Jiang Wanrou spoke, “Jintao, something’s troubling you.”

Jintao froze. Before her knees could touch the ground, Jiang Wanrou swiftly caught her arm. “You’re not fully recovered yet—no need to kneel.”

“From the capital to the frontier, you’ve followed me through every hardship. I thought our bond was different.”

Jiang Wanrou’s voice turned soft but edged. “If even you keep secrets from me, who can I trust?”

The accusation hung heavy.

A rare flicker of panic crossed Jintao’s face. Though Jiang Wanrou’s tone remained firm but coaxing, her insistence brooked no refusal—she demanded an explanation.

Jintao had been acting strangely ever since returning from the Marquis of Ning’an’s residence. At first, Jiang Wanrou hadn’t paid it much mind—everyone had their private worries. But today, already in low spirits, she noticed how Jintao reacted peculiarly at the mention of “Chen Fu.”

What connection could her sheltered Jintao possibly have with a rebel from the fallen dynasty? The matter was too significant to ignore.

Under Jiang Wanrou’s firm but coaxing pressure, Jintao closed her eyes and finally confessed…

Late into the night, the door slowly creaked open. His military boots jarring against the floor broke the stillness.

***

“Still awake?” came Lu Feng’s voice.

Seeing Jiang Wanrou sitting at the desk, nodding sleepily, Lu Feng frowned and cupped her cheek with his palm.

His hand seemed freshly washed, damp and sticky, yet icy cold, sending a shiver through Jiang Wanrou that jolted her awake.

She yawned and stood to help him out of his robes.

“There’s something I wanted to tell you, so I couldn’t sleep.”

The night was still chilly, and Lu Feng’s robe was dusted with frost. Jiang Wanrou, as usual, hung it on the clothes rack, but her sharp eyes caught flecks of blood on the hem.

Her eyes dimmed, but she said nothing, proceeding to untie his hair as always.

Lu Feng closed his eyes, his brow furrowed darkly.

After a moment, he asked, “What is it?”

He had deliberately left her with unfinished words earlier, and she had waited until now. Even in his heavy mood, Lu Feng was prepared to listen.

Jiang Wanrou asked softly, “I heard today... my husband went to execute the Chen rebel?”

Lu Feng stiffened, the fury that had settled in the cold wind suddenly flaring anew.

Chen Fu was utterly dead—completely, irrevocably. He had personally beheaded him, chopped his body into mincemeat, avenging the child they’d lost years before.

Chen Fu, of course, had died unwillingly. After years of laying low, never achieving his grand ambitions, repeatedly defeated by Lu Feng, he must have known death was inevitable. Staring at Lu Feng’s arrogant, disdainful demeanor, he had burned with hate.

His father had been driven to his death by the old Qi Emperor, and now he perished at the hands of his descendant—why? Why did all the fortune in the world belong to the Qis?

Lu Feng had led his iron cavalry to trample half the grasslands, now riding high on victory. But Chen Fu refused to let him have peace.

Even in death, he would get in one last dig.

“Prince of Qi, hahaha, what a fine Prince of Qi!”

“No matter how many battle honors you’ve earned, do you know? Your beloved Beauty consort thrashed and moaned under another man, screaming in pleasure.”

“To die beneath the peony, a ghost still lusting. To taste the flavor of your consort before death—I, Chen Fu, die without regret—”

Lu Feng’s blade was swift. In an instant, Chen Fu’s head parted from his body, a spray of blood gushing forth, seeping into the cracks of the prison’s stone floor.

Lu Feng wasn’t foolish enough to believe Chen Fu’s bullshit, but when it concerned Jiang Wanrou, he couldn’t shrug it off.

During the days she had been abducted, he had never questioned her—not because he was easygoing enough to let it slide; on the contrary, it tormented him.

Back when they traveled south, he hadn’t even allowed others to touch a jade pendant that smelled like her, let alone a living, breathing person!

But he knew he couldn’t blame her. It was his own negligence that had left her to suffer for no reason.

He had never voiced the question, but it had festered like a thorn he couldn’t pull out. Jiang Wanrou’s secrecy, Pei Zhang’s half-answers, and now Chen Fu’s taunts—whether true or false—had finally set Lu Feng off.

His chest rose and fell slightly as he lowered his voice. “Mm.”

Jiang Wanrou could see his anger. He’d come in scowling, neither speaking nor embracing her.

She hesitated. By all reason, she shouldn’t broach the topic now.

But he had been so good to her, making her believe he truly cared.

Jiang Wanrou wrung out a towel and gently wiped Lu Feng’s face. Under the soft candlelight, she said softly, “Today, I have two things to tell my husband.”

She pressed Jintao for answers, feeling both surprised yet it made sense.

When investigating Ying'er's case, she had assigned Jintao to serve by Aunt Li's side. Jintao was sharp-witted and, being close to Aunt Li, was the first to learn of Aunt Li's past with Prince Chen.

Aunt Li often suffered from nightmares, thrashing and pleading in her sleep, her face twisted in agony. Initially, Jintao feared she was tormented and woke her a few times. Aunt Li would ask, "Did I say anything foolish?"

Jintao cautiously shook her head. "I didn't catch what you said."

Aunt Li sighed in relief. Over time, perhaps realizing she couldn’t hide it, after another nightmare, Jintao handed her a cup of warm water. Aunt Li said, "You're a clever girl. Sometimes knowing too much can be dangerous."

Jintao pondered and replied evasively, "I serve the mistress alone and obey only her orders."

Aunt Li gave a bitter laugh and said no more. Jintao, following Jiang Wanrou's instructions, often collected intelligence about court matters to report back—unlike an ordinary maid. From Aunt Li's guarded demeanor and the pleas in her nightmares, Jintao deduced two things:

First: For some unknown reason, the Marquis's concubine had once been presented to the rebel Prince Chen.

Second: Prince Chen was cruel, who delighted in torturing his women. Even years later, Aunt Li still had nightmares.

Given the sensitivity of Aunt Li's reputation, Jintao didn't dare breathe a word—not even to Jiang Wanrou. Unlike Cuizhu's fearless ignorance, Jintao was somewhat afraid of Jiang Wanrou. After all, she had witnessed how a maid who spoke disrespectfully to the mistress one day was beaten to death the next for disrespecting the master—on the master's orders. But how much of it was the mistress's doing? No one could say.

The mistress now appeared gentle and kind, but in the past, her hands were stained with blood. Who would want their birth mother's shameful past exposed? Jintao had resolved to bury the matter in her heart. Jiang Wanrou had asked, even sent Cuizhu to probe, but Jintao kept silent—until today, when Jiang Wanrou wrung the truth out of her.

……

Jiang Wanrou had previously learned from Madame Qin that Aunt Li had once been offered to Prince Chen. As it involved elders, she hadn’t pressed further. She never imagined Aunt Li had endured such humiliation and torment at Prince Chen's hands—so much that years later, she still had nightmares.

A woman of stunning beauty but lowly status, born in turbulent times, was destined for hardship. Aunt Li had already suffered too much in her early years. Jiang Wanrou's voice grew somber. "Husband, I want to ask Aunt Li. If she’s willing... could we... let her leave the marriage?"

The Marquis of Ning'an had offered Aunt Li up, then reclaimed her in the turmoil of war. Jiang Wanrou had once thought Aunt Li held affection for him—but now, she realized she was wrong.

What woman could possibly love a man who pushed them into hell? Jiang Wanrou had never dared consider such unthinkable ideas before. But after traveling, witnessing the rugged customs of border towns and the vastness of the grasslands, her worldview had subtly changed.

She wanted Aunt Li to live freely in her later years, free from the Marquis's control and unburdened by reputation.

Lu Feng coolly interrupted her thoughts. "By Qi law, a concubine cannot divorce her master."

Though she was his wife's mother, she was still a "concubine"—could only be dismissed, not divorced.

Jiang Wanrou hesitated, then asked. "Then... could he write a letter releasing her?"

She had once asked Aunt Li if she wished to be elevated to principal wife status. Aunt Li had refused. Back then, Jiang Wanrou assumed it was out of indifference to status—but now, she wondered if Aunt Li simply didn’t want it at all.

Lu Feng gave a slight nod. "Mm."

Did that mean he agreed?

Jiang Wanrou hadn’t expected it to be so easy. As Princess Consort of Qi, bound to him in marriage, she always considered his position. Other consorts came from illustrious families, while she had only a father with an empty title and no official rank. If her mother were released, her position would become even more precarious.

Lu Feng said coolly, "Don't trouble yourself with such thoughts."

Did she not realize why he had gone to such lengths to elevate Liu Yuenu?

On another day, he might have pulled her into his arms, caressed her fair skin, whispered sweet nothings, and gently explained after intimacy.

But today was not the day. Lu Feng gestured for Jiang Wanrou to stop kneading his knees.

He asked, "What else?"

She said there were two matters—one remains.

He was already looking antsy. Jiang Wanrou bit her lip, wrapped her arms around his calves, and said softly, "Jintao has served me for five years. We share a deep bond—she’s not just any servant."

"Several times before, she hesitated and held back. Today, seeing her behavior so suspicious, I even suspected she might have ties to the Chen rebel. I grilled her until she finally spilled the truth."

Was it Jintao's fault? Not at all. She was clever, cautious, loyal, and tight-lipped—a loyal servant like her is rare as hen’s teeth. But her dodging the question just made Jiang Wanrou suspicious.

Had Jintao confessed earlier, Jiang Wanrou might have rescued her mother from suffering long ago, and they wouldn’t have grown distrustful of each other. Thinking it over, Jiang Wanrou suddenly recalled the days she spent alone with Pei Zhang.

Learning that Lord Pei was safe had eased her heart, but she also remembered what she had hidden from Lu Feng.

Though Pei Zhang had promised her—what was known between heaven and earth, between them alone—secrets don’t stay buried forever. If Lu Feng were to find out from someone else one day, the distance between them would become unbridgeable.

Better to come clean and tell him straight. Before, Jiang Wanrou hadn’t dared, but now she knew: he cared for her more than she had ever imagined.

A marriage needs trust—lies only drive people apart. Once, she had seen him as her lord, her master, her prince. Now, she simply wanted him as her husband.

Kneeling on the plush rug to massage Lu Feng’s knees earlier, Jiang Wanrou nuzzled her cheek against his thigh and lifted her head. Her silky hair tumbled down, framing her moon-pale face.

Softly, she said, "Husband, the truth is, when I was abducted, the Chen rebel tried to ruin me."

"Lord Pei saved me. We spent days together, but we kept things strictly proper. At first, I was too frightened and worried you might misunderstand, so I never dared to speak of it."

"A marriage needs trust—lies only drive people apart. I offer you my sincerity, husband... please don’t despise me for it."

How could Lu Feng despise her? Chen Fu’s taunts had lit a fire in him, but Jiang Wanrou’s words doused it in minutes.

Her past concealment, that splinter in his heart, had now been plucked out by her own hand, leaving no trace behind.

Lu Feng’s heart pounded wildly—on one side, his wife’s heartfelt confession; on the other, a traitor’s last desperate lies. Who should he believe? The choice was obvious.

She was his—from head to toe, body and soul, untouched by another!

Lu Feng let out a dark chuckle, leaving Jiang Wanrou utterly bewildered. Was he... so angry he’d lost his senses?

He had entered with a grim face, then inexplicably began laughing, the sound growing louder, his chest shaking with mirth, unsettling her.

Worried, she tugged at his robe. Suddenly, Lu Feng swept her into his arms and uttered a single word: "Fool."

Whether he meant her question was foolish, or that all of Chen Fu’s scheming had come to nothing, or even that he himself had been foolish to let provocation stir such pointless rage—Jiang Wanrou couldn’t decipher the depth behind that cryptic word.

But she got a firsthand taste of Lu Feng’s passion, bounced around as she clung to him, murmuring dazedly:

Wait—she still had to grab the balm.