Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Before dawn, the Marquis, treading over residual snow, galloped out of the capital.

He had left Chong'an behind, entrusting him with a single task.

At that moment, the man's gaze rested on the still-dark window of the main chamber.

"During the three days I am away, do not let the Madam leave the capital."

Chong'an was startled.

He looked up at the Marquis, who continued, "If you fail to stop her..."

Chong'an immediately knelt. "Rest assured, my lord, this subordinate will ensure the Madam remains in the capital!"

Yet the Marquis shook his head.

Under the dim light of the corridor lantern, swaying faintly in the bitter winter wind, the Marquis's eyes remained fixed on his wife's window.

"If she is determined to leave, you will not be able to stop her."

The storm-proof lantern creaked as it swung upward, its flame momentarily dimming, and the light reflected in the Marquis's eyes also momentarily dulled for a few breaths.

But then, the man's eyes hardened once more.

"The moment you discover her trace is lost, send word to me immediately—without a moment's delay!"

After the Marquis departed, Chong'an stationed himself at the entrance of the Madam's main courtyard without even eating, not daring to leave.

Yet everything in the Madam's quarters proceeded as usual:

She rose, washed, had her meal prepared. Her head maid, Qiu Lin, set up a canopy in the bamboo grove behind the main courtyard, brewing tea over a small brazier. The Madam, bundled in a heavy cloak, sat reading in the bamboo grove for half an hour before the drifting drizzle drove her back inside. Qiu Lin lit incense in the west chamber, now converted into the Madam's study, and asked if she wished to go there...

Chong'an, ears pricked in the gatehouse, heard the Madam ignore Qiu Lin's question and instead muse, "It's been a while since I went out. Have the carriage readied—I'd like to take a stroll."

Chong'an tensed.

Then the Madam added, her words carried by the draft through the courtyard, "Send for Guard An and inform him."

Without waiting to be summoned, Chong'an hurried to her side. "Madam wishes to go out? Where to? This subordinate will prepare the carriage."

Could it truly be as the Marquis predicted—was she leaving the capital?

His heart clenched, but Qiu Lin said, "The Madam wishes to visit the bookshops in Chongjiao Quarter."

Chongjiao Quarter, near Anding Gate in the northeast of the capital, was a gathering place for literati and scholars due to the Imperial Academy within its bounds. Its bookshops carried the latest contemporary essays from across the land, often unavailable elsewhere for years.

The Madam was a scholar, unlike the entire martial household of the Marquis of Yongding—as the Marquis himself had once said. Since she wasn’t leaving the city, Chong'an hesitated to outright refuse. Cautiously, he ventured,

"Before his departure, the Marquis mentioned that a band of petty thieves had infiltrated the capital. The Five City Patrols are hunting them, causing some unrest. Madam, perhaps..."

He invoked the Marquis, deliberately watching her reaction closely.

The Madam smiled faintly.

"My personal attendants are all occupied outside, and apart from my maids, I have few with me. In that case, have Guard An assign two or three men to escort the carriage. We shall make it a quick trip."

Not a word about the Marquis, yet she borrowed his men.

Chong'an had no choice but to say, "The capital is crowded and bustling. This subordinate will accompany you personally."

If the Madam insisted on going yet refused his escort, it would be suspicious.

But the Madam nodded in agreement.

Her calm, autumn-stream-like expression remained unchanged. "Then I shall trouble Guard An."

Chong'an wavered—had he overthought it?

Just as he was about to withdraw, a messenger arrived: a general from the northwestern frontier had come to pay respects to the Marquis. With no one else in the residence, only Chong'an could receive him.

Chong'an was torn.

The Madam spoke first. "Go. Just send someone with me."

Chong'an grew even more uneasy, yet the Madam showed no sign of fleeing the capital.

He assigned four alert guards to escort her, planning to dismiss the guest in fifteen minutes and catch up to Chongjiao Quarter in another fifteen.

Half an hour—surely nothing would happen.

Yet when he hurried over to Chongjiao Quarter half an hour later, he found the four guards frantically searching the alleys.

Chong'an's heart sank. "What are you looking for?"

"Sir An, the Madam... she and her maid have vanished!"

Chong'an nearly collapsed.

The Madam had truly left, just as the Marquis had foreseen—without a farewell.

But... why?

"Quickly—search outside the city!" Then another thought struck him.

"And send word to the Marquis at once!"

*

An unremarkable carriage rolled out of the city only after Chong'an's men had scattered beyond the gates.

A jolt cracked the window open a sliver. Qiu Lin peeked out just as two of the Marquis's guards galloped past, scanning the road. She quickly averted her gaze.

The imperial capital was a hub of nobility. Even with the Marquis wielding great power, he could not arbitrarily inspect and question passing carriages—especially those of high officials and nobility.

Now, posing as part of Grand Secretary Dou's household—a man at odds with the Marquis—they had slipped past the guards. The Dou family happened to have members leaving the capital for their hometown, buying them days before the Marquis's men could verify the facts.

But this journey would be long and arduous, crossing mountains and rivers, requiring new names and identities, leaving their old lives behind.

Qiu Lin glanced at her mistress, wanting to ask if she was certain about this irrevocable step. But she held her tongue. Her lady never acted without having pondered countless times.

Had it not been for the imperial decree—and the fact that the groom was the all-powerful Marquis who dominated the court—would it have come to this?

As dusk fell, the carriage reached the lodging arranged in advance by steward Ruan Gong.

Du Lingjing ate a light meal and retired early.

She slept in her usual spot near the wall, but that night, dreams coiled around her like relentless vines. She awoke abruptly, mouth parched and throat dry.

She sat quietly for a moment.

Ever since their marriage, whenever she woke at night, someone would always stir from sleep as well. As a military man, he slept lightly and would often sit up to ask,

"Thirsty? Want some tea?"

But tonight, the bed curtains remained silent, with no one speaking.

Du Lingjing paused briefly before collecting herself.

Qiu Lin was asleep on the other side of the room. Without calling for her, Du Lingjing quietly grabbed her robe and draped it over her shoulders.

Yet just as the fabric settled, she suddenly felt the warmth of someone’s fingertips gently resting on her shoulder. "Don’t get up. I’ll fetch you a cup of warm tea."

Du Lingjing was stunned.

This had been their nightly routine for days.

But last night, as the wind rattled the door, he took the cup from her after she drank and, instead of immediately extinguishing the small lamp, said,

"In a couple of days, when I return to the capital, I’ll bring back a few potted flowers for the estate. What do you think?"

Du Lingjing didn’t grasp his meaning at first, until he added, his already low voice dropping even softer.

"Wait for me at home."

She looked up in surprise, meeting his gaze as moonlight pooled in his eyes, the room as silent as it was now.

She didn’t remember her reply last night. But suddenly, she thought she heard the sound of galloping hooves outside the courtyard where they were staying.

*

A group of horsemen raced through the night, arriving at the courtyard gate beneath the faint light of dawn. They could just make out a small lamp still burning inside.

Their eyes lit up—especially Chong’an, who immediately dismounted.

He moved to push the gate open, but a low voice from behind cautioned him.

"Keep quiet. Don’t disturb the Madam."

Chong’an held his breath and hurried to the door. But just as he raised his hand, the wooden gate creaked open—

A cold gust swept through the courtyard, revealing it empty. Even the small lamp that had been lit moments ago flickered out in its oil.

"Madam… Madam is gone?" Chong’an couldn’t believe it.

After her disappearance, he had searched everywhere for traces of her, to no avail. It was only when the Marquis received the news and rushed over that they traced the so-called "Dou family" and followed the lead here.

He’d assumed the Marquis’ quick action would surely lead them to her. But now, "How did we miss her? Was she truly so determined to leave?"

He blurted out in disarray, and his elder brother Chong Ping shot him a sharp glance, making him shut his mouth.

He turned to the Marquis, who remained silent, stepping forward. He walked to the extinguished lamp and looked down at the key placed beside it.

It was a copper key, its top cast into the shape of a tall, intricate library.

The Guilin Library—a collection second only to the imperial Wenlan Pavilion, built with craftsmen borrowed from the Ministry of Works.

It was the Marquis’ betrothal gift to her.

But now, the key to that gift had been left behind, left here deliberately.

Was the Madam telling the Marquis to stop searching?

The lamp’s lingering smoke drifted in the air, stinging their noses.

In the faint dawn light, Chong’an saw the Marquis lower his head with a faint smile. Yet in the end, he said nothing, quietly tucking the key to the Guilin Library into his robe.

The sun had barely risen before being swallowed by rain-heavy clouds. Under the eaves, it grew darker, and no one spoke. Chong’an only saw his elder brother Chong Ping hesitate before stepping forward to ask,

"My lord, should we keep searching?"

*

They had set off before daybreak, moving quickly with the wind at their backs. But the good travel didn’t last long before coming to an end.

Unfortunately, by noon, they encountered a local festival in a small town, jamming the streets completely. The carriage crept forward in stops and starts. Du Lingjing had just called Qiu Lin down when the latter rushed to the roadside and was sick by a tree.

Du Lingjing herself felt unwell and stepped toward where the wind blew, pushing through the crowd alone.

She hadn’t traveled far these past two days, focused on hiding her trail. As long as they remained near the capital, they were still within his reach. If she could just slip out of Beizhili and cross into Shandong, even if she didn’t return to her hometown in Qingzhou, she had a safe place to stay awhile. But leaving Beizhili would take at least three more days.

As she calculated silently, a sudden wind blasted through the intersection ahead, carrying dust and pebbles that made the crowd blink in an instant.

The crowded street broke into chaos.

Some shouted in surprise, others shoved blindly. In the confusion, Du Lingjing felt someone push her from behind. But as she stumbled back, a firm hand gripped her arm.

She automatically said, "Thank you."

Turning, her eyes widened the moment she saw him.

The man’s face was alarmingly close, and the crowd around them was already filled with his men.

Du Lingjing knew escape was impossible, yet she instinctively tried to pull away—only for him to clamp her wrist.

"The wind is too strong. You’re not well enough for this. Don’t go that way."

She didn’t turn back. "This wind doesn’t bother me. As long as I’m not walking with the Marquis, this breeze is nothing."

Only then did she glance at him. "If the Marquis would let me leave alone, I’d be grateful."

He chuckled, his voice low and rough. "Then will you come back?"

"Once gone, I won’t return."

"But what if… you’re already carrying our child?"

His gaze dropped to her abdomen, pausing briefly before lifting back to her face, locking onto her eyes.

It was as if his calloused hands were tracing her shoulders and waist in the dimness of their bedchamber… Du Lingjing stiffened slightly before averting her eyes.

"Highly unlikely."

Her voice was cold, her face stern.

She had never shown him even a fifth of the gentleness she once had for her former betrothed, Jiang Zhuxiu or Jiang Sanlang. Now, there was none left at all.

Yet he was the one bound to her as husband and wife.

The man laughed again, his low voice carrying quiet amusement.

"For my wife to hold such grievances against me… truly, my fault."

He shook his head, mocking his own regret.

The crowd had been dispersed at some point, the wind tossing a stray lock of hair across his forehead.

Yet at this moment, he stepped even closer, bringing them face-to-face.

Du Lingjing instinctively moved to retreat, but he tightened his grip on her wrist.

"I’ve erred, I know. But the more I realize it, the less I can let you leave. As the Buddhist scriptures say, if one repents, their sins are extinguished. Please grant me this chance, allow me to spend this lifetime repenting and atoning. Is that acceptable?"

Every word bore down on her, weighted by the intensity of his gaze.

Du Lingjing couldn’t free herself from his grasp, nor could she fathom how such a man existed—one who used repentance as an excuse, spoken so effortlessly.

Yet the man pretended not to see the disdain in his wife’s eyes. Instead, he took her hand and led her back the way they’d come.

But suddenly, she laughed.

"Don’t you think you’re being overbearing, Marquis Lu? From the very beginning, plotting to secure an imperial decree to force this marriage, to lying to me at every turn, and now chasing me down just to imprison me in the capital."

She scoffed. "Tell me, Marquis Lu, what exactly is it that you desire?"

She called him Marquis Lu.

The man did not answer immediately. Instead, he took a handkerchief from his robe and carefully placed its contents into the pouch at her waist.

It was the key to the Returning Forest Tower.

"Try not to lose it this time."

She pressed her lips together, silent, her eyes locked on his, demanding an answer to her question.

The man paused briefly, then smiled slowly at his wife. His words were deliberate, spoken one by one.

"All I want... is you, my wife."

......

Beyond the carriage window, the mountains rose and fell in the distance, a sight as majestic as the heavens. But for the ordinary people climbing up and down those peaks, the journey was arduous and endless, with no relief in sight.

No matter how she thought of it, Du Lingjing could never have imagined that six months ago, her brief detour through the capital—merely to retrieve a book—would drag her into this whirlpool of power and conflict, a place she despised above all else.