Chapter 24

Chapter 24

Before Du Lingjing could collect herself, the man had already strode through the crowd, heading directly for her.

Startled, she began to rise in greeting, but before she could stand, he gently pressed her hand, then settled beside her.

“Why has the Marquis come?” she asked.

His eyes crinkled with amusement. “Nothing urgent. I’ll just sit with you for a while.”

Du Lingjing was utterly bewildered. Seeing him simply sit there, asking nothing of her or the stewards, she could only continue to sit with him.

Lu Shenru, however, took her hand in his. At first, her fingers stiffened slightly, but gradually, they relaxed and softened in his grasp.

This stewards’ meeting hall was a place the Marquis rarely visited. Even Grand Steward Zong seldom came unless for crucial household affairs.

As he looked at the woman beside him, he couldn’t help but smile, thinking of how she sat so primly, yet her gaze kept drifting to the begonia in the courtyard.

She had actually come to handle his affairs? And putting on such a proper air…

But since she was already here, if he were to abruptly take her away, the servants might speculate that the Lady of the House lacked authority, which would compromise her standing as the Marchioness.

Indeed, the stewards and servants were already sneaking glances their way.

They saw the Marquis radiating satisfaction, holding his wife’s hand, while she remained seated as before. The Marquis, noticing their pause, spoke up.

“The Marchioness is listening. Continue.”

The servants quickly averted their curious gazes. Though they had been discussing trivial household matters earlier—things the Marchioness might tolerate—they dared not waste the Marquis’s time with such minutiae.

Exchanging glances, the stewards signaled for the servants to report only the most pressing matters.

In less than a quarter hour, the drawn-out reports wrapped up abruptly.

As the servants made to leave the hall, Du Lingjing was still making sense of it all.

So soon?

She blinked, watching as the hall emptied. Then she turned to look at the Marquis beside her.

The man smiled at her. “Tired of sitting? Let’s take a walk.”

Du Lingjing nodded and followed him out.

He never let go of her hand, and she acquiesced. But when they reached the begonia tree in the courtyard, he suddenly stopped and asked softly,

“This begonia is blooming beautifully. Should we move it to our courtyard?”

Du Lingjing stiffened, puzzled by his sudden suggestion. Then it struck her—she had been caught admiring the flowers instead of listening. She flushed slightly.

“Ah… no need.”

Yet he laughed and gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

“It’s no trouble. If you like it, we’ll move it.”

With that, he summoned a servant and instructed them to transplant the tree later.

An odd thought occurred to Du Lingjing—had he noticed her distraction earlier?

But if even the stewards and servants hadn’t noticed her gazing at the flowers, how could he have known?

She couldn’t figure it out, and he offered no explanation, simply leading her by the hand toward the rear gardens of the estate.

The Yongding Marquis’s residence was located in Jiqing Ward, near the northwest corner of the imperial city. Adjacent to the palace, the Taiping Granary, and the Huguo Temple, the quarter housed only the elite. Even so, the Yongding Marquis’s estate occupied nearly half the lane south of the granary.

At its peak, the Yongding household had thrived—evident from the vast compound of courtyards and gates.

But after the war in the Hongqi 14th year, the Marquis’s family had been decimated. Not only the direct line but the cadet branches too had been halved.

As for the main lineage, Du Lingjing realized as she looked around the vast estate, only Lu Shenru was left.

He led her deeper inside.

Passing two large, locked courtyards, he said quietly, “These belonged to my second and third uncles.”

No one lived there now.

On their wedding day, he had taken her to the ancestral hall. Beneath the tablet of his grandfather, the old Marquis of Yongding, were the tablets of his three sons. Beside his father’s tablet was his mother’s—long passed. Though his two aunts still lived, they had left the capital, likely residing in retired widowhood in their rural hometown.

The great house had fallen, leaving only him to uphold the Marquis’s hereditary privilege and guard the northwestern frontier.

Though the household was sparse, he still commanded the 200,000-strong Yongding Army, a burden he alone carried.

Now, he pointed to a small, freshly renovated courtyard ahead.

“No one lives here either, but this was Her Highness’s residence. It’s renovated every year.”

Du Lingjing looked over and saw a modest courtyard with a small Jiangnan-style pavilion, fastidiously kept but unmistakably vacant.

She glanced silently at the man beside her.

Not only did he bear the weight of the Yongding Army, but he also had to support the imperial consort and Prince Hui in the palace…

When he turned back to her, that unaccountable softness in his gaze remained undimmed. Softly, he asked,

“The estate’s gardens were designed by the Ministry of Works, patterned after the palace gardens. They’re quite charming. Shall we take a look?”

Before Du Lingjing could respond, Chong Ping approached from behind.

“My Lord, your advisors request an audience.”

The Marquis paused, some of the light leaving his eyes. Instead of answering Chong Ping immediately, he turned to Du Lingjing.

“Would you like to stroll the gardens? I’ll return shortly.”

Though she had little interest in the estate’s gardens, she nodded despite herself.

“Alright.”

His dark eyes caught the sunlight, lingering on her face a moment longer. Only when Du Lingjing began to feel uneasy did he finally release her hand and depart.

He left with Chong Ping, instructing Chong An to show her to the gardens.

Qiu Lin followed, first dusting off Du Lingjing’s hand—the one the Marquis had held—and grumbling quietly,

“His Lordship is rather attached, isn’t he?”

“…” Du Lingjing grew awkward.

She signaled Qiu Lin to stop her wild talk and followed Chong'an further inside.

They hadn't gone far when several white geese suddenly burst from the grass.

Du Lingjing took a closer look—they were Taihu geese from Huzhou, with long, elegant necks, snow-white feathers, and a regal bearing. Only their eyes were rather sharp.

Just as Du Lingjing recalled reading in someone’s travelogue that these geese rivalled guard dogs and could even fend off thieves at night, the geese suddenly charged toward them.

Qiu Lin gasped and quickly shielded Du Lingjing, pulling her aside.

Chong'an hadn't expected the geese to be so bold.

These reckless geese actually dared to lunge at the Marquis’s most treasured person, who he cradled like porcelain.

He immediately struck at them with his scabbard, but since the garden was rarely visited, the geese considered themselves the masters. The leader even dueled with Chong'an.

Unable to draw his blade in front of the lady, Chong'an could only fend off the geese with his scabbard. Down flew in all directions as the skirmish went back and forth.

Qiu Lin couldn't help but burst into laughter.

Du Lingjing also found it amusing.

Still, Qiu Lin worried the geese might harm her mistress and steered Du Lingjing toward another path.

After a few steps, they noticed several small courtyards nestled among the trees, not far from the main residence.

Qiu Lin blinked and blurted out,

“Officially, there’s no word of the Marquis having concubines, but could there be unofficial ones without standing?”

Having only recently married into the household, Du Lingjing hadn’t seen the Marquis present any women to serve her tea.

She said she didn’t know, but Qiu Lin eyed the courtyards—clearly meant for concubines—and whispered,

“My lady, do you remember the rumors outside?” She blinked. “That Tatar songstress from Bingzhu Tower disappeared a few years ago. People say she became his secret mistress.”

Du Lingjing recalled the rumor—that the exotic beauty resided in his private chambers, wildly favored, and had already borne him three sons and two daughters… At the thought, she couldn’t help but remember the feverish dream she’d had upon first hearing the gossip.

In the dream, he doted on the exotic beauty, but in a dizzying twist, the beauty had transformed into her.

Du Lingjing froze, only to hear Chong'an—who had somehow driven off the geese—approaching. She burst out with a soft laugh.

Qiu Lin thought she’d whispered softly enough, but Chong'an had clearly overheard. Embarrassed, she decided to address it head-on.

“Guard An, is the rumor true? If the Marquis has concubines—or if a Tatar woman has already borne him heirs—shouldn’t the lady be informed?”

The question nearly made Chong'an choke, but when he glanced up, he saw the Marquis had returned.

Chong'an dared not openly laugh, but noticing the Marquis close his eyes—clearly having heard Qiu Lin—he fought harder to contain his laughter, biting his lip to keep it in.

Seeing the Marquis approach, Qiu Lin also pursed her lips.

Du Lingjing, too, felt awkward, as if she were the one questioning him.

Yet his gaze locked onto her.

For a moment, he didn’t speak, only walked toward her with an unbroken gaze.

Chong'an signaled Qiu Lin to step aside, leaving only the two of them.

The breeze rippled the autumn water in the small pond, wafting its moisture into the fluttering hems of their robes.

Du Lingjing awkwardly averted her eyes, studying the ground, while he stepped so close their toes nearly touched, their breath mingling.

With a resigned tilt of his head, he leaned close to her ear.

“Quan Quan,” he murmured, “I have no concubines, no chamber women.”

He sighed softly. “And certainly no Tatar princess or songstress who has borne me children.”

“…”

Du Lingjing was too embarrassed to respond.

This was entirely Qiu Lin’s doing for being too curious.

She could only whisper, “I know.”

Yet he added, “I have only you.”

Suddenly, Du Lingjing remembered their unconsummated wedding night.

As if reading her thoughts, he whispered,

“I’ll wait for you.”

The faint breeze couldn’t disperse the dampness clinging between them.

Her pulse quickened as she stood frozen.

But the man, shaking off the awkwardness and helplessness from the rumors, took her hand again and pointed with a smile at the rock garden of Taihu rocks behind the pond.

“Let’s climb up there; from there, we can see a corner of the imperial city and the moat outside the ward. The view is quite beautiful.”

Still in a daze, her long lashes fluttered slightly. Though startled, she wasn’t tense or stiff.

Without her noticing, he had already led her to the hexagonal pavilion atop the rockery.

The wind rustled from the direction of the imperial city.

Glancing at the woman beside him and his entire estate, his lips curled higher.

Here, it was only him and her—no one else.

*

Though the capital was deep in autumn, Yongding Marquis’s residence in Jiqing Ward enjoyed perpetual spring.

Marquis Lu’s happiness since his marriage was evident to the entire capital.

Months earlier, someone had filed an accusation to the Emperor, accusing the Shaanxi Regional Military Commission.

Since the Commission was entirely composed of Yongding Army veterans—the Marquis’s own men—the memorial alleged that they were aggressively annexing military farmland, confiscating peasants’ land, and diverting the land under their commanders’ names. It demanded strict investigation and punishment.

Once this matter arose, Prince Yong’s faction swiftly piled on, calling for a full investigation while implicating the entire Yongding Army. They openly and covertly took shots at the Marquis’s household for allowing soldiers to oppress civilians and accused Marquis Lu Shenru of commanding too many troops that needed severe curbing.

The Emperor turned a blind eye to the Marquis’s household, but with the spring drought causing nationwide grain shortages, he had little choice but to order a strict investigation into Shaanxi’s military farms.

To everyone’s surprise, after several months, they’d turned up evidence.

In the Shaanxi region, there were indeed people who oppressed commoners, hoarded land, and evaded grain taxes.

But it wasn’t the Shaanxi Regional Military Commission, nor the Yongding Army, and certainly not Marquis Lu. Instead, it was several imperial relatives with fiefdoms in Shaanxi.

This not only embarrassed the accusers but also made everyone nervous.

Instead of catching the Jiang Shi in any wrongdoing, they had handed Marquis Lu leverage against them through their false accusations.

In the past, the Marquis would have seized the opportunity to uproot those who had smeared him—having them dismissed from office and exiling them from the capital at the least, or seizing their assets and exiling at worst.

But this time, a smiling Marquis Lu merely smiled in court upon hearing the news and soon issued a statement.

He spoke of teaching through gentleness and tolerance, not returning evil for evil, and that heaven values all life.

With these few words, he let the matter go, and the storm of bloodshed vanished without a trace.

His unexpected mercy left the court officials at a loss for days.

The court, too, remained uncharacteristically calm for some time.

Naturally, the Emperor bestowed upon the Marquis of Yongding numerous treasures, which went without saying.

Du Lingjing also gradually returned to her routine.

The Marquis had instructed her not to attend the management office anymore, instead ordering the steward to report to her every two weeks on the household’s pressing matters, such as dealings with other households.

Du Lingjing reflected that this indeed saved her much trouble. She wasn’t interested in overseeing the household’s affairs, but the steward’s briefings helped her quickly understand the connections within the capital and even the entire court, giving her a good grasp.

She consented.

But Ruan Gong came to her with news.

Recalling how she had been led to the outskirts of the capital by eight valuable Song dynasty texts, she had asked Ruan Gong to seek out her father’s old friend, Mr. Zhang, who operated a bookstore in the outer city, to inquire if there was anything unusual about it.

It was possible she had been purposely drawn to the capital.

However, Ruan Gong reported back that Mr. Zhang had left some days ago, saying he was going on a trip, and “has not yet returned—the bookstore is closed.”

Du Lingjing arched an eyebrow.

She was reminded of the Hu siblings’ disappearance, after which her younger brother Zhan Ming had noted others who had also gone missing, such as Mr. Liao Xu.

Both the Hu siblings and Mr. Liao Xu were people she knew, and Shao Boju had previously tried to force a marriage arrangement with her through Madam Wan and her uncle…

At this thought, Du Lingjing instructed Ruan Gong to look further into Mr. Zhang’s whereabouts and also listed several others—her father’s old friends or students—saying, “Send someone to check on these people and see if anything is amiss.”

Ruan Gong became serious and hurried away to carry out the orders.

As autumn deepened, Chang Pu traveled back and forth to Qingzhou and returned to the marquis’ residence, bringing along Shopkeeper Zhao from the Du Publishing House.

Ai Ye figured their travel time—they were supposed to arrive the day before but only entered the capital in the afternoon.

Du Lingjing asked, “Was the journey safe?”

Chang Pu said it was but pointed at Shopkeeper Zhao, “The shopkeeper insisted on visiting the marquis’ tall tower outside the city yesterday, which set us back half a day.”

Shopkeeper Zhao, a plump-faced man with a merchant’s demeanor, kept looking around upon entering the marquis’ residence. After bowing to Du Lingjing, he exclaimed,

“Who would have thought that after leaving home, the young lady would marry into the Marquis of Yongding’s household? The grandeur of a marquis’ estate is truly extraordinary—I’m truly impressed.”

As he spoke, he pulled out a box from his sleeve containing a mutton-fat jade plaque as a wedding gift for her.

Qiu Lin said nothing but accepted it on Du Lingjing’s behalf. Then Shopkeeper Zhao added,

“Young lady, did you call me to the capital to reestablish Mian Tower here?”

His eyes brightened as he continued, “Yesterday, I saw the marquis’ tall tower—they say it was part of your betrothal gifts from the Marquis. Ah, won’t Mian Tower and our publishing house become the foremost library in the north?!”

Qiu Lin nearly rolled her eyes at his naive enthusiasm.

Du Lingjing, however, showed no reaction and simply replied,

“That tower belongs to the marquis’ household—it’s not for my use. I called you here only to open a new publishing house in the capital. There’s no need to buy a tower, so don’t get your hopes up.”

At this, Shopkeeper Zhao’s posture slumped.

“The Marquis thinks so highly of you, gifting you such a grand tower—are you truly not going to use it?”

Before Du Lingjing could answer, Qiu Lin finally snapped.

“Did Third Master treat you poorly in the past? All you talk about now is the marquis’ household.”

Shopkeeper Zhao winced and lowered his head at her rebuke.

Du Lingjing fell silent for a moment before asking Shopkeeper Zhao and Chang Pu,

“Did you pass through Baoding on your way here?”

Chang Pu nodded, saying they had stayed there for a night. When Du Lingjing inquired about the search for someone in Baoding, Chang Pu said there was no news yet.

Du Lingjing could only nod before asking, “Then did you see Liulang?”

Shopkeeper Zhao said he had. “The Jiang family entrusted me to deliver some supplies to Jiang Sixth Master, so I met with him.”

At Du Lingjing’s prompting, he explained that Jiang Fengchuan was indeed in Baoding helping with the search.

“Sixth Master said the missing individuals from the academy all happened to know Third Master, and now none of them can be found.”

Du Lingjing paused.

“All of them knew Third Master?”

Shopkeeper Zhao confirmed.

“You know how it is—Sixth Master never neglects anything related to Third Master. Even though Third Master has passed, Sixth Master said he would still search for these people on his behalf. Once found, he would inform Third Master, so he wouldn’t worry in the afterlife.”

As he recounted Jiang Liulang’s words, Du Lingjing fell silent, her gaze drifting to the Song dynasty books on the desk.

Liulang was an outcast of the clan. His birth father had quarreled with the family and left, his mother’s whereabouts unknown. He grew up in the countryside, relying on the kindness of villagers.

Once, when Third Master returned to his hometown, he found Liulang being chased away for stealing a villager’s pancake. In the dead of winter, the boy wore tattered clothes and had no shoes. So Third Master took him home.

Third Master’s mother was also frail, and the couple had only one child—Third Master himself. Thus, they kept the abandoned boy as their foster son.

Liulang was two years younger than Third Master, but due to years of malnutrition, he looked four or five years younger.

He followed Third Master everywhere. Third Master gave him a name, a courtyard of his own, and personally taught him to read.

The year Third Master placed first in the provincial exams at sixteen, before the Jiang Shi could even celebrate, Liulang ran through the streets shouting the news.

“My brother! My brother ranked first in the provincial exams! My brother is the provincial champion!”

He shouted as if he wanted the whole city to know that his brother had become the provincial champion, making Sanlang both amused and helpless.

But that year’s success exhausted Sanlang's vital energy, and he was unable to participate in the metropolitan examinations the following year. He had hoped to recover slowly, but his health never improved. When the metropolitan exams came, he could only sit alone in the quiet study, gazing northward at the distant spring capital.

Liulang understood his thoughts and devoted himself entirely to studying for the provincial exams.

He said that as long as he could pass, “I’ll carry my brother on my back to the capital myself next spring. Then we brothers can take the exams together and support each other.”

He kept his word. In the seventh year of the Yin You Dynasty, he indeed passed as a provincial graduate.

Though his placement was among the lowest, he was as thrilled as though Sanlang had already entered the examination hall.

His mentor detained him in Jinan, where he wrote five letters to Sanlang, urging him to prepare for the journey. Once he returned from Jinan, they would set off for the capital before the New Year.

Sanlang was also overjoyed.

But he only wrote seven or eight letters to old friends and fellow examination candidates, hoping they would, for the sake of past camaraderie, help his younger brother in the future.

That year, however, he only had time to send Liulang a brief reply, telling him to stay in Jinan and focus on his studies, before departing this world.

When Liulang rushed back upon hearing the news of his death, even his hair bun had come undone.

At that time, the entire Jiang Shi clan was in mourning, with everyone weeping before the funeral hall. But he stood outside and asked, slowly and deliberately:

“Why did my brother die?”

Sanlang’s illness had persisted for years, and everyone had expected his early demise.

But he only stood in the wind before the funeral hall and asked again:

“Why did my brother die?”

He said they had promised to go to the capital together for the metropolitan exams. He had finally passed, and they were only a few months away—just a few months.

He had said he would carry his brother to the capital, into the examination hall, no matter what.

“So why did my brother die?!”

When Du Lingjing stepped out of the funeral hall, he saw her and asked in a hoarse voice:

“Sister-in-law, why?”

Du Lingjing couldn’t count the tears she shed that day, nor did she know how to comfort Liulang.

Liulang silently changed into mourning clothes and said, “I will observe the full three-year mourning period for my brother.”

There was no precedent for a younger brother to observe such heavy mourning for an elder brother. The clan chided him for being unreasonable—three months was enough.

He only scoffed, “Three months? My brother is only worth three months?”

The clan forbade it, but they couldn’t stop him. With the metropolitan exams approaching, emissaries from Jinan urged him repeatedly to go to the capital. He ignored them, secluding himself at home and truly maintaining a full year of mourning rites for Sanlang.

It wasn’t until the following year, when rumors spread about the Jiang and Du families discussing the matter of “the brother’s legacy passing to the brother,” that his parents forcibly compelled him to leave the house.

He still didn’t want to leave, but his parents said, “If you care, you should complete the journey your third brother couldn’t finish for him.”

That day, he acquiesced.

Du Lingjing met him in front of Encouragement Tower.

From afar, she saw someone emerge from the dawn mist.

He was wearing a bamboo-green robe, Sanlang’s favorite, and leading the white Western steed that Sanlang had ridden when she first met him.

The moment he stepped out of the dawn mist, she stood at the gate of Encouragement Tower and couldn’t help but whisper:

“Sanlang…”

Only when he drew near did she see clearly, silently wiping the tears from her eyes' corners.

He took his leave of her, saying he was leaving to travel for scholarly pursuits.

She prepared additional journey expenses for him, but he refused, only asking her one question:

“I’ll go to the capital in Third Brother’s place, pass the imperial exams, and return. Sister-in-law, will you await him to attain that distinction?”

“I will.”

Most certainly.

But the wind blew in from the secluded courtyards of the capital’s stately mansions, and before her eyes was no longer Qingzhou and Encouragement Tower, but the Marquis's estate of Yongding.

Du Lingjing was momentarily lost in thought.

“How is Liulang… doing?”

Shopkeeper Zhao said Jiang Sixth Master was well, “Just weary from his searches, a bit thinner, but now he bears rather some resemblance to Third Master.”

Realizing they were in the marquis’s residence, he hastily ceased speaking.

Du Lingjing asked another question.

“Did he say anything else?”

Shopkeeper Zhao glanced up at her.

“Sixth Master did say something.”

Du Lingjing showed no surprise.

Shopkeeper Zhao continued, “Sixth Master said he would come to the capital personally to visit you, madam.”

Du Lingjing fell silent as the wind set the doors and windows creaking.

“I see.”

As she spoke, she heard an announcement from outside. Looking up, she saw the marquis, clad entirely in black, returning from outside. The moment he saw her, he smiled.

“I brought you some Liaohua sweets.”

Du Lingjing hesitated briefly, and the others in the hall also appeared to stiffen for a moment.

The atmosphere, which had been springlike warmth earlier, now carried a hint of autumn’s chill.

The man who had been beaming with happiness in the capital lately arched a barely noticeable brow. His expression remained unchanged as his gaze swept over everyone before settling on his new bride.

Nothing seemed amiss.

Then who could be coming?