Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Is someone coming?

Lu Shenru watched his new wife. Seeing her gaze didn’t meet his, he didn’t press, simply taking a seat beside her, his expression unchanged.

Shopkeeper Zhao was already awestruck by the grandeur of the marquis’ estate, thinking he should pay his respects to this new son-in-law, the marquis, though he doubted he’d get the opportunity.

This was, after all, the Marquis of Yongding. In the past, even if he bankrupted himself trying to win favor, it would have been hard to secure an audience with the marquis.

Yet here the marquis was.

He watched as the man seated himself right beside his lady, placing the Liaohua candy he had brought for her to the side before turning to address him directly.

“Shopkeeper Zhao?”

Shopkeeper Zhao gaped in astonishment—the exalted Marquis of Yongding actually recognized him.

He scrambled forward with a bow, and Du Lingjing was also surprised he recognized the man, shooting him a brief glance.

The marquis, catching her glance, explained that Du’s Mianlou’s printing of ancient texts for widespread circulation was largely thanks to Shopkeeper Zhao’s efforts. “I’ve heard a thing or two about it.”

Overwhelmed, Shopkeeper Zhao lavished praise on the marquis with a few more words, prompting another eye-roll from Qiu Lin.

But Lu Shenru ignored this, only asking him,

“You’ve come through Baoding by now, I presume? How are things there?”

His question echoed Du Lingjing’s earlier inquiry, but then he paused and looked at Shopkeeper Zhao.

“A few days ago, Zhan Ming mentioned that Jiang Liulang was also in Baoding. Did you see him, Shopkeeper Zhao?”

His tone was casual, as if it were an afterthought.

Yet they’d just been discussing Jiang Sixth Master moments before the marquis arrived—and abruptly cut off.

Now, with one casual comment, he had picked up the thread again.

Even Du Lingjing blinked in surprise. He couldn’t have overheard their earlier talk.

Shopkeeper Zhao faltered.

With Third Master gone and the marquis now married to the lady, he couldn’t exactly bring up Jiang Sixth Master’s intention to visit her in the capital.

He only said they had coincidentally met, but as for the matter of coming to the capital, his gaze darted toward his lady.

Catching her subtle head shake, he quickly replied,

“Reporting to the marquis, I just exchanged greetings with Jiang Sixth Master by chance before taking my leave.”

“Is that so?”

The marquis smiled enigmatically.

Only then did Shopkeeper Zhao fully grasp the gravity of the nobleman’s presence. Leaving out that one detail had him breaking out in a nervous sweat.

Thankfully, the lady stepped in, telling him to go rest. “You’ve had a long journey; you should rest. Go on.”

Shopkeeper Zhao dared not linger and hastily excused himself. The others in the room also withdrew.

A heavy silence descended on the room.

Though the marquis hadn’t received a straight answer from Shopkeeper Zhao, the others’ reactions had told him all he needed to know.

But from the corner of his eye, he had also seen the lady give a barely perceptible head shake at the shopkeeper.

If she chose not to discuss it, he wouldn’t push the matter.

He studied her in silence and asked what she had eaten for lunch. “If you’re tired of the cooks’ fare, we can hire a few more.”

The marquis’ kitchen already had eight cooks, each with their own specialties. Du Lingjing hadn’t worked her way through all their dishes yet, let alone grown weary of them.

Her mind was still preoccupied with the matter of Liulang and Third Master, so she dismissed the idea briefly before asking, “Did the marquis return for any particular reason?”

When he shook his head, she said, “Then I’ll organize some books for Shopkeeper Zhao to take back.”

At his nod, she withdrew to the adjoining study.

She sat at the desk for a long while before her thoughts quieted. Then she gathered the recently restored volumes.

She had spent years repairing ancient texts, immersed in the work since her father’s time.

At first, it was simply to preserve the writings of the ancients, fearing they would be lost to time, their pages crumbling beyond repair. She painstakingly restored and copied them.

Later, she realized transcription was the easy part. Some damaged texts had gaps where words were missing or illegible, making direct restoration impossible. She had to carefully deduce the missing passages, sometimes rereading entire works multiple times to grasp the author’s intent and fill in the blanks.

The meticulous work resembled weaving a beautiful but incomplete garment. Each time she finished restoring a text and reviewed it from start to end, a profound quiet contentment washed over her—affirmation that her years of study hadn’t been wasted.

Then she would curate appropriate texts for Shopkeeper Zhao to print and distribute, bringing these nearly forgotten works back to life among scholars once more.

Through literature, she connected with the ancients and kept Mianlou’s mission alive—collecting books and inviting guests to read together.

Du Lingjing remained in the study until evening. When she finally looked up to check the sky, she saw someone bringing a lamp.

“It’s grown dark. Even with a lamp, your eyes must be tired. Shall I massage your pressure points for you?”

She was indeed weary, but she couldn’t very well order the marquis around. Politely declining, she called for Ai Ye to deliver the books to Shopkeeper Zhao.

The marquis had dinner served, and by the time they finished, night had fully fallen.

Instead of retiring to his study, he stayed, and Du Lingjing noticed the packet of Liaohua candy.

Earlier, upon his return, his first words had been about the candy, its aroma still warm and fragrant.

Now, the sweets had cooled.

She walked over and picked it up, only to hear him ask,

“Would you like some? It’s not as good cold. I’ll have someone fetch fresh ones tomorrow. Let’s leave this for now.”

He had gone out of his way to bring the candy, only for the afternoon’s events to interrupt. Feeling somewhat guilty, Du Lingjing assured him it was fine.

She unwrapped it, pinched off a small piece, and inhaled—it was indeed from the shop outside Longfu Temple, a flavor she hadn’t tasted in ages.

She took a small bite, and Lu Shenru watched.

When she took three more bites in quick succession, he stepped closer. A faint sweetness from the candy began to permeate the room.

It had been so long since Du Lingjing had tasted this flavor that she couldn’t help but eat a few more pieces.

She remembered the other day at Chengqing Quarter, when everyone mentioned Mr. Liao Xu, and she had thought about how he often brought her Liaohua sweets from Longfu Temple.

But that day, she had merely kept the thought to herself and hadn’t voiced it.

She admitted he was good at guessing her thoughts, but how could he possibly guess something like this?

She blinked, glancing up at him.

"My lord, won’t you have some? Do you usually have it often?"

It was rare for her to take the initiative to ask him anything, and Lu Shenru was momentarily taken aback. He studied her carefully before replying.

"I’ve only had it once or twice—it’s a tad too sweet for my taste. But since you like it, I’ve already arranged for it to be bought whenever you like."

He added, smiling, "Or perhaps we could simply hire a pastry chef from that shop to work in the manor’s kitchen."

He replied at length, but Du Lingjing, staring at the Liaohua sweets and the man before her, felt a jolt of surprise.

He truly knew her preference for this.

There were other shops in the capital that sold Liaohua sweets, but she only liked Longfu Temple’s version.

Even this detail, he knew.

But it had been years since she’d been to the capital and hadn’t eaten Longfu Temple’s Liaohua sweets for years.

How did he know?

Du Lingjing fell silent for a moment, her hand pausing as she held the candy.

The sugary scent in the room, whether burned away by the candlelight or not, disappeared abruptly.

Lu Shenru noticed her hesitation and shut his eyes for a beat.

Of course. When had she ever taken the initiative to care about him? Her question had been probing, testing him—and yet, in a moment of distraction, he had revealed the truth to her.

When he opened his eyes again to look at her, he said bluntly.

"You do like it, don’t you? A few days ago, I sent someone to ask the servants at the Du family’s old residence to learn of your preference for this."

"You even looked into this?" she asked.

She was skeptical.

Lu Shenru smiled. "Of course."

He didn’t evade but instead met her gaze directly.

"At Zhenyue Tower, when we first met, I didn’t even know your name. I never expected an imperial decree would arrange our marriage. I know you weren’t entirely willing, but with the emperor’s will being what it was, I had no choice. The more that was the case, the more I felt obliged to be considerate."

As he spoke, his voice lowered.

"What are you doubting, my lady?"

He had discerned the hidden suspicion in Du Lingjing’s heart and addressed it directly, now asking why she doubted him.

Du Lingjing froze.

She’d always thought Marquis Lu a stranger, yet he seemed to understand her completely.

Moreover, she’d only come from Qingzhou to fetch books, only to inexplicably end up in the capital married to him.

Ignoring the process and looking only at the result, how could she not be wary?

But he had already explained himself, and before she could even speak, he continued.

His voice grew even lower, like the stifling tension before a summer storm.

"Do you really think that apart from Jieyuan Jiang, everyone else is an outsider, unworthy of trust?"

"..."

Du Lingjing bit her lip, staring at the packet of Liaohua sweets he had eagerly brought back, only for her to let it go cold. She murmured,

"I didn’t mean that."

He didn’t reply.

Lu Shenru watched in silence his newlywed wife.

Earlier, she’d kept it from him about Jiang Liulang’s impending visit. And now, when he thought she had taken the rare initiative to care for him, it was just another test.

Was her distrust so deep that even a few casual words from Jiang Zhuxiu made her wary?

As she set the candy aside, he picked up a handkerchief and wiped her hands.

Her fingers were slightly cool, still sticky with sugar.

Her lips tasted just as sweet.

In the next moment, he swept her up.

Du Lingjing gasped in surprise as he set her down on the desk.

He lowered his head and crushed his mouth to hers.

Her eyes flew open instantly.

He kissed her harder than he had on their wedding night.

His lips pressed against hers, his nose pinning hers as he kissed her deeply, leaving her breathless in seconds.

Her breath hitched.

But to Lu Shenru, even her uneven breaths were preferable to her guarded distance.

He bit her lower lip, and her eyelashes trembled as her hands instinctively pressed against his chest. He paid no heed, tongue breaching her lips.

She held firm.

Lu Shenru took his time now.

The candlelight beside the desk flickered softly, dancing in the thickening air.

He kissed her slowly, the firelight staining her lips darker.

He lingered, wearing away her resistance, and what seemed an age later, her resolve faltered.

He seized the opening, claiming her mouth fully.

The honeyed sweetness between her lips and tongue momentarily made him lose himself.

Their mingled breaths and synchronized heartbeats resembled the undulating melodies of Jiangnan silk-and-bamboo ensemble music, rising and falling in a tangled harmony, while the candlelight flickered in time with the rhythm.

Outside the room.

Qiu Lin had assumed her mistress and the marquis were, as in previous days, one reviewing letters and the other managing estate matters.

She entered with tea, intending to refill her mistress’s cup, but the moment she pushed aside the door curtain, she froze in shock.

There, she saw her mistress perched on the edge of the desk in the marquis’s embrace, his head lowered, his nose brushing lightly against hers, their lips locked in a fervent kiss—her mistress’s shallow, rapid breaths audible even from where she stood.

Stunned, Qiu Lin hesitated for a few heartbeats before hastily retreating from the room.

Ai Ye, noticing her odd expression, approached and asked what was wrong.

Qiu Lin fumbled for words.

Gazing at the sprawling marquisate, it finally struck her—her mistress had truly married the marquis.

After a long silence, she lowered her voice and called to Ai Ye.

"Draw a bath for my lady. It may be needed tonight..."

Ai Ye paused, comprehension dawning, but quickly understood.

...

Inside the room.

Du Lingjing had lost all sense of time.

His kiss today was nothing like that night’s—it was insistent, almost smoldering, and she was utterly defenseless against it.

He, too, seemed to be losing control, his lashes lowering over his piercing gaze as his hand slid to her waist, pulling her closer.

Yet the moment his fingers pressed slightly against her, she went rigid.

Reluctantly, he softened the kiss, hoping to ease her tension, but Du Lingjing only felt her lips growing colder.

Her hands clenched tightly.

The heated exchange of breaths between them abruptly ceased.

The man paused, then let out a long sigh.

Releasing her waist, he instead grasped her arm, finally withdrawing his tongue from her lips and resting his forehead against hers.

His labored breathing seemed forcibly steadied.

He traced her face with his fingers, pressing one last kiss to her trembling eyelid before withdrawing.

His sudden withdrawal left Du Lingjing stunned.

His voice hoarse, he met her gaze.

"Don’t doubt me again in the future, all right?"

She’d all but forgotten her earlier suspicions, but his repeated question, spoken as if he’d suffered some unjust accusation, brought it back.

What else could she say? She nodded. "All right."

He gave her another lingering gaze, holding it until she grew flustered, before turning away and striding deeper into the room. Taking a deep breath, he drained the cup of cold tea in one swallow.

That night.

He still kept her nestled against him through the night.

The autumn wind rattled the window frames, but within the bed curtains, warmth enveloped them.

For some reason, Du Lingjing lay awake, turning her head for the first time to study him furtively.

The faint glow from the small lamp outside the gauze canopy cast delicate shadows along the bridge of his nose, where two faint scars of varying depths marked his skin—tokens of past campaigns.

Her gaze trailed down his straight nose, inevitably lingering on his lips.

A single glance rekindled the memory of that prolonged kiss from earlier, and she quickly averted her eyes.

Outside, the night breeze rustled the banana leaves, while the lingering sweetness of candy still perfumed the room.

She thought of the Liaohua candy—had she truly read too much into it?

She couldn’t say.

But then she recalled yet another delayed wedding night. How much longer could she keep him waiting?

The next morning, the man rose at dawn, performed his ablutions, and left for court.

*

Qiu Lin, seeing her mistress rise as usual, none the worse for wear—and no request for water the previous night—was secretly marveled.

After such a scene, the marquis had actually shown such restraint.

His treatment of her mistress was not at all what she had expected...

Unable to help herself, she murmured, "The marquis is... possessed of uncommon forbearance."

Indeed.

Du Lingjing had been surprised before, but now it seemed that a man who had ascended to such rank must possess endurance beyond ordinary men.

She truly knew so little about him.

Clearing her throat, she let the subject drop.

Qiu Lin attended to her toilette, noticing the faint puffiness of her lips and applying a dab of ointment.

Du Lingjing’s ears burned.

Just then, Ruan Gong arrived with a report—he had carried out her commission to seek out her late father’s former students and friends within the capital, and now had results.

Du Lingjing immediately focused, bidding him continue.

He relayed that several elderly acquaintances still lived peacefully at home, "but two others have also gone missing—and recently at that."

Du Lingjing was stricken. The list of missing persons grew, and all seemed connected to her father’s circle—including the vanished tutors from the academy and students, who had been in the late Third Brother’s confidence precisely because they shared his reformist leanings, championing her father’s New Policies.

Thinking this, she wanted to return to Chengqing Lane to look through her father's study for something.

But she hadn’t gone far when she was stopped.

Du Lingjing looked at the man outside the carriage window.

A hooked nose dominated his unfriendly face as Shao Wuxing spoke to her.

"Marchioness Lu, do you have a moment? My elder brother would like to see you."

Following Shao Wuxing's gaze, Du Lingjing saw Shao Boju standing beneath a tree by the riverside, arms crossed behind his back.

Chong'an frowned, signaling she didn’t have to go if she didn’t want to.

This was the Yongding Marquis's carriage—no one could get near the marchioness unless she allowed it.

Yet, after a moment's consideration, Du Lingjing got out.

Amid the bustling street crowd, Shao Boju appeared much thinner than the last time she’d seen him at Zhenyue Tower. The confident glow of a Tanhua scholar in his eyes had faded, replaced by weariness.

He got straight to the point.

"Jing didn’t want to marry me. Now that you are wed to Marquis Lu, does he treat you well?"

Du Lingjing ignored his question and asked instead, "What did Elder Brother Shao wish to discuss with me?"

Shao Boju smiled faintly. "I wanted to ask Jing for a little favor—nothing big."

He paused, glancing past Chong'an and the marquis's guards before lowering his voice.

"However, this matter concerns only you, me, and the Hu siblings—just between old friends. It has nothing to do with Marquis Lu. I wish to speak with you alone."