Chapter 26

Chapter 26

“These are matters between us old acquaintances, and have nothing to do with Marquis Lu. I only wish to discuss this with you.”

Along the waterfront street, Du Lingjing couldn't help but give Shao Boju a pointed look upon hearing this.

Shao Boju turned his gaze toward the water. The sun was still low, its faint light spreading like gauze over the river’s surface, drifting with the ripples and lending a melancholic cast to one’s gaze.

Du Lingjing heard Shao Boju say, “I don’t want things to escalate further. What good would it do—whether for me, Hu Tinglan, or anyone else? It would only expose our internal strife, giving others the chance to drag us all down.”

He didn’t specify what he meant.

She looked at Shao Boju as he withdrew his gaze from the shimmering water and turned it to her.

“I know you’ve been searching for people too, and your new husband, Marquis Lu, is surely doing the same. If you can reach him…”

Shao Boju paused here.

Du Lingjing understood he was referring to Hu Tinglan, the eldest brother of the Hu family.

Hu Tingjun, the youngest sister of the Hu family, had told her that despite the Shao family’s vast wealth and influence, they had no place for the descendants of the third and fourth branches. Generational grudges had persisted into Shao Boju’s time.

His father, a son born to a concubine, was ostracized in the clan due to rumors that his mother had driven the primary wife to her death out of jealousy. The main and second branches suppressed them relentlessly, leaving them impoverished and abandoned. In his youth, Shao Boju was barred from the clan school. His father dared not protest, instead paying off the schoolmaster to let him listen outside the window.

In winter, while the other clan children studied warmly by the stove, he stood in the snow, barefoot, his hands cracked from the cold, painstakingly copying down the lessons. He waited for the teacher to step out for air, just to have his work glanced at.

The worse they treated him, the harder he studied, determined to prove himself.

Later, a subordinate of Grand Secretary Dou, out of pity for him—partly because his aunt had once served the current Emperor when he was still Prince Yin—acknowledged his talent and arranged for him to study at the capital’s academy.

When the Shao clan learned of this assistance, they only scorned him further. His father suffered even greater oppression within the clan, and when Shao Boju left for the capital, he didn’t even have money for new clothes.

That year, it was his classmate Hu Tinglan who lent him his own clothes and asked his sister, Hu Tingjun, to sew two thick winter coats for him, helping him endure the bitter cold.

Shao Boju had no means to repay them. But the following spring, when the Hu siblings were urgently called back to Cangzhou, they were captured by bandits on the road. The outlaws began executing hostages one by one, using them to bargain with the authorities.

When Du Lingjing heard Hu Tingjun recount this, her voice still shook with remembered fear. Yet, it was Shao Boju who, upon hearing of their plight, somehow slipped into the bandits’ lair. Covered in blood when he emerged, she hadn’t even recognized him—only her brother recognized him, crying out, “Boju?”

At that moment, Shao Boju’s eyes lit up. Ignoring his own injuries, he slashed through the siblings’ bonds, carried the injured Hu Tingjun on his back, and dragged Hu Tinglan by the hand, racing down the mountain.

That night, he said, “At least now I’ve repaid some of what I owe you.”

Thus, they formed a life-and-death bond. When Tingjun later married, Shao Boju contributed more to her dowry than even her own brother, leaving Hu Tinglan shaking his head in disbelief. Shao Boju just pulled him into a drinking bout...

These memories were like morning light on water—beautiful, yes, but shattered at the first ripple.

Shao Boju paused before continuing.

“If you can reach him, deliver a message for me.”

He lowered his voice. “It shouldn’t have come to this between us. If he’s willing to meet me, we can speak openly and find a way to make this right—better than letting outsiders exploit our past ties. As for the others, I won’t harm them again. Won’t he trust me one last time?”

As he spoke, his emotions seemed to surge, and he took a deep breath to steady himself.

Du Lingjing remained silent for a moment, so Shao Boju called her name.

“Jing, you want this over with too, don’t you? If you can reach him, please deliver my words.”

His tone suggested he believed she could contact the Hu siblings and the other missing individuals.

After a pause, Du Lingjing nodded. “Very well.”

“Aside from this, is there anything else you wish to say to me, Brother Shao?”

Though Shao Boju’s message urged Hu Tinglan to trust him again, he still wouldn’t say what had caused this rift.

Du Lingjing recalled testing the Shao brothers earlier—just hinting that the Hu siblings might have left something by the western side of Jishui Pond had sent them rushing to search.

Clearly, the Shao brothers were compromised, with incriminating evidence in the hands of the Hu siblings and their allies. They were desperate to retrieve it, but the others had gone into hiding with the proof.

Unable to locate them and afraid the evidence would get out, Shao Boju now sought reconciliation through their old bonds—using her as a messenger.

Yet he still refused to reveal what exactly he was accused of.

When she pressed him, Shao Boju merely chuckled and changed the subject.

“I came in haste and didn’t prepare a wedding gift for you.”

Du Lingjing wasn’t in the mood for small talk, but his eyes darted toward the Yongding Marquisate’s carriage and guards, and his tone shifted.

“Truthfully, I never imagined you’d marry into the Yongding Marquisate. But Marquis Lu is no ordinary man.”

His voice softened, laced with complexity.

“Though of similar age to us, Lu Shenru already commands the entire Yongding Army. His influence is vast, his power immense—a true power player at court, unfathomably cunning. Whether as foe, friend, or even his wife, one must tread carefully.”

Du Lingjing’s brows furrowed slightly as he continued, his voice gentler.

“What Lu Shenru seeks is likely beyond what most can offer. Jing, don’t trust him lightly.”

With that, Shao Boju fell silent. Noticing Chong'an summoning additional guards, he remarked, “Marquis Lu is certainly attentive—guarding you so closely.”

Then he turned and left.

Du Lingjing remained by the water, while Shao Wuxing hurried to Shao Boju’s side and whispered,

“Brother, those people are stubborn. Will sending a message through her really work? Will they hand over the evidence and the people?”

Before he could finish, Shao Boju shot him a glare.

“Even so, you are not to resort to extermination—especially not the Hu siblings. Leave them be!”

Shao Wuxing immediately schooled his expression and bowed in acquiescence. Then, recalling Shao Boju’s words about Lu Shenru to Du Lingjing, he asked,

“…Will Marchioness Lu believe it?”

Shao Boju said he didn’t know.

“But her heart still belongs to the past. The imperial marriage to Lu Shenru is… peculiar, to say the least. It’s hard to say if she’ll trust him. Still, if we plant even a seed of doubt about him, we might yet have a chance.”

As he spoke, he looked up to see the Marquis himself approaching from the palace gates.

The man sat tall atop his horse, and when their eyes met across the distance, his sharp brows arched slightly. Shao Boju snorted quietly and muttered to Shao Wuxing,

“Every word I just said to Jing was the truth, wasn’t it?”

…

When they passed each other, Shao Boju offered a polite smile. Lu Shenru pressed his lips together and said nothing.

He had just returned from court when he heard that this man had intercepted his wife's carriage, and to his irritation, she had actually listened to Shao Boju's nonsense for some time.

Chong'an cleared the onlookers by the street, but she did not return to the carriage, standing alone by the water's edge as the breeze lifted the hem of her skirt.

The man approached, unfastening his cloak. He was certain Shao Boju had spoken no good of him. Yesterday, she had questioned him about the *liaohua* candy, and today, she would likely be even less inclined to speak to him.

He stepped behind her and wrapped the cloak around her.

“It’s windy and cold—what are you doing standing here?”

His voice carried a note of brooding displeasure. Du Lingjing turned to look at him.

He was still dressed in his court robes—crimson embroidered with qilin, a black gauze cap, a jade belt at his waist, and black boots. The pinnacle of a minister's dignity.

Standing tall by the street, he alone made the entire street seem dull by comparison.

He didn’t look at her, only tightening the cloak around her, enveloping her completely within its folds.

“You’ll catch your death standing here. Let’s go home.”

His arched brows and ink-dark eyes held a trace of displeasure.

So he had guessed Shao Boju hadn’t spoken well of him?

Du Lingjing didn’t take his suggestion, pausing where she stood.

Seeing this, the man gave a low chuckle.

Just yesterday, she had vowed not to question him again…

She wouldn’t believe his words, but her own promises to him were just as fleeting.

He waited, curious to see what she would do, only for her to speak softly.

“Are you free, Marquis? There’s something I’d like to discuss.”

She gestured, inviting him to walk along the street.

Lu Shenru was momentarily stunned. She lifted her gaze to him, and he had no choice but to follow her into the busy street. As they walked, she recounted every word Shao Boju had said to her, speaking softly but clearly.

The man was astonished. She had laid out everything plainly, only pausing at the end to glance at him.

“Of course, Shao Boju didn’t say anything favorable about you either.”

She had been entirely honest with him. Lu Shenru hadn’t expected this. For a moment, he wanted to ask what slander that man had whispered to his wife, but he swallowed the question—there was no point dwelling on it.

“He wants to drive a wedge between us.”

There was an almost wounded tone in his voice.

But she didn’t respond.

Admittedly, the Marquis beside her was indeed hard to read, likely with hidden depths. But regarding the disappearances, for now, he was more trustworthy than Shao Boju.

If Shao Boju could be trusted, the Hu siblings wouldn’t have been pushed to this point.

They must hold secrets and evidence the Shao family desperately wanted to bury—hence the rupture.

The Shao brothers couldn’t earn their trust. In contrast, though the Marquis might have his own motives, leveraging his influence to find the missing quickly was paramount. Too much time had already been lost.

She looked at Lu Shenru. “What do you think, Marquis?”

The two continued walking along the street.

The man pondered briefly.

“Shao Boju knows we’re married, yet still sought you out. There may be another scheme at play, but I suspect he’s out of options.”

This aligned with Du Lingjing’s thoughts. She nodded.

Lu Shenru added, “But if he believes you can reach Hu Tinglan and relay a message, then you must have a unique connection to the missing.”

He had cut to the core of it.

Originally, Du Lingjing had planned to visit the old Chengqing residence today to search through her father’s old notes and letters. But after Shao Boju’s words, she felt no need to seek further proof.

“These people must have been my father’s former allies and followers. The court even gave them a name.”

Lu Shenru supplied the name.

“The Fu Party?”

Du Lingjing confirmed quietly.

Xunzi once said: One should follow the Dao, not the sovereign. So-called admonishing ministers could defy the ruler’s orders, seize his authority, reverse his actions—all to stabilize the nation’s crises and erase its humiliations. Their deeds were enough to secure the country’s greatest interests.

In short, they were ministers who would sacrifice the ruler for the state.

Her father had always admired Xunzi’s philosophy, believing that a minister’s duty was to serve the people and the nation. Since a ruler’s words and actions were tainted by personal desires and not always correct, blind obedience was unnecessary.

Such political thought, in the court’s eyes, was dangerously close to contempt for imperial authority and outright treason.

But in his later years, the late emperor, deeply troubled by the country’s instability, partly attributed it to this very issue. Instead of condemning it, he promoted her father to the Grand Secretariat to implement new policies.

Those who had shared her father’s political stance for years emerged, assisting the Grand Secretary in spreading the reforms.

Upright and impartial, they had initially overcome resistance with unstoppable momentum. The court began calling them remonstrating ministers—a label laden with ominous implications, branding them as threats to the throne. Yet the late emperor dismissed such concerns.

However, the late emperor soon passed away. The current emperor had no particular fondness for the reforms. Worse, when her grandfather died and her father returned home to observe filial mourning, the policies stalled. Upon his return to the capital, he died in a mountain flood, and the reforms collapsed like a collapsing dike.

After the reforms fell apart, these once-unified ministers were scattered to the winds.

Having aided her father, they had inevitably made enemies in court. Without him, they could no longer unite. Over the years, some were demoted, others resigned, and a few were even falsely accused and exiled, never to return from distant lands.

After her father’s death, they had still corresponded with Third Brother. Though frail, he had strained his frail health to maintain connections in court to support them. But when he, too, passed, only Hu Tinglan remained near the capital, securing refuge for these dispersed members of the once-idealistic Fu Party.

Now, in the tenth year of the Yin You Dynasty, six years since her father’s death, these men no longer appeared in court, merely hoping to live out their days teaching.

They must have come into possession of some shameful secret of the Shao family.

The Shaos wanted to recover the damning evidence, driving them into hiding.

Du Lingjing was filled with melancholy.

If her father had lived, or if Third Brother were still here, or had her uncle been more capable—would these once-loyal followers have been brought so low?

Or if she herself had the power to protect them?

But now, there was no one left.

Passers-by on the street occasionally brushed against her sleeves.

Lu Shenru glanced at her. “Since you’ve got this figured out, let’s quickly screen the members of the Fu Party. Whether it’s finding more people or clarifying what exactly happened, it should go smoothly.”

With his resources, as long as they gathered more information, locating people would be swift.

Du Lingjing agreed, but then turned to look at him.

“However, this matter has dragged on for too long. Rather than us searching for them bit by bit, it’d be better to have them come to me.”

This made the man raise a brow. “What does Quan Quan mean?”

Du Lingjing said bluntly,

“I want to spread the news that I intend to establish another library in the capital, collecting books across the entire Northern Metropolitan Region—whether ancient manuscripts or official publications, I want them all.”

If this news spread, and if the Fu Party members trusted her enough to seek her out, they could tuck notes or make markings in the books. Du Lingjing would then be able to track them down!

With the Shao family hunting them outside, seizing evidence or even eliminating witnesses, they were forced into hiding, weighed down by caution. Even if the court and scholars sent people to search for them, they wouldn’t dare trust easily.

But her method of luring them to pass messages was the safest.

As she spoke, Lu Shenru gave her an astonished look.

From the moment Shao Boju stopped her to now, just a few moments had passed, yet she had already zeroed in on the key issue and devised a solution.

The man couldn’t help but sigh deeply.

Her plan was truly brilliant.

He asked, “Then what do you want me to do for you?”

It was simple.

Du Lingjing’s resources were too limited, and her book-collecting news wouldn’t spread quickly on its own.

“Please spare me some hands, Marquis.”

With enough manpower, she would soon receive word from the Remonstrating Ministers.

Lu Shenru, however, chuckled. “Then let me offer you a strategy as well.”

Du Lingjing looked at him as he continued,

“Manpower is no issue. As for spreading the news, there’s actually the fastest method.”

“Do tell, Marquis.”

Her tone was stiffly polite, which Lu Shenru disliked, but he focused on the matter at hand.

“Have you forgotten the engagement gift I gave you? If you’re opening a library to collect books, why not use that very building?”

He had spent six years building the place; it was on par with the imperial Wenlan Pavilion. Across the Northern Metropolitan Region—even half of the north—its fame was unmatched, yet it had remained empty all this time.

Now, as long as the Marchioness bestowed a name upon it and opened it to collect and store books, the news would spread in a flash.

They wouldn’t even need the Yongding Marquisate’s manpower—people would naturally come running to assist them.

The man’s smiling gaze rested on her eyes.

But Du Lingjing let her gaze drop.

She had actually considered this.

However, the Lus had sunk an immense expenditure into this building, dwarfing anything her handful of small libraries could match.

Though he had given her the keys as an engagement gift, Du Lingjing didn’t see it as hers to claim.

Moreover, she didn’t know his true purpose for putting such effort into building it—certainly not for her to store books.

She said, “That would be too extravagant. I’m not wealthy enough.”

Having just gone through the family division, she could scarcely manage this book-collecting endeavor.

But the man stopped walking, shifting to stand before her.

“Do I look broke to you?”

“…”

Du Lingjing remained silent.

The man drew out an “Oh.” “So you don’t want it.”

It was too much. Once that building was opened, their ties would only deepen.

For now, she preferred to play it by ear with him—getting in too deep would be risky…

Avoiding his gaze, she said, “Let’s first see how effective the news spreads. What do you think, Marquis?”

The man didn’t reply.

Du Lingjing, too, held her tongue.

As they walked, they somehow arrived near Longfu Temple. The caramelized scent of *liaohua* candy wafted through the air, and Du Lingjing found herself looking that way, just as the shop opened its doors. A crowd had already gathered, rubbing their hands against the cold in anticipation of the fresh-baked sweets.

The moment she looked over, her companion spoke up.

“Want some, my lady?”

He added, “But I can’t buy it for you—wouldn’t want to be accused of ulterior motives and stoke your suspicions.”

“…”

He was still hung up on last night?

Du Lingjing compressed her lips, checking her waist purse, and made to go herself.

But no sooner had she moved than he caught her arm.

“You’re really going? Not worried about the crowd?”

Du Lingjing couldn’t help but look up at him.

So, was she going or not?

The man met her calm, liquid eyes, and his heart softened.

He spoke, unaware she’d speak at the same time.

“Send Chong’an to go.”

“Let Chang Pu run the errand.”

The words left their lips simultaneously, causing both to pause and glance at each other.

Their gazes met unexpectedly in that instant, and Du Lingjing’s heart skipped a beat before she quickly averted her eyes.

The man remained still, simply watching his wife.

But the most bewildered was Chong’an, who couldn’t help scratching his head.

Was it him or Chang Pu who should go?

Chang Pu, however, harbored no such confusion. She sprang forward and addressed the marquis and his wife first. “I can handle it.”

Chong’an thought it was a fine idea. After all, standing in line for candy—he was the marquis’s personal guard, and this was just about buying sweets…

He gave Chang Pu an approving look, only for her to grin and hold out her hand toward him.

“An, give me the money. I’ll buy the *liaohua* candy, and you can pay me a delivery fee. Doesn’t that wrap it up?”

Chong’an reached for his purse but stopped halfway, realizing something wasn’t right.

Getting treats for my lady—naturally, the marquis should pay. Why should he also have to give this maid a fee?

“…Why should I pay you an extra fee?”

“I run the errand, you pay. Isn’t that fair?”

“This…”

It sounded reasonable, yet something didn’t quite sit right.

The other attendants nearby stifled their laughter.

Du Lingjing also couldn’t help but press her lips together in amusement, glancing at Chang Pu. “Enough teasing. Go quickly.”

Chang Pu gave a mock salute. “As you command!” Then she turned to Chong’an. “Take your time thinking it over. I’ll front the cost for now—no rush.”

The moment the words left her mouth, everyone burst into laughter.

For some reason, Du Lingjing stole a glance at the marquis.

The marquis rubbed his temples, equal parts amused and exasperated.

Lu Shenru thought to himself, *Chong Ping’s so capable—how does he have such a brother?*

He barely noticed someone looking from beside him, but when he turned, he caught nothing.

All he saw was his man standing watch beside her, his cloak draped over her shoulders, and her standing right before him.

Unlike before, it felt like a dream.

No hurry.

*

Originally, when Shopkeeper Zhao came to the capital, it was to propose to his employer the prospect of opening another bookshop in the city. Now that Du Lingjing had truly changed her mind and decided to collect books and build a library, Shopkeeper Zhao was overjoyed.

As for the fact that this library wasn’t the grand, towering one the marquis had planned outside the city—there was no hurry.

The news of Du Lingjing’s book acquisitions spread rapidly.

She kept silent count of the days. If the message had successfully reached its recipients and they were still in Beizhili, replies should arrive within seven or eight days.

Yet after that time passed, she’d had Qiu Lin and the others carefully examine every book they’d acquired, but they found no response.

Du Lingjing sat at her desk, lost in thought.

During her years in the capital, she and Hu Tingjun hadn’t always been free to meet.

But both would occasionally peruse the bookshops near the Imperial College.

The books they read weren’t the same as those favored by the students. At first, Du Lingjing hadn’t noticed, until one day, she suddenly spotted a slip of paper tucked inside one of the volumes.

It was Tingjun’s handwriting—comments she’d jotted down and tucked into the book when she found something interesting.

Du Lingjing quietly read that same book as well, leaving her own comments and slipping them in between the pages.

When she returned a few days later, the book already contained five or six of Tingjun’s notes, including one prodding her, *“Read faster, or I’ll move on to the next book!”*

Over those years, they had left many such messages in books. Later, Tingjun carefully saved all those notes, and the two occasionally brought them up in letters.

Du Lingjing sat at her desk.

Others might not get her meaning, perhaps, but Tingjun would—she would understand at once.

Why was there nothing from her?

Had the message not reached her yet?

Two more days passed, and Du Lingjing grew more anxious.

Just then, Zhan Ming brought her news from the Baoding Academy.

Ruan Gong lowered his voice.

“Sixth Lord has gone missing in Baoding. Someone searched the places he had visited and found… bloodstains on the ground.”

Du Lingjing gasped.

But Ruan Gong quickly reassured her that it likely wasn’t serious. “The bloodstain was small. Sixth Lord has been traveling for years and knows how to handle himself. He must have simply gone to ground.”

Gone to ground—had he concealed himself alongside the Remonstrating Ministers?

Du Lingjing fell silent, only for Chang Pu to rush in as well.

She reported that news had also arrived from the hometown of the Hu family in Cangzhou.

“Lady Hu and her husband have both disappeared, leaving only their daughter in the care of an aunt. But two nights ago, someone broke into the residence in the middle of the night, attempting to kidnap the girl. They even cut her arm during the struggle.”

Du Lingjing sprang to her feet.

Liulang, the child… Was the Shao family getting desperate?

Yet she still hadn’t received any word.

Tension hung thick in the air. No one dared speak, and not even a breeze slipped through the door cracks.

But then, Chong Ping arrived in person.

He gave a deep bow to Du Lingjing before straightening and speaking.

“My lady, the marquis asks that you come beyond the city walls.”