Chapter 29

Chapter 29

The latter half of the night brought a serene stillness, the wind having ceased and the rain stopped.

Du Lingjing awoke with a parched throat, momentarily disoriented. A subtle ache lingered in her core. As she stirred to sit up, the man beside her opened his eyes.

Raised in the military, he was a light sleeper. Since their marriage, whenever she moved in the night, he would rise with her.

This night was no different. Though she hadn’t intended to disturb him, he was already sitting up.

“Why are you awake?”

The moment he spoke, Du Lingjing was abruptly reminded of the previous night.

She had initially thought the act would last no more than a quarter of an hour, and having prepared herself, she believed she could endure it.

Yet, last night, he remained in complete control. At times, even he seemed on the verge of losing restraint—large beads of sweat dripped from his forehead onto her temples, then slid down to her neck, collarbone, and chest.

But each time, he held back, gripping her waist tightly, unwilling to release her. He wiped away his own sweat from her chest, yet instead of stopping, he lifted her—sometimes pressing her against the bed, letting the carved headboard support her back as he drove deeper; other times seating her atop him, his movements entirely at his command, until the deepest hours of the night…

As the messy memories flashed through her mind, her ears burned as if lightly bitten.

She intended to get water herself, but as she moved, she realized she wore only a thin undergarment.

The man reached for a robe nearby and draped it over her shoulders.

“Do you want some tea? I’ll pour it for you.”

Before she could decline, he was already up, bare-chested, from the bed. He lit the lamp by the bedside, swiftly poured her a cup of warm tea, and passed it through the bed curtains.

Du Lingjing averted her gaze, merely adjusting the robe and sipping the tea in silence.

The night stood hushed. The chorus of insects had long vanished with the depths of autumn. After the wind and rain had ceased, only the faint crackling of the bedside lamp and their soft breaths could be heard in the darkness.

He appeared wide awake now, and for some reason, he simply sat by the bed, watching her drink slowly.

Du Lingjing shot him the briefest glance from the corner of her eye, but his sharp gaze caught hers immediately, and he chuckled softly.

“What has caught your eye, wife?”

Last night’s events made Du Lingjing reluctant to speak to him, yet he deliberately pressed the question.

She could only reply, “Doesn’t the Marquis have court to attend?”

Her voice carried a cool clarity, yet also a faint hoarseness from the previous night’s cries.

Lu Shenru paused, studying his wife for a moment before smiling lightly.

“Those tedious old men aren’t worth your husband’s daily attendance.”

Du Lingjing’s hand, holding the teacup, paused briefly.

*Husband…*

An address still foreign to her.

She said nothing, merely lowering her head to continue drinking.

The bedside lamp’s golden glow cast a hazy light through the bed curtains, slanting softly across her profile.

Lu Shenru gazed quietly at his wife.

A scholar by nature, she was accustomed to sitting quietly in the study, reading and repairing books.

Her face was fair, her ears pale as snow, luminous in the lamplight. Her brows were delicate and slender, and beneath them, her eyes reflected the clear tea in her cup, rippling like calm waters. Yet they were mostly veiled by long, fine lashes, casting crescent-shaped shadows that stretched across her elegant nose.

Captivated by the soft undulations, delicate lashes, and crescent shadows, his heart softened. His fingers moved to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. She didn’t look at him, but beneath her dainty nose, her lips pressed together slightly.

Almost without thinking, he leaned down and kissed the corner of her mouth.

Inevitably, his mind returned to the previous night—when he had whispered “Quan Quan,” and she had moaned hoarsely, his hands instinctively tightening around her slender waist.

But just as he was about to pull her into his embrace, she hurriedly placed down the cup and pressed both hands against his chest.

Her breathing turned quick and shallow, her eyes flashing with wary turbulence as she pushed against him with all her might.

“…”

The man yielded with a sigh.

“Alright.”

He could only brush a light kiss to the tip of her nose before releasing her.

After the night’s rain, the sprawling marquisate felt refreshed.

Servants swept away water and fallen leaves, trimmed broken branches, and tidied the garden’s plants, all while sharing meaningful looks about the main courtyard. “No doubt we’ll soon have a young heir.”

Early in the morning, Chong’an caught snippets of conversation—the Yongding Marquis’s household had long consisted solely of the Marquis himself. Now that the lady had married in, and the Marquis had called for water last night, would a daughter or heir come first?

Two guards were murmuring about it when Chong’an interjected, “I think it’ll be the heir first. Among the Yongding Army’s generals, most sired sons first—perhaps it’s tied to martial training. Though the Marquis no longer leads troops, his skills haven’t waned.”

He was certain the heir would come first and added, “Given His Lordship's vigor, I’d say within a year from today, the heir will arrive.”

Just as he finished speaking, her ladyship's maid, Ai Ye, happened to pass by and overheard. She snorted.

“The lady might not be in a hurry. Isn’t it too soon to speculate?”

Chong’an blinked in surprise.

Though the lady was young, the Marquis was already twenty-five.

But he wouldn't dare contradict her ladyship's personal maid. Instead, her brother Chang Pu, the page, approached upon hearing his sister’s words.

Spotting Chong’an, he grinned. “Guard An, fancy a wager? Will the heir arrive within a year, or after?”

Chong’an was about to agree—since when had he shied from gambling?

But then he suddenly remembered something. “We’re all sworn to the Yongding Army. Without the Marquis’ permission, we cannot gamble.”

Chang Pu made a show of disappointment.

Chong’an, however, mentally kicked himself for nearly falling for the boy’s trick again—last time, he’d somehow been tricked into paying him an errand fee.

And as he glanced toward the main courtyard, he thought—come early or late, an heir would arrive.

*

Main Courtyard.

Du Lingjing swallowed a whole pill and ate two small pieces of Liaohua candy to rid her mouth of the bitter taste.

She had enough to deal with already—no need for further complications.

The maid Ying Bi came to ask where she would like her meal served.

"My lady, the Marquis has gone out and instructed that you should eat well on your own."

Du Lingjing was indeed hungry and nodded, ordering the meal to be served in the hall.

She had no idea where he’d gone off to at this hour—earlier, he had pretended illness to skip court.

She couldn’t help but recall how her father, when serving as an official in the capital, had always been diligent and hardworking. After the late emperor promoted him to the cabinet, he worked even harder, rising early and retiring late.

Though he often sighed and complained—especially in autumn and winter, when attending court before dawn was truly unbearable—he never missed a session. Even when slightly ill, he forced himself to arrive early at the palace gates.

But this Marquis was different.

He simply skipped court whenever he pleased, even dismissing the senior ministers as "a pack of doddering old men."

Du Lingjing thought it odd yet oddly amusing. If her father were still alive, she wondered how he would react to such remarks.

But as for where the Marquis had gone now, she truly had no idea.

Meanwhile, Lu Shenru showed up at the Du family’s Chengqing Lane estate.

Du Zhiqi had been holed up at home for days—wherever he went, people gave him odd looks, so he might as well stay indoors.

But this only made securing an official position even more hopeless.

Unexpectedly, a servant suddenly announced, "Second Master, the Marquis has come!"

Du Zhiqi was startled and hurried to the gate, where he saw Lu Shenru speaking with Uncle Wen. They seemed to be discussing the neighbors, chatting amiably, with Lu Shenru even correcting Uncle Wen.

"Uncle Wen, no need for 'Marquis'—just 'son-in-law' will do."

The old gatekeeper chuckled and hurriedly assented.

Du Zhiqi strode over, and when Lu Shenru glanced his way, he didn’t dare assert his seniority, stepping forward to greet the Marquis respectfully.

Only then did the man speak. "Ah, Official Du. You’re here."

Of course, Du Zhiqi was here.

This Chengqing Lane estate had been handed over to him by his niece to preserve the family estate—uncontested and undivided. It was now his own home, and while waiting for an official appointment in the capital, he naturally stayed here.

Du Zhiqi wasn’t about to argue semantics with this noble lord. Unsure of his purpose, he politely invited him inside.

To his surprise, the Marquis acted as if he were no guest at all, with a nod, he strode right in.

Du Zhiqi had no choice but to follow. Once in the hall, he called for tea.

With Du Jicang and Du Zhanming absent, he had no choice but to serve the Marquis tea himself and took the opportunity to ask,

"What brings the Marquis here today?"

The man didn’t rush to answer, sipping his tea first. Instead, an advisor at his side spoke up.

"The Marquis heard that the neighboring three-courtyard residence is up for sale. Taking advantage of a rare free moment today, he came to see if the location suits. Later, it can be merged into the Du estate, giving Madam more room when she visits."

Du Zhiqi went still.

This residence had already been divided and given to him. What did Marquis Lu mean? Did he oppose the family division, wanting Jing to keep close ties?

The idea set his pulse racing—if so, securing an official post would no longer be a worry.

Yet when he glanced excitedly at his noble nephew-in-law, he found the man silently sipping his tea, gaze downcast as he swirled the leaves in his cup.

Clad in a dark brocade robe embroidered with subtle motifs, seated in an armchair, his aura loomed like gathering storm clouds, pressing low with unspoken authority.

Du Zhiqi suddenly understood.

He wasn’t suggesting the family remain undivided—he wanted the old Chengqing Lane residence for Jing.

A flash of resentment burned in him.

His niece was merely an orphan—why should she claim this capital estate from him, an official and her uncle?

But the resentment vanished just as quickly.

This estate had originally been bought by his father, expanded thanks to his elder brother’s work, and now Marquis Lu wanted to acquire the neighboring courtyard to enlarge it further. Once done, the Du residence would become among the grandest in all of Chengqing Lane.

Could a property like this ever be his?

It could only be Jing’s.

Only now did he realize his niece had truly married Lu Shenru—the formidable Marquis Lu.

Du Zhiqi’s cheek spasmed.

Biting back his feelings, he conceded it was indeed a good time for expansion. "I’d been thinking Jing’s dowry could use bolstering. It’s only right to include this estate in it."

As he spoke, he saw the Marquis finally set his cup down with a slow nod.

But the Marquis wasn’t done yet, adding indifferently,

"As for the matter of securing a post, discuss it with Jing when you see her."

He brought up the very matter gnawing at Du Zhiqi. Now, instead of holding onto the capital, he only wanted to escape its troubles.

But the Marquis told him to consult his niece.

He had once scolded her for making waves, refusing to marry as she pleased. Now, when it came to his own career, the Marquis expected him to seek her opinion.

The shame burned unbearably—yet hadn’t he brought this upon himself?

All he could manage was a strained smile. "Thank you for your consideration, Marquis."

"A trifle."

The man smiled and stood, delegating the purchase to his attendants before departing.

As he took his leave of Uncle Wen and stepped out the gate, a carriage pulled up.

Inside, as luck would have it, was Du Runqing, the Du family’s second daughter.

Du Runqing made an impromptu return to fetch her mother’s medicine. As the carriage came to a halt, her gaze flicked to the window, and she saw the man standing at the gate. Her pulse stuttered.

The man was lofty and commanding, his brocade robe cinched at his waist. He also noticed her carriage, glancing sideways briefly before turning away, mounting his horse, and giving an order before departing.

"Go back and ask Madam if she'd like to go out for something delicious this evening."

The attendant assented and hurried off, and soon the man disappeared from the Du estate's gates.

Inside the carriage, Du Runqing's eyes fell.

Her maid Rui Xue inquired outside and returned to inform her that the marquis was here to buy an estate.

Purchase an estate? Du Runqing understood quicker than her father.

For her sister, then? The bookstore—also for her sister, everything was for her sister. Even when he made way for her carriage—was that also for her sister?

Then, was this imperial marriage decree also for her sister's sake?

...

At the Lu residence in Jiqing Lane, Du Lingjing had no mind for dining out. The scheduled meeting time with the Fu Party members at the Fire God Temple in the northern part of the city was approaching.

Since she wasn't going out, the man returned home.

He found her poring over a capital map, her brow furrowed as she traced the temple's location, like a general plotting campaign.

He approached. "I've already instructed Chong Ping to post men ten li around the temple."

Not wanting her to sit for too long, he drew her up.

"Still aching?" he asked, voice low.

His voice, habitually rough, was even lower now, his warmth grazing her ear.

Du Lingjing was flustered at his words but chose to ignore them. "I'm just thinking—what if something goes wrong?" She tried to redirect him.

Her evasion made him raise a brow.

"Go wrong?" he said. "Even if my lady doubts me, she ought to trust Chong Ping at least."

The way he said it—did her past distrust still rankle?

Did it bother him so much whether he trusted her or not?

But if it bothered him this much… was it because he had something to hide?

Du Lingjing kept the thought to herself, not daring to voice it lest he fixate on it and bring it up repeatedly.

Against her will, her eyes flicked to his, only for him to immediately catch her gaze.

"Well?"

He demanded an answer.

Du Lingjing sighed, she bit her lip.

"Since the Marquis has made all the arrangements, that must be settled."

She spoke, only to hear him draw out a long "Oh," sounding partly satisfied but still faintly displeased.

His gaze locked onto hers, unrelenting, much like how his arms would encircle her waist, then slide up to her shoulders or the bend of her legs. Du Lingjing’s heart skipped a beat for no reason.

She couldn’t take it and swiftly steered the conversation elsewhere, speaking of other matters.

But back to the main issue—the Shao brothers were ruthlessly pursuing the Remonstrating Ministers, and only Lu Shenru could rescue them from their grasp.

If not him, then who? With their shared goal of undermining the Shao faction and Prince Yong’s allies, he’d surely agree.

Two days flew by.

On the morning of the appointed day, as soon as the city gates opened, Du Lingjing hurried toward the Fire God Temple in the northern part of the city.

The temple was still busy with worshippers. Morning frost still clung to the ground as worshippers trickled in with offering baskets.

They’d been lying low nearby, but from dawn until well past mid-morning, no suspicious figures appeared.

Chong Ping said they’d seen someone acting suspiciously about seven li away, but the person had vanished almost immediately upon appearing. Still, given the timing, if it was indeed that person, they should arrive today without fail.

Du Lingjing steeled herself and kept waiting.

Lu Shenru showed up in the northern district after court.

Finding her waiting in silence, he settled in beside her.

The sun inched downward. The crowd of worshippers peaked around noon, then gradually dispersed as the sun dipped westward.

Du Lingjing grew uneasy.

Just then, Chong Ping hurried over.

"My Lord, My Lady, someone left a note in the fortune stick tube."

The note was small, bearing only four words:

*Back Mountain Bamboo Grove.*

Du Lingjing studied it. "This handwriting..."

"What is it?" Lu Shenru asked. "Should I send someone in your stead?"

"No need," Du Lingjing said, already standing. "I know who it is—I’ll go."

Gripping the note, she marched quickly toward the back mountain.

The back mountain—and the bamboo grove.

The man’s gaze darkened with thought before he strode after her.

The grove was close—Du Lingjing reached its edge in under half an hour.

By evening, birds flocked home as the dying sun, draped in twilight, hovered over the western ridge.

Golden light dappled the bamboo. As Du Lingjing stepped inside, fallen leaves crunched underfoot, blending with the wind’s whisper through the bamboo.

A few steps in, the bamboo swallowed her whole.

She spaced out for a moment.

It felt like ages since she had last stepped into any bamboo grove.

Lu Shenru stood at the edge of the grove, his brows furrowed slightly.

Just then, footsteps echoed from deep within the bamboo forest.

Du Lingjing automatically looked toward the sound and saw a figure slowly emerging through the clusters of golden evening light.

Dressed in a bamboo-green robe, he looked like part of the bamboo itself.

Bamboo leaves drifted and settled lightly upon his shoulders.

Du Lingjing’s eyes wavered briefly before focusing.

But then, coming to her senses, she realized she wasn’t confused enough to mistake him.

"Liulang? Is that you? I'm here—come closer."

Her voice echoed through the bamboo, and only then did the young man fully emerge from the depths of the bamboo.

His thin face looked even more like that person from before, but his posture was hunched, one hand pressed against his chest.

Du Lingjing let out a surprised gasp as Jiang Fengchuan spoke.

"Sister-in-law, I’m afraid I’ve gotten pretty badly hurt..."

As soon as he finished speaking, he swayed unsteadily—then suddenly collapsed forward.