Chapter 36

Chapter 36

“Come here.”

The forest was hushed, the fallen leaves silent.

Du Lingjing paused, startled.

But before she could react, a sudden surge of killing intent filled the quiet woods.

A sharp whistle pierced the air from Shao Wuxing. The Shao family men, who had been encircling the Fu Party, instantly shifted their gaze. Though their blades were still clean, the air itself seemed thick with the scent of blood. Their movements became swift and precise.

At that very moment, Du Lingjing felt herself yanked backward with lightning speed. Chong’an, along with the Marquis’s guards, surged through the crowd, pulling her out of the encirclement in a flash.

By the time Du Lingjing regained her senses, she was already protected by the Marquis’s guards. Inside the circle, some of the Shao family’s men still held their blades pointed at the Fu Party, while the majority now turned their long swords outward, facing the Yongding Marquisate’s guards.

Their eyes held a chilling, ruthless glint; a mere glance sent shivers down one’s spine.

Shao Boju glanced at her, seeing she had been secured, and quietly murmured, “A pity.”

She understood now why the Marquis had told her to “come here.” She looked towards him, and his gaze briefly settled on her as well.

But in the midst of this sudden upheaval, he only addressed Shao Boju.

“Deathsworn… I never thought a scholar like Shao Tanhua would secretly raise deathsworn, just like the princes and marquises of noble houses.”

Deathsworn were not mere guards or common soldiers; they were men who had long abandoned their lives, existing only to live and die for the Shao brothers.

Du Lingjing watched. Though Chong’an had swiftly pulled her out, the Fu Party remained trapped in the center of the deathsworn’s encirclement. On the surface, the Shao family seemed caught between two fronts, but under the blades of these warriors, the Fu Party could offer little resistance.

The Lu family’s guards could certainly fight the Shao deathsworn, but the potential casualties would be devastating.

At this moment, Du Lingjing saw Hu Tinglan turn to Shao Boju, then sighed deeply and slowly shook his head.

Shao Boju paused briefly but responded only to the sudden appearance of Lord Marquis Lu.

“Lord Marquis Lu, you’ve taken such trouble to come here—was it to secure these Fu Party members and trade them with my uncle?”

He chuckled. “If I didn’t have these deathsworn, I wouldn’t even have the chance to fight you, Lu Shenru. I’d have to watch you claim the spoils, eliminate me, take these people, and ensure the Earl of Rongchang’s safety.”

He continued, “To secure a position among men like you in court, what choice do I have but to employ methods beyond the ordinary?”

The forest was thick with the tension of drawn blades, like a taut bowstring—yet no one spoke.

Du Lingjing watched as only the Marquis let out a low laugh.

“But Shao Tanhua, your frantic scramble for standing may leave you unable to stand at all in the end.”

His tone darkened Shao Boju’s expression, who slowly shook his head.

“How can I compare to you, Lord Marquis Lu? You were born the legitimate heir of the Yongding Marquisate—the entire marquisate is your birthright, and the Yongding Army will one day be in your hands. But what do I have?

“Though we are both of the Shao family, the maternal relatives of Prince Yong, my uncle Shao Zun views our branch as a thorn in his flesh. When I earned the title of Tanhua, gained Prince Yong’s favor, and caught Grand Secretary Dou’s notice, his loathing became barely concealed. If I don’t find ways to secure my own standing and gather my own forces, how long will he tolerate me?”

The Emperor favors only new ministers.

He admitted his scholarship was no match for Hu Tinglan’s, but because his aunt was Prince Yong’s mother—a consort of the Emperor—he was granted the title of Tanhua.

But in a few months, the next imperial examination would bring new top graduates—perhaps young men as favored by the Emperor as he once was. If his favor waned even slightly, his uncle Shao Zun would stop at nothing to ruin him.

Yet the Shao family’s connections were all in Shao Zun’s hands. He had few options—his sole recourse was to rely on Prince Yong and Grand Secretary Dou to secure some power for himself.

An ordinary newly appointed Tanhua, with shallow seniority, would be confined to the Hanlin Academy, toiling over texts day and night. But with these connections, he had flourished at court.

But it wasn’t enough. If outsiders realized he was far inferior to Shao Zun and incapable of handling affairs, who would stand by his side as loyal allies?

He had no choice. Desperate to establish himself, he had to rely on Prince Yong’s influence while secretly expanding his own network—hence the impersonation scheme, using leverage to gather allies.

He had been cautious, pulling back at the first sign of danger—yet he was still discovered.

They refused to negotiate, only seeking his death.

His gaze swept over the Fu Party members before settling on Hu Tinglan.

“How absurd. Tinglan, you wouldn’t trust me, yet you’d believe Lu Shenru? Now look—he intends to hand you over to Shao Zun. How is that any different from sentencing you to death?”

As he spoke, seeing Hu Tinglan remain silent, he suddenly remembered another person.

He looked past the crowd and called to Du Lingjing.

“Jing, I warned you long ago not to trust this new husband of yours so easily. Why didn’t you listen? Did you think this mighty Marquis Lu was the same as your childhood sweetheart, Jieyuan Jiang? You’ve underestimated him far too much.”

Shao Boju laughed, his laughter turning bitter.

Mountain sunlight filtered weakly through thick clouds, leaving only a bitter winter wind howling ceaselessly.

Du Lingjing felt someone’s gaze fixed on her face. From the corner of her eye, she saw it was the Marquis.

Like Hu Tinglan, she kept silent. The man noticed her clenched fists, but she said nothing and did not look at him again.

His eyes remained fixed on her for a moment before he spoke quietly.

“Matters between husband and wife need not concern Shao Tanhua. You should worry about your own predicament.”

He acknowledged that the Shao family had brought deathsworn—men willing to die might indeed achieve something.

“But Shao Tanhua, to escape this situation unscathed, you must do two things: eliminate these witnesses and ensure your own escape.”

He gave a light scoff. “Unfortunately, even the Marquis’s least skilled guards can stand against your deathsworn. So you can only accomplish one. Which will it be?”

With limited manpower, if he diverted efforts to kill the Fu Party, the Marquis’s guards would break through and slaughter them all for the crime of murder—with no repercussions from the court. If he didn’t kill the Fu Party and instead fought his way out with the deathsworn, he might escape temporarily, but his ambitions would still come to nothing.

Shao Boju knew his chances against Lu Shenru were poor—especially since the Marquis had already secured his wife’s safety, freeing his guards to fight without hesitation.

But he said, “Lord Marquis Lu, rest assured—if I cannot escape today, you won’t be using these Fu Party members to secure the Earl of Rongchang’s safety either.”

He was issuing threats, trying to have it both ways—but if they destroyed each other, Lu Shenru would gain nothing.

As he finished, he saw Lu Shenru nod slightly.

A mountain breeze lifted the hem of the Marquis’s dark brocade robe as he spoke.

“I’d rather avoid bloodshed today. How about a trade, Tanhua?”

He continued, “Your uncle Shao Zun wants to exchange these Fu Party members for someone. Hand them over to me. But that Miss Huang—she’s the crucial witness, isn’t she? Your uncle may not know of her. You can keep her. Kill her or keep her—the choice is yours.”

At these words, a collective gasp rose from the Fu Party, and Miss Huang’s face paled.

She knew too many of the Shao brothers' secrets—Shao Wuxing especially despised her. Even if she wasn’t killed outright, she would be tortured until death. And if the Fu Party fell into Shao Zun’s hands, they too would perish.

Someone muttered, “Clever move.”

The bleak sunlight failed to pierce the man's inky brocade robe, instead being swallowed entirely by its unfathomable darkness.

Du Lingjing noticed the faint smile still lingering at the corners of his lips, as if he hadn’t just decided everyone's fate.

This time, he didn’t even look her way, but Shao Boju paused abruptly and said,

“You take the Fu Party members to exchange with Shao Zun to ensure the safety of the Earl of Rongchang’s household, while I take the Huang girl to prevent Shao Zun from gaining complete control... Smart play, but she alone isn’t enough.”

He pointed at the Hu siblings. “I want them too.”

The Hu siblings had been involved the longest and knew the most. “Only by controlling them can I be more secure.”

Yet the man gave an amused headshake.

“Hu Tinglan was your uncle’s personal pick. I can’t hand him over to you.”

“Tanhua Shao,” he called out, “Big players don’t fuss over minor details. Surely you aren’t clinging to old sentiments, wanting to keep them by your side for old times’ sake?”

Before the words faded, Shao Wuxing beside him scowled, his hooked nose making him look more sinister than a vulture. He glared hatefully at the Hu siblings, especially Hu Tinglan.

At that moment, Shao Boju abruptly conceded to Lu Shenru’s terms.

“Fine, they’re yours. But you must keep your word and let us leave.”

Lu Shenru, of course, nodded.

He spoke to Chong Ping, while Shao Boju muttered something to Shao Wuxing beside him.

The transaction soon began.

The Fu Party members were yanked to their feet and shoved into the hands of the Marquis’s guards by Shao’s deathsworn.

Within moments, most of them had been dragged out.

Du Lingjing saw Mr. Liao stagger, his already injured leg giving way as he crashed to the ground, grimacing in pain.

She instinctively moved to help, but the Marquis’s guards cut her off.

She turned to look at the Marquis, whose expression was unusually icy as he coldly ordered,

“Tie them up and take them aside.” He paused slightly, his gaze finally flickering over her before pinning her with a weighted look. “No one is to approach them—especially not my wife.”

With that, he turned away without another word.

Forbidden to act, Du Lingjing froze under guard, lips pressed together in silence. Her eyes lingered on the dwindling group of Fu Party members before stealing a glance at the man standing alone on the hillside, hands clasped behind his back. A thoughtful glint appeared in her gaze.

She said nothing more, watching as Shao Boju soon released almost everyone—leaving only the Huang girl and the Hu siblings.

But just then, the woods went deathly still.

Shao Wuxing and his attendants suddenly held blades to the necks of Hu Tinglan, his sister, and the Huang girl.

The fate of the Huang girl, Lu Shenru had said earlier, was expendable to him.

But Shao Zun had specifically demanded the Hu siblings, knowing they held the most information—making them both crucial leverage against Shao Boju and the best bargaining pieces.

With his blade pressed to Hu Tinglan’s throat, Shao Wuxing was the first to growl, “Let us go, or say goodbye to your bargaining chip!”

And Shao Boju also spoke up, his voice now relaxed compared to its earlier tension, carrying a hint of assuredness.

“What remains in my hands now are the three most crucial individuals. If I were to kill them at this moment, even Marquis Lu wouldn’t have time to intervene. My deathsworn are no pushovers. But right now, all I want is to leave. If Marquis Lu simply lets us go, avoiding a bloodbath, it would be no loss for your Yongding Marquisate either.”

He had initially agreed to the exchange, demanding Lu Shenru keep his word, yet now he was the one breaking it.

Du Lingjing frowned, and Lu Shenru let out a derisive snort.

But instead of venting anger at the Shaos’ betrayal, he merely asked softly,

“Are the Hu siblings truly so important to you? Had you not held onto old ties, I imagine your fifth brother and these deathsworn would have taken care of them long ago, no?”

This wouldn’t have snowballed into this mess.

His words were directed at Shao Boju, but Du Lingjing noticed Shao Wuxing’s expression twitch.

The hand gripping the blade against Hu Tinglan’s throat tightened slightly, drawing a thin trickle of blood.

Shao Wuxing recalled how, from the very beginning, every attempt to capture them had been thwarted by his elder brother’s reluctance—forbidding him from killing them, even from harming them.

Once, he could no longer restrain himself and fired an arrow at Hu Tinglan, thinking that even if his brother found out, the dead could not be revived. Unfortunately, Hu Tinglan survived, and matters had spiraled to this point.

At this thought, he made up his mind on the spot. He suddenly yanked Hu Tinglan backward a step.

Shao Boju immediately turned his way. “Fifth Brother, what are you doing?!”

The atmosphere in the woods shifted.

Yet Shao Wuxing’s grip on the blade did not loosen in the slightest.

His hooked nose cast a heavy shadow across his face.

“Elder Brother, hesitation invites disaster. Keeping these siblings is nothing but baggage. Killing them would be swift and clean!”

Not only would it eliminate those who knew the most, but it would also rid Shao Boju of his weakness.

Shao Wuxing was already eager to strike—starting with Hu Tinglan.

Hu Tinglan closed his eyes, having no intention of pleading for Shao Boju to spare him again.

But Shao Boju’s face flashed with panic. “We can deal with this later—let’s just get out first—”

“You’re wrong, Elder Brother. Only by eliminating these two can we leave safely!” Shao Wuxing could no longer endure his brother’s wavering. “Do you want to leave leverage in Shao Zun’s hands, letting him control us? Have you forgotten how he made us suffer? All I wanted was to be recognized by the family, yet he made my father and me kneel in the snow for a full day and night, enduring the scorn of the entire clan. And you—has the pain from that kick to your chest faded already?”

Shao Wuxing was the illegitimate son of their fourth uncle and a concubine. Later, when their uncle lost two sons in succession, he sought to legitimize Shao Wuxing.

But the process dragged on for five years without resolution, forcing Shao Wuxing to grow up an outcast, called a bastard. By his teens, their fourth uncle could wait no longer and took his fifth son to beg their eldest uncle, Shao Zun. Though Shao Zun agreed, he made father and son kneel in the ancestral hall for a full day and night.

That day and night, the fourth uncle’s family faced nothing but scorn.

And not long after, their fourth uncle fell gravely ill, hanging on for half a year before passing.

He knew his fifth brother hated their eldest uncle, Shao Zun. He used him precisely because he, too, hated him just as much.

It was a sin committed by their grandfather’s generation—their concubine grandmother, in her rivalry for favor, had hounded their grandfather’s lawful wife, Shao Zun’s mother, to death.

But his father and uncle had spent their lives bowing their heads. He’d thought if he kept his nose clean, their lofty eldest uncle might finally relent and grant them a path forward.

When he studied in the clan school, the other children, always sizing people up, wouldn’t even let him sit inside the classroom, forcing him to listen from outside—but he endured it. He was often beaten by his supposed kin, his body always covered in bruises, unable to even scrape together money for medicine—but he took it all.

He believed if he stayed well-behaved and kept his head down, his uncle might view him slightly more favorably.

After all, his uncle was a scholar. In his youth, he had glimpsed his uncle composing poetry with others from afar, his every movement radiating scholarly refinement. He'd been momentarily dazzled, his heart filled with admiration.

Once, he deliberately waited by the roadside after school, working up the nerve to greet his uncle.

He didn’t expect his uncle to speak kindly to him—even a single glance without words would have satisfied him.

The little boy, innocent as a mountain spring, truly gathered his courage and waited by the roadside. He waited for nearly an hour. The blazing sun beat down, soaking him with sweat, but he couldn’t bear to leave, so he hid in the bushes.

By the time half an hour had passed, the sky had darkened, and his legs had gone stiff from standing. Then, he heard footsteps approaching.

It was his uncle.

He held his breath, waiting for his uncle to draw near.

When the man reached him, he burst from the bushes, meaning to step forward with a respectful bow, calling out, “Uncle.”

But before he could even finish his bow, before the word “Uncle” could leave his lips—

Shao Zun suddenly raised his foot and kicked the boy square in the chest.

The impact sent him flying backward before he crashed heavily onto the ground.

Pain shot through his limbs, overwhelming and all-encompassing.

Shao Boju couldn’t make a sound. That kick to the heart was something his young body simply couldn’t withstand. Blood surged in his chest, rising to his mouth.

He curled up, convulsing uncontrollably. In the dim light, his uncle finally recognized him.

But his uncle only said, “I thought it was a stray dog.”

With those words, he didn’t spare him another glance, leaving with his attendant in tow.

That night, he coughed up blood for the first time. Unable to make a sound, unnoticed by anyone, it wasn’t until dawn that his father frantically found him. Yet, he dared not tell the clan, much less confront Shao Zun. He could only carry him to the physician’s clinic in silence...

The memory of that kick, dredged up by Shao Wuxing, seemed to burn anew in his chest.

His breathing grew ragged, but Shao Wuxing was losing patience. “Why are we brothers in such a hurry to rise? You shouldn’t forget! If we kill the Hu siblings now, no one can touch us!”

Shao Boju’s gaze lingered on Hu Tinglan as the wind rustled the forest leaves.

He recalled his years at the academy, how Shao Zun had tightened his grip on the Shao clan’s power, how other clan members constantly bullied the third and fourth branches. Even gathering the travel money to the academy had been a struggle. Yet, when he arrived to study the words and deeds of sages, he found nothing but petty men around him.

They fawned over the powerful and trampled the weak. He had grown used to it—until someone stepped forward for him.

A bookish scholar, yet one who dared to stand before him and chide those bullies. Even when they came after him too, he didn’t retreat.

Once, the two of them were lured to the back of the mountain and beaten severely.

That night, back in their quarters, he saw Hu Tinglan bandaging his arms with white cloth, muttering to himself.

He assumed Hu Tinglan regretted it—taking his side for no reason, getting beaten for nothing.

He couldn’t help but say, “From now on, don’t stick with me. Say you're sorry, maybe they'll go easy on you.”

But Hu Tinglan replied, “A gentleman keeps company with the virtuous and distances himself from the wicked. I, Hu Tinglan, will not associate with scoundrels.”

Shao Boju was stunned. After a pause, he asked, “So... in your eyes, I’m virtuous?”

In all his years of struggling to study on the sidelines, no one had ever spoken well of him.

He studied Hu Tinglan’s face and saw him nod without hesitation, his expression solemn. Though barely in his teens, he carried himself like an old scholar.

“I've watched you,” Hu Tinglan said, “and you're truly a man of virtue. I'd be proud to study and rise with you, never again with those others. But if one day you change—if power corrupts you—I'll cast you aside without hesitation.”

At the time, Shao Boju just laughed. “Don’t worry. Even if I rise to power someday, I won’t become someone you'd turn away from!”

He was the only one who had ever believed him to be virtuous. How could he let him down?

…

Years passed, seasons changed, and the past faded into memory.

Shao Boju’s eyes grew moist as he looked at Hu Tinglan, whose eyes opened at that same moment.

“I should've died years ago. Before you brothers turned to evil, shouldn’t I have noticed the signs?”

He should have.

He should have sensed it when Shao Boju, after earning the Tanhua title, shirked his Hanlin Academy duties to instead amass power and play politics.

But Shao Boju always claimed his uncle Shao Zun couldn’t stand to see him succeed—that he had to establish his own faction and secure a foothold in court.

To that end, not long after his first wife’s death, he sought to marry Du Lingjing. He knew the court’s factions were already divided, but by marrying Jing, he could inherit the Fu Party faction once loyal to Grand Secretary Du.

Though sidelined, the Fu Party’s scholars surpassed many of the court’s incompetent fools in both knowledge and ability.

Hu Tinglan had been adamant about this, and his sister Tingjun had outright forbidden it.

Yet Shao Boju became bolder by the day.

Among those they had harmed now were former members of the Fu Party.

Hu Tinglan laughed bitterly, declaring himself worthy of death.

“I should have seen it sooner—that you had become a villain, no longer the virtuous friend of the past.”

“Tinglan—”

But before he could finish, Shao Wuxing’s patience snapped entirely.

“If he wants to die, let him have his wish!”

With that, his bloodstained blade flashed toward Hu Tinglan’s throat.

Outside the crowd, Du Lingjing gasped. Even Hu Tingjun, trapped inside, couldn’t reach her brother in time. She screamed.

Then—

Shao Boju suddenly seized Shao Wuxing’s blade.

“No!”

In an instant, the force of the slash split Shao Boju’s palm clean through.

“Shao Boju—”

“Brother?!”

Shao Boju's wound bled profusely, leaving Shao Wuxing in a panic, and the Shao family's deathsworn momentarily showed signs of uncertainty.

In an instant, Lu Shenru shot a look at Chong Ping.

Chong Ping swiftly drew his blade, and in an instant, all of Lu's guards charged with blades drawn. By the time the Shao family's deathsworn reacted, steel was at their throats.

The tables turned instantly.

Seeing this, Shao Wuxing's face beneath his hooked nose twisted in fury.

He snarled, “You're all dead!”

Raising his sword, he lunged at Hu Tinglan.

The forest went still.

Yet, in that stillness, an arrow sliced through the air, hurtling toward the frenzied Shao Wuxing.

Lu Shenru grabbed a bow from a guard, notched an arrow, and took aim at Shao Wuxing in a single motion.

The arrow was loosed with a piercing whistle. Before anyone could react, it streaked past Hu Tinglan's shoulder and ear, burying itself deep in Shao Wuxing's throat.

The impact hurled Shao Wuxing backward. The arrow pierced through his windpipe, nailing him to a tree behind him with a sickening thud.

Blood spewed from Shao Wuxing's lips, his eyes wide open—dead before he hit the ground.

“Xiao Wu!”

Shao Boju made a desperate lunge, but Chong Ping had already broken through the deathsworn's encirclement, shoving him face-first into the dirt.

Within seconds, the Shao brothers were finished—one dead, the other captured alive. Even if the deathsworn fought to the death now, they no longer knew for whom.

Chong Ping held Shao Boju hostage, forcing all the Shao family's deathsworn to surrender.

Lu Shenru added, “I said I didn’t want bloodshed today. Though it still happened, you don’t have to die. Living beats dying.”

Did these killers really want to die?

The clouds above had cleared unnoticed. Blades hit the dirt in the forest as Chong Ping barked orders to secure the scene and saw to Hu Tinglan's injuries.

Luckily, it wasn’t fatal.

For a moment, silence fell, broken only by Shao Boju's mad laughter, ringing hollow through the mountains.

Hu Tinglan looked at him, grief darkening his gaze, but he remained silent.

Yet Shao Boju shrieked, “No one will live! If you fall into Lu Shenru's hands, or are traded to Shao Zun, you're all dead men! None!”

That gave them all pause.

Indeed, if Lu Shenru exchanged them, Shao Zun would not let them live either.

Every eye locked on Marquis Lu. Du Lingjing's gaze, which had been lingering on the hem of his robe, now lifted to meet his eyes.

She saw his face harden, but he spoke.

“Says who?”

His voice cut through the whispers in the forest. His gaze swept over the crowd before landing on a woman with a mud-stained dress.

He looked at her silently.

“I promised someone I would save these people. I meant it.”

“Even if she doesn’t believe it.”

Du Lingjing's thoughts scattered, his final words rattling endlessly in her skull.

Where their eyes met, his gaze was dark and unreadable.

Then, boots pounded up the hillside as a large crowd arrived.

These were none other than the crowd from outside—finally here—officials from two prefectures, imperial guards, academy students, friends and family, and others who had come searching for various reasons.

Hundreds had arrived.

No matter how many men Lu had, he could not snatch away the Fu Party members under everyone's watch.

Instead, the magistrates of Zhending and Baoding bowed before him.

Only then did the crowd realize that before Lu Shenru had arrived with his men, he had already called for backup.

He wasn’t planning to stash or trade them—as he said, he meant it.

The fate of the Shao brothers—one in chains, one dead—was witnessed by the newcomers.

But now, the greater concern was the Fu Party members, who had been in hiding for months with evidence and witnesses, finally found!

Some rushed to help, others wept and embraced, while still others demanded explanations.

The magistrates and imperial guards exchanged a few words with Lu Shenru, but catching his mood, they withdrew.

The man lowered his gaze to his wife, her skirt stained with dirt.

She stood rooted, staring at him, yet made no move to approach.

Twice he’d called for her, and twice she had not come. Now, still standing apart, he strode toward her.

But as he passed, he brushed by her without stopping, sparing her only a silent glance before walking past.

He moved instead to the Fu Party elders, personally untying Lord Hong's bonds.

“Are you unharmed?” he asked.

Lord Hong replied that he was fine but posed a question: “What of the Earl of Rongchang's household? If you release us, how will the Earl's family fare?”

This was crucial.

Everyone waited for his answer, including Du Lingjing, who watched him from behind.

But the man said there was no mystery to it.

“A life for a life. If the Earl's household wishes to survive intact, the simplest solution is for the Countess to personally deliver those two wretches to justice.”

Before coming, he had made his stance clear.

The Countess had fainted that night, but he had no intention of shielding the guilty. Trading the lives of the Fu Party for those two fiends would be a crime against heaven itself.

As for the Earl of Rongchang, who was leading troops outside, he personally penned a letter and had it delivered, also dispatching others to take his place.

After he finished speaking, Lord Hong couldn't help stealing a few more glances at him.

“Your Lordship shows great nobility.”

Lu Shenru repeatedly declined the praise.

He admitted that he'd had his wild youth too. “At that time, I wronged Mr. Liao. I hope you can forgive me.”

Due to the struggle for succession, he had once ordered Mr. Liao to be arrested and beaten. Now, he came forward with a deep, formal bow.

Mr. Liao quickly supported him.

“Back then, these old bones survived, but if not for Your Lordship this time, I doubt I'd be standing here now.”

Though Mr. Liao held no hard feelings, Lu Shenru insisted on finishing the bow.

Hu Tinglan's wounds were bandaged for now. Though he looked drained, he still stepped forward to thank Lu Shenru.

The man shook his head.

“I wouldn't claim it was all for duty's sake—just following my instincts.”

Not entirely for public duty—implying there were private motives as well.

Hu Tinglan and Hu Tingjun exchanged glances with the woman standing there in a daze.

He hadn't said a word to her from start to finish.

After hiding for months, the rescuers helped steady them as they made their way down the mountain.

Hu Tinglan's injuries were grave and he could not stay any longer.

On the other hand, Jiang Fengchuan was faring better.

As the others dispersed down the mountain, only Marquis Lu and his new wife remained standing in the woods.

Recalling the events of the day, Jiang Fengchuan looked at Du Lingjing, noting her distant expression as she occasionally glanced at the man beside her.

He frowned, deep in thought, and and couldn't help but step forward—when someone grabbed his arm.

“Uncle Hui?”

“Don't, Sixth Master. After all, it was the Marquis who saved everyone this time.”

“That’s irrelevant.”

“Sixth Master, the young miss—no, the Marchioness now—as long as she lives well, Third Master would have no regrets. He'd be smiling down from heaven. Why must you insist?”

“But Uncle Hui…”

Uncle Hui shook his head. “Sixth Master, no more. Let’s go.”

Taking firm hold of him, Uncle Hui led him down the mountain from another path.

Du Lingjing didn’t notice them, only to see her husband turn away.

He'd ignored her completely—even now, with everyone gone, he seemed unwilling to say a word.

“Marquis…” Du Lingjing ventured timidly.

The man merely glanced at her without responding, instead moving off to direct the men to carry Shao Wuxing’s body down the mountain.

“Marquis.” She called again.

He gave no sign of hearing, still silent.

At a loss, her gaze wandered until she saw Tingjun urgently gesturing from the hillside, “Go after him!”

Go to him.

He'd said it twice already.

And he had never intended to deceive—he'd genuinely wanted to help her rescue them. She just hadn’t dared to believe it...

Just as the man walked to one side, Du Lingjing drew a sharp breath and rushed after him.

She called out to him once more. This time, he stopped and looked back.

When his eyes locked with hers, she froze.

“Marquis, thank you.”

She meant it.

Yet as soon as she spoke, the man suddenly smiled—a thin, barely-there smile, his eyes stormy with unspoken emotion.

“Thank you?”

No sooner had she spoken, he stepped past her and stalked straight down the mountain without another word.

Du Lingjing stood stunned, watching his retreating form grow smaller in the distance, the mountain wind whipping around him like a living thing, his robes fluttering wildly.

She stood paralyzed.

Chong Ping was the one who finally came over with a sigh.

“My lady, night is falling. We should descend now.”