Chapter 38

Chapter 38

Lu Shenru shed his outer brocade robe, hanging it casually on the rack. From the corner of his eye, he saw his wife by the bed, her dark hair draped over her left shoulder. She tilted her head slightly to the left, watching him, waiting to see if he had finished his tasks.

The small lamp by the window illuminated her glossy black hair and fair skin. Clad only in simple sleep robes, she sat by the bed with an unspoken gentleness.

Yet Lu Shenru remained silent, his lips pressed together. He washed up leisurely, took a few sips of tea at the table, then remembered something and issued a quiet command to the servants outside.

She waited patiently by the bed.

Only then did he finally walk toward the inner chamber.

He wouldn’t speak to her. Du Lingjing’s heart pounded, but she remained seated, waiting for him to approach.

At last, she saw that he had finished his tasks and tidied up, and now he was walking over.

Thinking back—he had allowed her to move her belongings in and stay with him. He hadn’t slept elsewhere that night, nor had he complained about her presence or sent her away. Could it be that, deep down, he was slowly letting go of his anger?

Du Lingjing remained seated by the bed, watching as he took step after step toward her. Her pulse quickened.

Lu Shenru noticed she was still sitting there, not appearing to have anything pressing to say, yet her demeanor was different from usual.

He had to break the silence.

“Would my lady prefer the outer side?”

He had spoken to her.

Du Lingjing perked up despite herself, but his tone was still icy and controlled, clearly indicating he was still upset.

She nodded, saying she’d take the outer side tonight.

“If the Marquis feels thirsty at night, just let me know.” Worried she might sleep too deeply to notice, she added, “Just wake me.”

As her words fell, she felt his gaze linger on her.

Lu Shenru saw that she wasn’t joking or merely being polite—she truly intended to sleep on the outer side.

She sat beside him with her hands folded, dressed only in plain undergarments, a whisper of book fragrance drifting from the collar and sleeves of her robe.

Against his will, he remembered that year in Mianlou. Initially, due to his injuries, he had been stuck in a corner, unable to move freely, and thus not always able to see her.

Occasionally, she would pass within his line of sight beyond the partition. In the summer, she had looked like a pale-winged butterfly, clad in light-colored robes, drifting quietly among the books.

He had been reluctant to make any noise, afraid of startling away the unexpected butterfly.

But now, she was volunteering to tend to him?

Lu Shenru’s gaze lingered on his wife for far too long.

Yet he said nothing. The lamp flickered twice, and Du Lingjing couldn’t tell whether he agreed or not—just as she couldn’t tell if his anger remained.

After a pause, she decided to ask outright.

“Is the Marquis still angry?”

Silence followed her words. The lamplight flickered gently, like a feather’s touch.

She saw his expression soften slightly, but when he spoke, his voice remained low and steady.

“What does my lady think?”

Du Lingjing had come to apologize, so she kept her voice meek.

“I truly should not have doubted the Marquis.” Her voice was quiet. “I’m truly ashamed.”

The lamplight’s shifting shadows draped them like a veil, resting softly on her bowed forehead as they sat in silence by the bed.

Lu Shenru’s pulse stuttered.

She was apologizing to him.

Yet there was still a hint of formality in her apology.

The man remained silent for a moment, but then she met his gaze again.

“Anger hurts the health. Won’t the Marquis forgive me?”

Her gaze swept over the bedside. “From now on, I’ll take the outer side and attend to the Marquis at night.”

She was offering to switch places—truly meaning to serve him?

Since when did he need her service?

This, like her earlier words of “shame,” carried an undercurrent of subtle politeness.

He didn’t want even a hint of politeness from her. His frown came unbidden.

The moment his brows knitted, he saw her face tense.

This time, Du Lingjing had tried every trick Tingjun had suggested. She was apologizing in earnest.

But he still frowned—even shook his head slightly.

Du Lingjing was now certain her friend’s advice had failed.

He had helped her so greatly, yet she had doubted him. How could a few light words truly ease his anger?

If anything, her persistent bothering must have annoyed him further.

Perhaps he even found her tiresome.

She pressed her lips together lightly and looked away toward the outer chamber.

Suddenly, the man asked, “What are you thinking?”

After a beat, she answered honestly.

“Nothing much. I was just thinking… if the Marquis is uncomfortable, I could sleep in the outer chamber instead.”

After speaking, she gave him a strained smile and stood, made to leave.

But before she could take a single step, fingers closed tightly around her wrist.

She whirled back, startled, to find him staring at her, his brows furrowed deeper.

“You don’t start an apology and leave.”

Du Lingjing didn’t understand what he meant in that moment.

But the next instant, he seized her wrist and pulled her toward him. Before she could react, she was already pulled tightly against him.

She looked up at him in bewildered surprise as the man spoke in a low voice.

"You ought to be more sincere."

In one swift motion, he carried her to the bed, and in the next breath, he leaned in and kissed her.

The candle gave a soft pop as his teeth grazed her lips.

The force carried the pent-up irritation of the past days, and when he bit down, Du Lingjing let out a quiet gasp.

Realizing he had hurt her, the man couldn’t bring himself to bite her again. Instead, he stroked her earlobe and kissed her deeply.

His kiss was long, intense, and fiercely possessive. Before long, Du Lingjing was breathless, and the man’s own breathing quickened.

Her lips already felt swollen and tender, so he eased up just enough, allowing her a moment to catch her breath.

Suddenly, between shallow breaths, she whispered,

"Don’t be angry anymore, alright?"

Lu Shenru went still.

If earlier she had been following someone’s coaching, by evening, the moment he showed the smallest hint of distance, she had been ready to retreat and leave. He knew then that the "expert guidance" had ended. He had stopped her, refusing to let her go, telling her to try harder—though he had doubted she could deliver.

Yet now, she had said it again—

"Don’t be angry anymore, alright?" These were her own words.

So, she truly cared whether he was upset or not, didn’t she?

He still didn’t respond, but his fingertips brushed over her slightly swollen lips before his next kiss landed—gentle and tender, entirely unlike before.

From her lips, his kisses trailed to the tip of her nose, then up to the corners of her eyes, where her delicate lashes fluttered softly against his mouth.

His chest ached with tenderness. As his kisses descended further, they wandered down her neck, over her collarbone, to her shoulders, while his hand anchored firmly at her hip.

No incense had been lit in the room, yet his intensity remained unchanged—if anything, heightened by his earlier anger.

But Du Lingjing, accustomed to fragrant scents, found herself slick with perspiration, her back damp with discomfort.

The temporary lodging was not as spacious as the marquis’s estate, but it was cozy and refined, quickly growing warm and humid, a stark contrast to the winter chill beyond the walls.

The candlelight danced unevenly. Between the bed curtains, his movements slowed, yet each time, he began as if from the doorway, parting unseen curtains and stepping inside.

He pressed inward, step by step, staking his claim inch by inch, filling it to the brim. When he finally reached the deepest point, he saw her lips part helplessly, tears welled and spilled from her eyes.

Only then did he feel his dominance unquestioned. He withdrew, only to push forward once more.

In this way, whether the maids lit incense or not no longer mattered—the room grew heavy with musk and warmth.

Until, after a storm had passed, her once-cool body was flushed and feverish.

He carried her to wash, and by the time they returned, Qiu Lin and the others had already changed all the bedding.

Du Lingjing was completely drained. Whether she slept on the inner or outer side of the bed no longer mattered.

Seeing her melt into the bedding, the man couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle. "So exhausted already?"

"I can’t keep up with you..."

She managed to reply earnestly, though the rest—"no match for the marquis’s formidable stamina"—remained unspoken as he laughed aloud.

But hearing the rasp in her throat, his fingers brushed over her slender throat, massaging gently.

"That’s why I told you to eat properly."

Du Lingjing’s eyes widened a fraction. Eating well—for *this*?

Still, she lifted her heavy-lidded gaze to look at him.

He wasn’t angry anymore, was he?

She studied him a moment longer. Water still gleamed in his hair, one falling with a soft *plip* onto his bare chest. The low light blurred the old scars across his torso, leaving only the corded strength of his arms visible.

The furrow in his brow had eased.

Indeed, no longer angry.

"My lady is checking me out?"

*Peeking?*

She was just checking if he was still upset.

But she was way too worn out to argue. Her eyelids drooped shut.

The man would have liked to say more, but in the blink of an eye, she was truly asleep.

All he could do was draw the embroidered covers around her, his hand lingering on her shoulder, fingertips skimming faintly.

Lu Shenru wasn’t tired.

His gaze drifted past the bed curtains to the writing desk in the outer chamber, recalling how she had acted the part of the "scholar’s attentive companion" to his studies today—clearly on someone’s advice.

One of these days, he’d have to thank that advisor.

As for the earlier matter… he’d table it for now.

If she could stop drawing arm’s-length formality between them, then he was willing to wipe the slate clean.

...

The next morning, there were still loose ends to attend to. Lu Shenru paid a visit to where Shao Boju was being held.

The formerly brilliant Tanhua now looked utterly broken, the light gone from his gaze—clearly aware that there was no escaping execution.

Lu Shenru intended to question him on a few matters, but the man might as well have been deaf to his words.

Given Shao Boju’s status, rough interrogation wasn’t an option, and further interrogation was pointless. The incident had already been reported to the capital; by now, the court would know.

Meanwhile, the Countess of Rongchang had followed his suggestion and taken her two disgraced sons to confess their crimes. The Rongchang earldom’s generational honor might survive, but it would undoubtedly affect the Earl of Rongchang, still off campaigning.

Both the Shao family and his own side appeared to have come out bruised, but the score was even.

Whether Shao Zun, Grand Secretary Dou, and the others would take that view, however, was anyone’s guess.

A letter arrived yesterday, reporting that someone had submitted a memorial accusing several military garrisons in Shanxi's passes of embezzling the grain and provisions issued by the court as the bitter winter loomed. The military households lacked winter clothing, leading to mounting desertions.

The northwestern frontier garrisons were all under the jurisdiction of the houses of dukes, marquises, and earls who were on good terms with the Marquis of Yongding. Fortunately, the memorial was intercepted by him in advance. He had already decreed that all regions conduct an audit of their grain and cotton clothing. If any place dared to embezzle or withhold supplies, he would make an example of them.

When Du Lingjing woke up, it was already quite late.

Her head felt heavy, as if filled with muddy water—weighed down and throbbing, making it unbearable.

Just then, the man returned briefly from his duties outside and, seeing her awake but slumped against the bed in a daze, couldn’t help but approach.

“What’s wrong? Did last night wear you out?”

Last night.

Du Lingjing had only intended to apologize to him, with no ulterior meaning, yet…

She didn’t want to answer that question. Instead, he called in Qiu Lin and Ai Ye to help her get up.

Chong'an announced from outside, "Marquis, the troops are assembled and ready to depart. The two prefectural governors have also come to see you off."

Only then did Du Lingjing realize how late it truly was. He had only made a brief stop—there were still many matters awaiting him in the capital, and now he was about to set off back.

Hearing that the prefects had come to bid him farewell, he couldn’t refuse to see them. He instructed Qiu Lin to help his wife change clothes.

“The wind blew fiercely last night, and it’s even colder today. Bundle her up.”

Qiu Lin quickly agreed. Seeing that he truly was no longer angry with her—Tingjun had called it almost perfectly—Du Lingjing couldn’t help but glance at him a few more times.

Was he really this accommodating?

But the Marquis in others’ eyes didn’t seem to be like this…

She lowered her gaze in thought, but the moment she did, a sharp pain shot through her head.

The heaviness she had felt upon waking now intensified into an unbearable ache, leaving her entire body weak.

Ai Ye helped her into thicker clothing. “Madam, why are you so cold?”

Qiu Lin stepped closer, studying Du Lingjing’s complexion before reaching out to touch her forehead—then gasped.

“Madam, you’re burning up!”

Du Lingjing had spent most of her time in the library, rarely venturing outside, let alone spending a night in the mountains.

Qiu Lin exclaimed in alarm, “Could it be that a malignant wind has invaded your system, causing a chill?”

The physician who had treated Hu Tinglan’s injuries the day before had warned him to be cautious of catching a chill, lest his wounds heal slower.

The two maids wouldn’t dare neglect this and were about to report to the Marquis at once.

But Du Lingjing immediately stopped them.

“Madam, won’t you tell the Marquis you’re ill today?”

Du Lingjing shook her head slightly, only to feel another wave of pain.

Suppressing the throbbing, she said, “It’s just a minor chill. I’ll recover in a few days. Don’t hinder the Marquis’s journey.”

She was already too indebted to him. Yesterday, despite her doing nothing, he had forgiven her.

She no longer doubted him, but how could she burden him further and be a drag on him?

Du Lingjing insisted they say nothing. “I’ll speak to the Marquis myself. I’d like to stay a few more days to reminisce with old friends.”

Qiu Lin and Ai Ye could only acquiesce. Seeing that she could rest and recover here for a few days, they thought it might be the wiser course.

Before long, Lu Shenru returned after dismissing the two prefectural governors.

Du Lingjing noted that he bore his usual composure, showing no signs of illness. She thought to herself that, despite last night’s… intimacy, at least she hadn’t passed any contagion to him.

Two braziers burned in the room, filling it with warmth. One seemed newly lit, and her personal effects remained unpacked.

Before he could ask, she spoke first.

“Marquis, are you leaving at present? Some of my friends are gathered here, and I haven’t had the chance to speak with them much. Since it’s rare for us to meet, would it be possible for me to stay an extra two or three days?”

She tried to steady her breathing, and the man, as expected, didn’t notice anything amiss—only focusing on her request to stay behind.

He replied, “I wasn’t planning to return to the capital immediately either. I intended to inspect en route a nearby garrison to investigate the grain and cotton clothing situation… Though it’s not strictly necessary. Shall we depart tomorrow instead?”

Du Lingjing was taken aback.

He was actually willing to abandon his original plans and stay an extra day—for her sake.

But her illness was minor, insignificant…

She quickly shook her head. “No need. I’d like to spend more time with my friends, then accompany Brother Hu, Tingjun, and the other scholars back to the capital together.”

Since many of them were injured, the local officials would escort them to the capital after a few days of rest.

Du Lingjing calculated that by then, her minor illness would have passed, and she could travel with the group.

As for him—whether he went to inspect the nearby garrison or returned early to attend to state matters in the capital—it wouldn’t be delayed.

She insisted, but the man frowned slightly as he looked at her. “You’re really not coming with me? I’ve heard an outbreak of chills has spread in the Baoding region. Since you seldom venture outdoors, I worry you might catch it too.”

Du Lingjing nearly thought Qiu Lin and the others had told him.

But he didn’t know—yet he had already anticipated it.

Her heart rippled with emotion.

Was he… being too attentive toward her?

From his gentle treatment after their marriage to his repeated assistance; from gifting her the Guilin Pavilion’s collection to reclaiming her ancestral home and expanding it; from learning early on that she loved *Liaohua* candy to today, anticipating that her lack of outdoor exposure might make her susceptible to contagion…

Was it all because of that transient vision of her grace at the Pillow Moon Tower?

Or was it simply because the imperial edict had ordained their marriage, making her his wife?

Her mind was in disarray, worsened by her hazy dullness, leaving her too muddled to think straight.

Unconsciously, she met his gaze. His eyes were deep, like finely ground ink, and as he looked back at her, the ink-toned gaze softened, as if a droplet had alighted onto her heart, silently spreading.

Her heart thudded inexplicably, and for some reason, she couldn’t bear to hold his gaze any longer.

With the *Fu* Party now settled, she couldn’t let him stay another day—just for her.

Steeling herself, Du Lingjing said, “Marquis, there’s no need to worry. I’ll be careful. It’s just a delay of a few days—I’d like to speak more with Tingjun and the others. I’ll return soon.”

Lu Shenru saw that his wife was indeed determined to stay, and considering he had originally planned to leave most of his men behind to escort the party to the capital—especially since that Second Sister Hu was such a kind woman...

He let out a soft sigh. "Very well. But just be careful. If you truly fall ill, send word to me immediately, understood?"

Du Lingjing lowered her eyes and gave a slight nod.

The man had intended to conduct a surprise inspection of the nearby garrison to investigate the embezzlement of grain and winter clothing. Such an operation required an unannounced approach to expose the true state of these garrisons, and he couldn’t afford to delay any longer. Leaving Chong'an behind to look after his wife, he gathered his men and rode northward.

Before departing, seeing her accompany him to the doorway, he stopped her steps with a simple reminder, "Remember what I said."

Only after she nodded did he set off with some peace of mind.

He left swiftly, heading north until even the sound of hoofbeats faded from hearing. Yet when Du Lingjing returned to her room and sat down, she still felt as though he lingered nearby.

Her mind buzzed with jumbled thoughts of him, rising and falling incessantly. It took a long while before she finally calmed somewhat, exhaling a soft sigh.

But the moment she stood up, her vision suddenly blurred, and she staggered a couple of steps.