Chapter 42

Chapter 42

"Thank you… husband."

Lu Shenru was about to turn and fetch her another bowl of water. Before he could leave, these words, light as a whisper, brushed past his ear. Feather-light.

He turned to look. Whether it was the stifling heat of the room or her lingering illness, a faint flush had risen to her cheeks.

Had the fever muddled her senses?

She’d better not be delirious enough to mistake him for someone else.

Pressing his lips together, he set down the teacup and reached out to touch her forehead again.

The moment his hand moved toward her, Du Lingjing understood his intention.

She evaded his hand and blurted out, "I don’t have a high fever."

The four words chimed clearly in Lu Shenru’s ears. The earlier whisper, which had merely brushed his ear, now belatedly made it burn.

"Then say it again."

He looked straight into her eyes.

The night was utterly still, not a sound from the mountains outside the window—only her slightly hurried breaths mingling with the heavy pounding of his heart against his chest.

His voice was low. "Call me that again."

His brows knitted tightly, his ink-dark eyes devoured her like an abyss as he demanded she say it once more.

Du Lingjing’s breathing quickened, but she bit her lip lightly.

"Then Your Lordship may as well assume I do have a fever."

She was refusing now. Lu Shenru clenched his jaw.

She really knew how to torment him.

But in the next moment, his hand closed around her wrist, pulling her gently toward him. His other hand cupped the back of her ear and neck, drawing her closer.

His brows pressed even tighter, his lowered gaze nearly touching hers.

His hoarse voice dropped lower, quieter yet softer.

"Just once more."

Drawn forward, her neck tilted up by his hold, her lips nearly grazing his.

Though his tone was deep, there was a barely detectable hint of pleading beneath it.

Du Lingjing froze.

Tingjun had told her to figure it out herself—she had pondered it all day. So his two bouts of displeasure with her had been because of this?

He thought she didn’t trust him, hadn’t truly bonded with him, and worse, hadn’t treated him as her husband?

Was this matter truly so important that it had angered him twice, each time leaving him more sullen?

Du Lingjing found him ridiculous and utterly baffling. How could anyone care so much about this?

His grip on her wrist tightened, firm and domineering, refusing to let her mind wander even for a second.

He was waiting for her answer.

But she clearly had no escape from his grasp now.

Du Lingjing bit her lip again, but then a faint smile curved her lips.

"Husband."

Her lashes fluttered like butterfly wings, and the man saw the glimmer of warmth in her gentle, watery eyes—gentle as a spring stream.

It was like a drowning man gasping for air.

Yet inexplicably, he thought of the day she had married him.

Rain had fallen intermittently throughout that day. The bridal chamber had been crowded, two wedding matrons vied to shower them with blessings.

He kept saying "Generous rewards for all!", but when he lifted the red veil, he found her elegant brows drawn slightly together, fresh tear tracks still glistening on her cheeks. Her eyes were dull, refusing to meet his...

But today, whether some wise person had enlightened her or the remnants of fever still clung to her, she had called him—

"Husband."

He leaned down slightly, intending to capture the sweetness at her lips. But before his mouth could touch hers, she suddenly pressed a hand against his chest.

What? He searched her eyes.

Her lashes fluttered nervously. "I’m still ill—I might make you sick."

As Du Lingjing spoke, she heard him chuckle softly and shake his head.

"This trifling illness of yours?"

Since when do colds come in degrees?

She didn’t understand how he could underestimate a contagion.

She thought she was pushing with all her strength, but with a twist of his hand, he captured both of hers in his grasp.

Du Lingjing gasped—before she could even draw breath, his lips had already claimed hers.

It was a kiss, yet not quite. She was certain she hadn’t eaten any sweets today, yet he seemed to taste something sugary, savoring it carefully before seeking deeper entry.

The hand cradling her neck and ear pressed her relentlessly toward him. The slightest movement from her or attempt to close her lips was met with his thumb toying with her earlobe.

A shiver ran through her ear, forcing her lips to part—and he seized the opportunity to explore further. But she truly hadn’t eaten anything sweet! Yet he refused to believe it, his breathing grew ragged as he began his relentless conquest.

His eyes were shut tight, but not an ounce of his strength relented.

In that moment, Du Lingjing felt she had finally grasped something about this man.

Give him an inch, and he’ll take the whole road. Offer a crack, and he’ll claim the entire building. Show the slightest vulnerability, and he would take everything without restraint...

He still wouldn’t release her, seeing that she could barely sit still. Holding her by the waist to keep her upright, he wouldn’t allow her to pull away either.

Du Lingjing seethed inwardly and, seizing the moment of his distraction, sank her teeth into his lip.

He froze, his tightly shut eyes snapping open.

But the intensity in his eyes made Du Lingjing’s heart race. The next instant, he pressed her against the bed’s edge...

By the time he finally withdrew from her lips, Du Lingjing was gasping for air.

Clearly, her illness hadn’t fully abated, so he refrained from pushing further; for once, he let her be.

He tucked back the stray locks of her hair, teasing her temple.

"Quan Quan..."

Du Lingjing’s breath still uneven, she turned her head away, unwilling to acknowledge him.

Fortunately, Chong Ping returned with news, reporting that the physician from the inn had prepared a dose of medicine for her.

"He said if the lady takes this pill tonight, the journey tomorrow will be smoother."

Hearing this, he rose and summoned Chong Ping inside. After sniffing the pill and inquiring about its preparation, he nodded in approval and ordered, "See that he’s well compensated."

Chong Ping hurried off, while he poured fresh water and brought the pill over.

Du Lingjing mused silently—just for this single pill, what exactly did his "generous reward" entail?

She found him endearing, as if "reward handsomely" was his favorite phrase.

Thankfully, her sickness kept him in check. That night, he didn’t push his luck, though beneath the embroidered covers, his fingers tightened around hers.

But the next morning, he rode with her in the carriage for the journey.

Thanks to the physician’s remedy, Du Lingjing felt much better. Yet he insisted she rest longer, murmuring, "Lean on me."

She flushed—Qiu Lin and Ai Ye were both in the carriage.

Luckily, the capital soon came into view. However, the moment their carriage entered the Marquis of Yongding’s estate in Jiqing Ward, he was mobbed by people.

Having gone back and forth between Baoding and the capital for days, despite handling urgent matters along the way, there were still affairs demanding his attention and visitors seeking an audience.

He didn’t even have time to escort her back to the main courtyard, and even Chong Ping was swamped.

By the time dusk fell, he finally seemed to have a breather.

Du Lingjing had just summoned Shopkeeper Zhao to inquire about recent purchases for the Guilin Tower library.

With all members of the Fu Party accounted for, the selection process could now proceed more carefully.

But before Shopkeeper Zhao arrived, Chong’an came on his orders.

Chong’an carried a birdcage housing a colorful parrot.

"Madam! Madam!" The parrot called out the moment it reached the corridor.

As Du Lingjing approached, Chong’an explained it was a gift from subordinates to the marquis. "His Lordship thought it might keep you company. He’ll be occupied a while longer."

She knew his duties were endless, but she didn’t need his constant company. Besides, she’d always been uneasy around children and animals, keeping a step back as she observed.

Chong’an reassured her, "No need to worry, madam. This bird is trained—very gentle."

Only then did she take a tentative step forward.

Meanwhile, Chang Pu, Ai Ye, and the others gathered around. Chang Pu, especially fond of such things, exclaimed,

"This is a green parrot with a red beak! Last time I wandered through Qianxing Ward, I saw someone lose everything gambling and pawn this—it’s worth a fortune!"

Before he could finish, Ruan Gong glared at him. "You dare visit Qianxing Ward?"

Chong’an silently thought Ruan ought to reprimand the boy.

No one in the estate was permitted near gambling dens—except him, being the lady’s attendant, free to roam as he pleased.

Chang Pu hastily hid behind Du Lingjing, who now also gave him a side-eye.

He quickly changed the subject. "My mistake! I just went to see what they were betting on."

"Betting on what?" Du Lingjing asked.

This time, Chang Pu hesitated.

After all, the marquis and his wife were frequent subjects of speculation. Some even questioned why Marchioness Lu, a scholar’s daughter, never attended noble gatherings—was her status too awkward for the marquis’s aristocratic circle?

He mumbled something about petty rumors and swiftly shifted focus, praising the parrot’s ability to mimic speech. "Why not teach it to speak, madam? It can learn anything."

Chong’an agreed. "His Lordship intended for it to repeat your words."

"Me?"

Du Lingjing gave a small shake of her head. She rarely spoke much, nor had any amusing catchphrases. Instead, she had someone else in mind.

"Perhaps I’ll teach it something different."

...

When Lu Shenru finally finished his tasks, he asked Chong’an while changing clothes,

"Did the lady like the parrot?"

Chong’an nodded eagerly, explaining she’d immediately begun teaching it to talk.

The man smiled. "What did she teach it?"

To his surprise, Chong’an stifled a laugh instead of answering. "You’ll see when you return, my lord."

Raising a brow, he wrapped up his duties and headed back to the main courtyard that evening.

Entering the courtyard, he saw lamplight outlining her figure against the latticed window—she sat by it, head bowed over a book.

That "husband" from the inn had set his pulse racing. Quickening his pace, he pushed aside the curtain and stepped inside.

Startled, she glanced up. The light lengthened the shadows of her lashes, casting soft shadows across the bridge of her nose.

She didn’t call him "husband" again, nor "my lord." Just looking at him, she said softly,

"You’re home?"

She still held the book in her hand, and Lu Shenru felt a flutter in his chest.

Without thinking, he stepped forward and sat beside her. "Did you get lonely by yourself this afternoon? Did you teach the parrot to mimic you?"

She blinked, her eyes sparkled with amusement. Lu Shenru's gaze remained fixed on her face until she pointed toward the curio shelf. "I did. It's over there."

Lu Shenru snapped back to attention, suddenly recalling Chong'an's odd expression when reporting back to him earlier.

He stood and walked over, flicking a finger at the parrot before glancing back at his wife by the window. "What did my lady teach you? Say something."

The parrot seemed to recognize him, first screeching, "Marquis!" Then it opened its beak again.

"Rewards aplenty! Rewards aplenty!"

Lu Shenru froze.

When he turned back to his wife, he saw her covering her mouth, stifling a giggle.

The parrot's voice was loud, even the servants outside stifled their laughter.

The man shook his head with a laugh before lowering his gaze to his wife.

"Is this what you taught it? Who is it imitating?"

"Rewards aplenty! Rewards aplenty!" The parrot continued to squawk.

Du Lingjing could no longer hold back, her face flushed with laughter, but then she noticed the man approaching.

He simply stared at her, his eyes locked onto hers, before suddenly asking an entirely unrelated question.

"You’re feeling better?"

Du Lingjing instinctively nodded.

The moment she did, realization dawned on her, and she paused.

His voice dropped low. "Good."

...

Though it hadn’t rained in the capital, the banana leaves by the window seemed to sense the humid warmth emanating from inside, swaying gracefully in the night breeze.

No incense burned in the room, yet an inexplicable, heady, sweet scent lingered within the bed curtains, mingling with the heat of their tangled limbs.

The brocade quilt beneath Du Lingjing was nearly soaked through. Sweat beaded at the dip of her throat, sliding down her back with each sudden thrust, clinging to the long hair cascading behind her before dripping from the ends with a soft *plink*.

She panted, her breath ragged, her slender frame appearing even more delicate after days of illness. He was careful, cradling her, bracing her so she could endure more.

Gradually, even without the incense’s help, she could bear it fully.

He pinned her wrist to his hip, his calloused hand gripping her slender arm as he held her hips.

Outside, the banana leaves whirled wildly in the wind, just as he drove into her, hard and unyielding.

The leaves slapped against themselves with a rustling frenzy until she bit her lip, her toes clenching. In the depths of winter, amidst the vast, humid canopy of the bed curtains, she was lost in a sudden downpour.

His wife lay like a delicate, fragrant handkerchief, utterly soaked through the brocade covers.

It was some time before the man finally stilled, scooping her up for the bath.

The marquis’ manor was heated by heated floors—not just the main hall, but even the western chamber he had arranged as her study.

The entire courtyard was cozy, yet as he lowered her into the wide bathing basin, watching her pale skin blush pink beneath the water, he suddenly remembered the way she had called him *husband*.

In an instant, he dragged her back against him.

Her eyes widened, but there was no escape.

In the sloshing water, he made her surrender again, until she went limp...

The next day, he skipped court again.

But Lu Shenru did not get to dine with his wife.

The old nurse came to check on her lady in the main chamber, her face stern when she returned, before calling to him.

"This old woman must speak plainly to the Marquis."

Lu Shenru sighed inwardly, leading the matron aside. Unable to resist, he glanced back toward the room before speaking.

"Please, go ahead."

The nurse’s face was stern.

"What sort of man are you, Marquis? And what kind of woman is the Madam?"

Lu Shenru thought of how she’d seemed well again, yet this morning she had been running a fever again, unable even to leave the bed. Under the nurse’s sharp eye, he had no defense.

"The Marquis is a general who has ridden through battles. The Madam is a scholar who spends her days with books." He listened as the matron admonished him. "Never mind that the Madam’s constitution is frail by nature and her illness has only just passed—how long has it been since she first experienced intimacy? How could she endure the Marquis’ wildness all night?"

The matron suddenly declared, "If my lord has no self-control, he should simply take two concubines. At least then, the Madam won’t be worn to exhaustion."

The words hit him like a slap.

"Matron, you mustn’t!"

His voice roughened with urgency. "I want only her."

The matron lifted her eyes to study him. "Then my lord must treasure his lady and treat her with greater care. Can the Marquis do that?"

Lu Shenru exhaled. "I can."

"Then, from now on, have the incense lit for her too."

"The incense? Is that still necessary?"

He knew things between them were different now.

But the matron insisted, giving him a pointed look.

"That incense not only eases her nerves but also helps her conceive sooner."

That gave him pause. Absently, his gaze drifted back toward the inner chamber.

Aiding conception?

"Then please arrange it, Nurse."

...

Du Lingjing took three full days of rest before fully recovering her strength.

A few days prior, she had sent for Shopkeeper Zhao from the printing house to speak with her but had been unable to meet him. This morning when she got up, she felt much more refreshed. Qiu Lin, noticing her color had returned, remarked,

"Which outfit would Madam prefer?"

Though she'd mentioned clothing, she produced a box of hair ornaments instead.

Du Lingjing had never seen these hairpins before, but upon opening the box, she found it packed full of them.

They were not especially fine, but their colorful variety and realistic appearance made up for it.

She knew at once where they'd come from.

Qiu Lin said, "His Lordship had the seamstresses prepare several outfits for Madam, which have now been completed. They are made to go with these flowers."

Qiu Lin liked seeing her wear flowers too, recalling how, when the old master was still living, he'd often said that the young lady was too quiet. While other girls had mothers to dress them up, she did not, so he always bought her bright flowers to wear.

Who could have guessed that even after the master's passing, His Lordship would find so many flowers for her?

Qiu Lin smiled, selecting a pink-and-white begonia. "Why not wear this one? The sewing room just sent over a pink top and white skirt this morning."

Du Lingjing agreed readily—after all, they were just clothes, and it hardly mattered what she wore.

Yet when she donned the outfit and pinned a large begonia in her hair, she saw her reflection in the bronze mirror and was briefly stunned.

Was that radiant figure in the mirror, as fresh as a begonia, truly her?

She stared in spite of herself.

Qiu Lin chuckled beside her. "Miss, don't you know your own face?"

Du Lingjing paused, then laughed and shook her head.

She hardly knew herself.

*

Outside the capital’s outer city, at Guangning Gate in the west.

Jiang Fengchuan reached the capital before the Fu Party members.

Unlike Hu Tinglan and his sister, he didn't have to help the Dali Temple in the trial of Shao Boju’s case. However, come next April, he would participate in the imperial examinations. If he succeeded, the whole Jiang Shi clan of Qingzhou, which had not produced a jinshi in years, would celebrate.

His family had written urging him to stop traveling about and settle in the capital early to prepare for the exams.

Now, Jiang Fengchuan discussed with Uncle Hui, "Previously, I stayed at the Du residence in Chengqing Lane. But now, Uncle Hui won't let me call her sister-in-law, and it’s inappropriate to stay at her estate. How about renting a small place near the Du residence?"

He pleaded, but Uncle Hui insisted, "Sixth Master, you should stay somewhere else. The capital is vast."

Why must it be Chengqing Lane, right where Madam can see?

At this, Jiang Fengchuan scoffed.

"Can’t call her sister-in-law, can’t live nearby—does that mean I can’t even see her?"

Uncle Hui shifted uncomfortably, but Jiang Fengchuan pressed on, "Well then I'll rent a place near the Marquis’s residence in Jiqing Lane. Would that suit you, Uncle Hui?"

Uncle Hui looked horrified. "Sixth Master!"

Much to his shock, Jiang Fengchuan actually turned toward Jiqing Lane.

Just then, someone called out to them. Jiang Fengchuan turned to see—

"Nanny Pu?"

Nanny Pu from Dowager Consort Jiang's household.

Nanny Pu approached. "Her Ladyship knows of Sixth Master’s arrival in the capital for the exams. There’s no need to go elsewhere—come to Hongluo Temple. Her Ladyship has arranged accommodations for you with the abbot."

After Nanny Pu spoke, Jiang Fengchuan glanced at Uncle Hui.

"Did Uncle Hui inform Her Ladyship of my arrival?"

Uncle Hui looked slightly awkward.

If not for Imperial Dowager Consort Jiang, who in the capital could rein in the Sixth Master?

He remained silent, while Jiang Fengchuan chuckled.

With Nanny Pu personally escorting him, Jiang Fengchuan had no choice but to follow her to Hongluo Temple.

After paying respects to the abbot, Jiang Fengchuan proceeded to the quiet retreat at the back of the temple. He walked deeper inside until he reached a grand hall.

Imperial Dowager Consort Jiang stood before a towering statue of a deity.

The imposing figure gazed down upon the mortal world. Jiang Fengchuan bowed to the statue, then saluted her.

Before she could speak, he broke the silence.

"Why is Your Highness also helping her guard against me?"

His words drew a sigh from her.

"You know they’re guarding against you? Then why disturb her? Let her live peacefully."

At this, Jiang Fengchuan let out a low laugh.

He did not address the matter of Du Lingjing living quietly. Instead, his voice grew hoarse as he murmured,

"Three years ago, Third Brother was supposed to come to the capital with me for the exams. The physician said his illness wasn’t terminal yet—he still had a year or so left. But he never made it."

He asked, "Does Your Highness know why he couldn’t come?"

Lowering his voice further, he added, "If you knew how he was lost, could you keep your composure?"