Chapter 45

Chapter 45

As the twelfth lunar month arrived, the capital was graced by two more light snowfalls.

Du Lingjing paid a visit to Hu Tinglan. Brother Tinglan’s injuries had significantly improved, yet as the day of Shao Boju’s sentencing drew near, a shadow of melancholy still clung to him.

Tingjun, having given her testimony, hastened back to Cangzhou.

Du Lingjing had intended to invite her for a meal at Pillow Moon Tower, followed by a leisurely chat at a teahouse near the Imperial College in Chongjiao District. However, Tingjun’s heart was with her children at home, so Du Lingjing could only promise to meet her again after the New Year.

She herself was far from idle. With the spring imperial examinations slated for February of the following year, it was prime time for exam preparation books. Du’s Printing House, formerly in Qingzhou, had always seen booming sales during minor exams, and provincial autumn examinations were even more lucrative.

This year’s autumn examinations had passed her by, her mind preoccupied with her marriage in the capital, leaving Shopkeeper Zhao to shoulder the burden alone in Qingzhou. Now, she had summoned Shopkeeper Zhao to the capital and opened Mian Lou. He quickly hired a large staff and told her, "The capital is already teeming with scholars from all over, here to prepare for the exams. We’re bound to make a fortune!"

His words made it sound as if she had opened the bookstore solely to profit from scholars.

But then she reconsidered: she was no longer managing Mian Lou, but Guilin Lou. The recent expenses for acquiring books for Guilin Lou had far outstripped the funds she had brought. He had specially disbursed a large sum, and Grand Steward Zong had also dispatched stewards to assist.

The sheer amount of silver made Shopkeeper Zhao’s eyes nearly pop out.

Collecting books was costly, but constant expenditure without income was unsustainable. She instructed Shopkeeper Zhao to stop fretting over the funds allocated by the Marquis’s household. With the spring examinations approaching and Guilin Lou’s new reputation, the priority was to sell books steadily and gradually establish Guilin Lou as a proper library.

Thus, she didn't object to Shopkeeper Zhao seizing the opportunity to earn more. In recent days, she had been traveling outside the city, commuting between the Marquis’s residence and Guilin Lou.

Unexpectedly, the very first day she went to Guilin Lou, he sent someone to fetch her back the next day. When she went out again the following day, he had her brought back after just one night.

She thought this arrangement was acceptable—at least she could spend a night at Guilin Lou. But after only two such instances, today she left the Marquis’s residence early in the morning, and before dusk, he had Chong Ping personally escort her home.

Guilin Lou wasn’t far, but making a round trip in a single day still took considerable effort.

Upon returning to the Marquis’s residence, Du Lingjing found everything in order. She picked up a book and sat by the window, reading in silence.

No sooner had she settled down than he returned from the outer courtyard.

Du Lingjing merely turned the pages, ignoring him, curious to see what urgent matter he would claim had necessitated her daily back-and-forth.

To her surprise, he didn’t mention any pressing issue. Instead, he said, “The old estate in Xi’an sent a few deer to the capital—they look quite robust. And the flock of geese in the back garden, according to Chong’an, have been throwing their weight around. What do you think, my lady? Should we have the kitchen prepare some meat for roasting tonight?”

She left in the morning, only to be summoned back in the afternoon—just for roasted meat in the evening?

She remained silent but stopped reading, closing the book to meet his gaze.

Her clear eyes now stirred with tiny ripples of irritation. But her annoyance was like a feather brushing against his heart.

Lu Shenru didn't dare smile while she was upset, so he simply said, “The mornings are cold, and court is arduous.”

The cold mornings and the hardship of attending court—what did that have to do with her going to Guilin Lou?

But Du Lingjing understood immediately.

Because the mornings were cold and court was arduous, he wanted her company in the evenings.

He looked at her, his dark, striking eyes reflecting her figure, silently asking if she was willing.

A faint warmth rose to Du Lingjing’s cheeks, but she replied, “Guilin Lou needs these months before the spring examinations to establish itself.”

Unexpectedly, he asked, “Are funds running low? I’ll have Steward Zong allocate more.”

Du Lingjing widened her eyes—was this about money?

As she stared at him, he added, “The Marquis’s household has more than enough to spare for acquiring a few books.”

She knew he was feigning ignorance just to keep her at home.

She said, “Back at Mian Lou, I was somewhat well-known. Now that I’ve opened Guilin Lou in the capital, many scholars from all over have come to visit.”

If she stayed at the Marquis’s residence, people would hesitate to approach her due to the Marquis’s formidable reputation. But at Guilin Lou, it was different.

Most of these scholars brought rare books that were hard to find, which were priceless. If she wasn’t at Guilin Lou, she could only have Shopkeeper Zhao receive them on her behalf.

As she spoke, she remembered something else. “Young Feng has been helping me at Guilin Lou lately. It wouldn’t be right for me to laze about at home.”

Mentioning Feng Xiang was a mistake. At the name, Lu Shenru snorted.

“He’s not that young anymore. Blushing at the sight of people—does he have some ailment? Should we summon a physician?”

It wasn’t just anyone—it was specifically at the sight of his wife that Feng Xiang blushed and even stuttered, struggling to speak.

Not a good sign.

Marquis Lu pursed his lips in displeasure, and Du Lingjing couldn’t miss it.

She could only explain, “Young Feng has always been shy by nature.”

But he merely grumbled. “Then he should focus on his studies. Once he makes the rankings, I can arrange for him to get experience out there.”

He suggested regions like Jiangnan would be suitable. “Of course, it’d be even better if he went to Liangguang or Fujian.”

Jiangnan, Liangguang, Fujian? Was he planning to send Feng Xiang as far away as possible?

Du Lingjing almost laughed in frustration. Just as she was about to retort, he repeated his earlier words.

“Quan Quan, the mornings are cold, and court is arduous.”

Du Lingjing: “...”

His intense gaze, asking only if she could stay with him in the evenings.

For some reason, her heart softened.

“...Fine.”

She would go in the mornings and return in the evenings.

The Marquis clearly cheered up and immediately went out to order the plum orchard in the backyard enclosed for roasting meat. He also asked for wine to be warmed, planning to have a drink.

Du Lingjing couldn’t help but chuckle softly.

Yet as she watched his tall, broad-shouldered figure, she suddenly recalled his words—that marrying her had been a reluctant decision under imperial decree, but fortunately, she was the one who had won his heart at first sight in Pillow Moon Tower.

Du Lingjing had never experienced love at first sight and always found such notions difficult to credit.

But if he had married her and treated her like this, what other reason could there be?

At that moment, she couldn’t think of one.

*

Hongluo Temple.

The Jiang family heard that Jiang Fengchuan had settled in the capital to prepare for the exams. Fearing he might overexert himself in the coming months, they sent a steward and two servants from Qingzhou to attend to him.

Liulang, being young and not burdened by the melancholy that weighed on Hu Tinglan due to Shao Boju’s affairs, had suffered more severe injuries than Hu Tinglan but recovered much faster.

Dowager Consort Jiang arranged for a royal physician to examine him, who assured that by February next year, he would be fully recovered and fit to endure the nine-day metropolitan examination in the spring.

Nine grueling days of exams—his elder brother Jiang Zhuxiu could never have endured them, but he could.

Lately, he had been studying diligently, rising before dawn to walk two laps around the temple before sitting in his room all morning. He skipped afternoon naps but studied late into the night.

His diligence touched Dowager Consort Jiang, who worried he might push himself too hard. She instructed Nanny Pu to prepare daily medicinal soups for him, sent to his study in the guest quarters.

Whenever Nanny Pu arrived, Liulang would rise to take a short break, inviting her to sit while playfully refusing to let her open the tonic pot. "Nanny, let me guess today’s ingredients."

He always guessed correctly, astonishing Nanny Pu.

One day, she asked, "Sixth Young Master, did you often accompany Third Master before? You seem to know every herb."

Liulang modestly replied, "I wouldn’t call myself an expert. In medicine, I’m not even a tenth as skilled as my brother. But would you like to know how I always guess right?"

Nanny Pu couldn’t fathom it—perhaps he practiced Daoist divination and calculated the answer?

To her surprise, he said, "It’s because the two maids who help you gather the herbs chatter about the day’s medicinal soup as they pass beneath my window. It’s hard not to know!"

Before he could finish, Nanny Pu laughed aloud before hastily covering her mouth, mindful of palace decorum. Yet she couldn’t help but grow even fonder of the young master.

Jiang Fengchuan poured her tea and joked, "I heard the Prince of Yan plans to stay at Hongluo Temple after the New Year. Could it be he’s coming for Nanny Pu’s cooking?"

Nanny Pu had once served in the imperial kitchens before transferring to Dowager Consort Jiang’s palace due to a hand injury. Her skills remained impeccable, and even a few pointers from her elevated the temple’s meals.

His jest made her smile even wider.

She protested lightly, "The Prince of Yan visits Hongluo Temple every year to meditate and pray—not for my cooking!"

"So he comes every year? When exactly? I’ve never met His Highness and wouldn’t want to offend him accidentally."

Nanny Pu reassured him, "His Highness stays for ten days to a fortnight every January. He admires scholars, and with your refinement, Sixth Young Master, he’d be delighted to meet you."

After a few more words, she rose, reminding him to consume the tonic while hot as per Dowager Consort Jiang’s orders. "This old maid must return to Her Ladyship and won’t delay you further."

Jiang Fengchuan saw her out to the courtyard gate himself.

When he returned, his steward, Hui Shu, inquired, "Why did Sixth Young Master inquire about the Prince of Yan?"

The Prince of Yan was the emperor’s uncle, though barely four or five years older. Due to a lifelong weakness in his limbs—so much so he could scarcely hold a brush—the late emperor doted on him as if he were his own son, keeping him in the capital, where a residence was built for him rather than sending him to his fief.

Jiang Fengchuan knew all this, but it wasn’t what mattered.

He smiled at Hui Shu. "Just a passing thought. But Uncle Hui, what’s troubling you?"

Hui Shu had cause for concern.

Though the Prince of Yan held no real power, he held a crucial post.

He was the Minister of the Imperial Clan, managing the annual Mid-Autumn Festival marriage edicts, where noble families presented candidates for imperial marriages.

While others might be unaware of the imperial edicts regarding marriages, the Prince of Yan, as the Minister of the Imperial Clan, knew all the details.

However, this prince kept to himself, hardly ever seen by common folk, and he wouldn’t just bring up such things casually. Yet, Liulang inquired about this Minister of the Imperial Clan’s upcoming stay at Hongluo Temple for a fasting retreat.

Hui Shu secretly balled his fists inside his sleeves.

Was Liulang planning to seize this opportunity to inquire about the imperial edict concerning the marriage of the Marquis and his wife?

But Hui Shu dared not question him further. One word from him, and Liulang would pull the whole story loose.

Liulang was nothing like San Ye.

Hui Shu held his tongue, though inwardly troubled.

Jiang Fengchuan, however, took his time with the tonic and even served Hui Shu a bowl, with a kind smile.

"Would you like some too, Hui Shu? Nanny Pu’s tonic today soothes the spirit and calms the mind. No need to worry so much."

He’d find out what he needed to know eventually.

But he kept this thought to himself, instead rising to fetch some papers from his desk. He said these were essays he had written recently. "Hui Shu, please deliver these to the Marquis’s residence and ask her to look them over for me."

The young lady had always gone over San Ye’s essays, even providing detailed critiques. San Ye often remarked that her comments were sharper than most scholars’.

Now, Liulang also wished for her feedback. Hui Shu hesitated, but Liulang added, "They’re just essays—can’t be that hard, right?"

Hui Shu could only nod. Then, Liulang took a brocade pouch from his waist.

"And this. The abbot of Hongluo Temple met me yesterday morning and gifted me this protective charm. Since I follow Daoism, I have little use for a Buddhist charm. But since it was blessed by the abbot himself, I figured I’d give it to her."

A charm blessed by the abbot of Hongluo Temple himself was nothing to scoff at.

Though Liulang often bothered the lady, whenever he obtained something precious—be it books, mountain spring water, or protective charms—he always made sure she got first dibs.

Hui Shu sighed and, after learning Du Lingjing’s whereabouts, headed straight to Guilin Tower.

Du Lingjing accepted Liulang’s essays without much surprise, saying she’d read them and jot down some notes for his reference.

As for the protective charm, she instructed Chang Pu to fetch two newly compiled, yet-to-be-published anthologies of contemporary essays, assembled by Feng Xiang, to return the favor.

After handling these matters, it was already getting dark, and Chong’an arrived at the door to escort her home.

Recalling someone’s remark about "the hardship of attending court in the cold," she chuckled and shook her head, thinking she might teach this phrase to the green-beaked parrot later—just to see its reaction.

She returned to the capital with Chong’an.

On the way, their carriage nearly collided with another.

It turned out to be the carriage of the Duke’s household. Chong’an turned to her and said, "Madam, it’s the carriage of the wife of the heir to Duke Weiguo."

Miss Yang, the eldest daughter of the Earl of Rongchang’s household.

Though the other carriage belonged to a ducal household, as the wife of a marquis, Du Lingjing held higher precedence, and Miss Yang ought to yield.

However, Du Lingjing paid no mind to such formalities. Recalling the affairs of the Earl of Rongchang’s household, she instructed Chong’an to make way by the roadside.

Unexpectedly, the opposing carriage retreated slightly before turning into a side alley and taking another route.

"How could the heir's wife be so rude?" Qiu Lin murmured under her breath.

Du Lingjing shook her head at her, indicating it was of no consequence. She noticed Miss Yang's carriage was heading toward her maternal home, the Rongchang Estate, likely because the Countess must be doing worse.

With the New Year approaching, the Emperor had ordered the Grand Court of Judicature to temporarily suspend the trials, clearly intending to settle both cases only after the festivities.

Yet whether it was Shao Boju or the two young masters of the Earl of Rongchang's household, they were likely doomed. Be it Miss Yang or the Countess of Rongchang, this New Year would be particularly difficult for them.

Du Lingjing didn't dwell on the matter and returned to the Marquis's residence. Meanwhile, inside the carriage that had turned into the alley, the Yang family's accompanying matron couldn't help but remark,

"The Marchioness made way for you, madam, yet you had the carriage turn away. Might the Marchioness take offense?"

If the Marchioness were displeased and mentioned it to the Marquis, he would be even less inclined to intervene on behalf of the Yang family's two young masters.

But as she fretted, she heard her own mistress, Miss Yang—Yang Jinyu—respond coldly,

"What if she is displeased? The Marquis has already abandoned our family's affairs. Father cannot return to the capital, Mother weeps at home every day, and those two in prison are just waiting to die. The Marquis is only waiting for this case to conclude so he can wholeheartedly promote those Fu faction officials Du Lingjing brought with her. Why would he care about our survival?"

She continued bitterly, "Even if I tried to win Du Lingjing's favor now, could it turn back time and make the Marquis reconsider his choices?"

She answered her own question—no. Then, abruptly, she said, "If only Du Lingjing were overbearing and insolent—perhaps then the Marquis would grow weary of her and reconsider, remembering the years of loyalty from us martial nobility!"

The moment the words left her lips, she froze, as if startled by her own thoughts.

Time could not be reversed. The Fu Party members had already been rescued—perhaps the Marquis had always intended to save them and win them over.

But what if the Marquis were to realize that neither Du Lingjing nor the civil officials of the Fu Party behind her were truly aligned with him, the Imperial Consort, or Prince Hui? Would he then reconsider, deciding that securing the support of the martial nobility who had always backed Prince Hui was the most crucial?

If so, perhaps the Marquis and the Imperial Consort could still intervene before the Emperor passed judgment on her two younger brothers...

Miss Yang drifted into thought.

Her matron, however, picked up on her meaning and quickly asked, "What does my lady plan to do?"

Yang Jinyu remained silent for a moment, her eyes still following the intersection where Du Lingjing's carriage had disappeared.

"I need to think."