Chapter 50

Chapter 50

"Quick, quick!"

Du Lingjing was drenched in sweat.

Mr. Liao had been forced to leave, and now someone was chasing him out of the capital—urgently, with armed men. Who else could it be?

That Miss Yang had truly resorted to unscrupulous means.

In the forest.

"Who are you people?"

Liao Xu had taken an arrow to his left calf. Hobbling on his injured leg, he could no longer walk properly, let alone navigate the rugged terrain. He could only crouch behind a tree, shouting hoarsely.

"I have some money on me. If that's what you want, take it! But please spare my life. My elderly mother has waited for me for years—I left the capital only to return home and care for her..."

But before he could finish, another arrow whizzed toward him. He barely dodged, the arrow grazing his hair before embedding itself in the ground.

He had offered all his money, yet they still shot at him—clearly, this wasn’t about wealth.

He gave a bitter laugh. "So it seems that Liao Xu, a failure in both officialdom and teaching, still has some use left in this worthless life."

Another arrow flew from the forest, but this one missed, striking the tree behind him with a metallic twang.

Despair crept over Liao Xu. With an arrow in his leg and nowhere to flee, it was only a matter of time before he died under these inexplicable shots.

Then, footsteps suddenly approached.

"Sir? Sir! Where are you?!"

"Jing?!" Liao Xu gasped in shock.

The footsteps drew nearer.

Du Lingjing and her men had been searching nearby. Hearing his response, she rushed toward the sound and immediately spotted the injured Liao Xu, hidden behind a tree.

His once-plump figure was gone. Now, he was gaunt, his body worn down by years of disappointment. Blood soaked through his pant leg, dripping onto the dry leaves beneath him. His face was ashen.

Du Lingjing was the first to see him, and the sight drew a sharp gasp from her.

She dashed toward him.

Liao Xu was overjoyed at first to see her, but then realization struck, and he shouted in alarm.

"Jing, don’t come any closer!"

But it was too late.

In that instant, another cold arrow shot through the forest—this time from a different angle, aimed straight for Liao Xu’s throat.

A fatal shot, without hesitation, meant to take his life in an instant.

Someone cried, "Jing!" Another cried, "Madam!" But Du Lingjing saw only the glint of the arrow as it raced toward the defenseless Liao Xu beneath the tree.

"Sir..."

Her mind blanked for an instant—then she lunged forward.

In the blink of an eye, she felt a sharp pain in her shoulder. The arrow skimmed her shoulder before thudding into the ground.

The marquis’ guards rushed in, surrounding the tree with drawn swords.

Liao Xu was unharmed, but the woman who had thrown herself over him to save his life now had her shoulder torn open by the arrow, blood streaming down.

"Jing! Child... are you all right?!"

Du Lingjing gritted her teeth, shaking her head through the pain. Though the arrow had grazed her shoulder, it had missed both her and Liao Xu, landing harmlessly on the ground.

She waved it off, but then three more arrows shot from the forest. The guards deflected them with their swords, yet she still raised her voice.

"Madam Yang, now, harming anyone further is impossible! Withdraw your men, and we can still reconsider this matter."

The sun sank westward, casting shadows over the forest as clouds darkened the sky.

She couldn’t spot Yang Jinyu’s hidden archers, but her gaze swept the surroundings. When no more arrows came, she continued.

"First, you tried to drive a wedge between me and the marquis. Unfortunately for you, my quiet nature foiled your schemes. Now, you seize this chance as Mr. Liao leaves the capital, trying to stage an ‘accident’ that would turn the Fu Party against the marquis."

She asked, "But have you considered this? The marquis has bent over backward to win over the Fu Party. If you harm Mr. Liao and alienate them, he may not abandon the Fu Party—instead, he may turn his fury on you, on the Yang family?"

Her words rang through the trees.

Concealed in the shadows, Yang Jinyu’s expression darkened. She sneered. "I’ll have him killed and blame it on bandits. How would the marquis ever know?"

At this, Du Lingjing laughed through the pain.

"You gravely underestimate the marquis. With his cunning, do you truly think he wouldn’t suspect you?"

But arguing now was pointless, she added. "The marquis’ men are here. Call off your men now, and you might escape his full wrath. But if you keep this up, even your two younger brothers won’t be spared."

"You—"

Yang Jinyu had dismissed Du Lingjing as weak—after all, she hadn’t uttered a word even after learning the marquis had sought an imperial marriage decree for the Remonstrating Ministers. But now, with arrows flying, she’d thrown herself into danger to save a man. Even wounded, she stood firm, spelling out the stakes clearly.

Still waters run deep.

Yet Yang Jinyu suddenly said, "And what if I don’t back down? What if I have you and that man both shot dead in this forest? With no witnesses, what then?"

Her words cut like a knife, sending a chill through Du Lingjing’s heart.

The Yang brothers weren’t above silencing witnesses—and their elder sister was no different.

The guards tightened their grips on their swords, closing ranks around them.

Yang Jinyu sneered. "With the men I’ve brought today, what chance do you really have if I give the order?"

The forest fell silent—no birdsong, no rustling. The sun vanished behind the clouds, plunging the woods into deeper gloom.

But before Yang Jinyu’s words could fully settle, a voice like ice cut through from behind her, each word measured.

"You dare?"

Yang Jinyu’s heart lurched. She whirled to see a figure silhouetted against the light on the hillside, his gaze sweeping down at her with disdain.

Du Lingjing also looked up. The man stood with his back to the light, the gnarled branches behind him swallowing the sky. The moment his eyes landed on her—especially the wound on her shoulder—his expression darkened like a storm.

At this point, Yang Jinyu only laughed.

"Marquis Lu, you wonder why I’ve gone this far? It's all to save my two younger brothers. But you refused to see me, leaving my Yang family to suffer. Do you know my mother has nearly cried herself blind? She took you at your word and handed them over to the authorities herself. And then what? You never saved them—you just washed your hands of it?"

She demanded of Lu Shenru, "If the second branch of the Lu family were still here, would you treat our Yang family this way?"

Her voice turned razor-sharp as she pressed him.

"Your own cousin died for you. Now that he’s gone, you’d throw his own kin to the wolves for the sake of these outsiders from the Fu Party, is that it?"

The mountains went dead silent. Du Lingjing was stunned.

She’d never heard him speak of it before—that the second son of the Lu family’s second branch, his younger brother, had died for him.

In the distance, a large bird let out a piercing cry, jarring in the stillness.

Lu Shenru was silent for a moment.

Du Lingjing saw the pain shadowed beneath his half-lowered lashes.

She heard his voice grow even hoarser.

"Yes, back then, my younger brother shielded me and took an arrow through the throat... He died in my place..."

His voice rang through the trees, but in the next breath, his gaze locked onto Yang Jinyu.

"But what’s that got to do with the crimes you Yangs committed?!"

He rounded on Yang Jinyu, "If it’d been me who died that day, and my younger brother had lived to inherit the title of Marquis of Yongding, do you think he would have shielded your crimes?"

As he spoke, his eyes flickered to the wounded woman with the arrow in her shoulder.

He slowly closed his eyes. "If not for my brother’s sake, you’d be dead here today."

The threat in his voice made Yang Jinyu’s blood run cold.

Yet Lu Shenru truly had no intention of killing her.

"Miss Yang, listen well. Even if the Emperor carves those animals of yours into ribbons, I will never plead for mercy on their behalf. This ends here for me. Don’t test me."

He made his stance unmistakably clear to Yang Jinyu.

Yang Jinyu swayed, almost buckling.

With her brothers gone, how would she last in the Wei Ducal Mansion?

"Lu Shenru, are you cutting the Yangs off for good?!"

But the man only laughed. "You three don’t speak for the whole Yang family."

He’d back a bastard to take the title if he had to—the future of the Yang bloodline would be different.

Yang Jinyu shook like a leaf, but her family’s guards urgently stepped forward, urging her to quit pushing the Marquis and get out. If this continued, and the Marquis truly turned against them, no one could protect her.

Her guards hustled her away, but as she turned to leave, the man spoke again.

"Which of you shot those arrows? Out with it!"

Yang Jinyu inhaled sharply, forced to abandon the archers who had shot at them. Chong Ping immediately had them seized and taken away.

Birds screeched again, sharp in the quiet. After the Yang family guards hurried Miss Yang away, the forest was left empty.

Mr. Liao’s leg wound left him crumpled on the ground, and Du Lingjing’s shoulder bled profusely.

He was at her side in an instant.

"Quan Quan... I got here too late!"

But Du Lingjing shook her head. He wasn’t late—without him, they’d be dead. Miss Yang had an army with her.

And with how busy he was, how had he found time to come? Was it for Mr. Liao?

Mr. Liao mattered—one of the most respected figures among the Fu Party after her father’s death.

Luckily, the leg wound wasn’t fatal.

But the bad blood between him and the Marquis needed fixing if the rest of the Fu Party were to be fully utilized.

She saw him bark at Chong Ping to patch her up, but she insisted, "It’s only a scratch. Have the guard check Mr. Liao first... I need to talk to the Marquis."

She gestured for him to step aside.

Lu Shenru’s brow furrowed—why talk before treatment?

But then he remembered—she had waited three hours for him...

"Speak!"

He bit the words out. Du Lingjing wondered who had upset him again, but this was the perfect moment, with Mr. Liao present, to lay everything out.

Softly, she said, "The Fu Party’s lucky to have your favor, Marquis. But they followed my father for his ideals. Years have passed, my father is gone, and the reforms have scattered. They’ll take exile over betrayal."

She glanced at him. "I know you wed me to control the Remonstrating Ministers. But they each have their own convictions. Push them, and they’ll push back."

Thinking of his patience with her since their marriage, she added, "Try being patient with them too. Those who align with you will stay. If they cannot, let them go."

She’d laid it all out—her truth, hoping he’d hear it.

But when she finished, the man’s gaze darkened as he studied her.

Lu Shenru looked at his wife.

Had she waited three hours just to say this?

Did she really think he’d wed her just to use the Fu Party?

A frustrated laugh nearly escaped him as he glared.

"Who fed you that lie?"

When she didn’t answer, he supplied it himself.

"Of course—Yang Jinyu."

Then he pressed, "What other poison did she spill?"

A gust scattered brittle leaves between them.

Du Lingjing frowned—why fixate on this instead of her point?

Fine. If he wanted clarity, she’d give it.

She raised her eyes to ask him,

"The Mid-Autumn Festival marriage decree—it wasn’t the Emperor’s idea, was it? It was you who petitioned for it, wasn’t it?"

She locked eyes with him.

Her gaze was serene, like the waning mountain sunset, just quietly watching him.

Lu Shenru paused for a breath.

Just because she assumed he married her for the Fu Party, calculatingly securing the Emperor’s consent, she’d cleanly relegated herself to outsider status, waiting in the outer hall with those who truly were outsiders, enduring three hours just to exchange a few words, without even letting the steward inform him in advance.

She truly couldn’t abide the slightest impurity.

If she knew the extent of his "scheming" to marry her—long before Mid-Autumn—how would she react?

The man held her stare unflinchingly, unmoving, his voice dropping lower.

"You’d take Yang Jinyu’s ravings as truth? If I said it was purely the Emperor’s will that brought us together as husband and wife, why wouldn’t you believe me?"

He countered.

Du Lingjing stiffened.

He said he hadn’t requested the decree?

But his anger only mounted.

"And these Fu Party members. Yes, I do want to use them. But I, Lu Shenru, am hardly so hard-pressed as to coerce anyone!"

The mountain wind brushed past her shoulders, and Du Lingjing’s wound throbbed faintly.

He said he hadn’t sought the decree, that he hadn’t married her for the Fu Party, and as for the Fu Party members, he didn’t absolutely need them...

The wind sent dry leaves swirling chaotically at their feet, and Du Lingjing’s mind was in similar disarray.

She looked up at him, and he lowered his gaze, looming closer.

For a moment, neither spoke, lips pressed tight. It was Chong Ping who stepped forward first. "Allow this subordinate to tend to Madam’s injury."

Du Lingjing hadn’t been pierced by the arrow, but its speed had left a vicious slash across her shoulder.

Chong Ping couldn’t treat it thoroughly here, so he applied a makeshift *zhixueyao* (blood-staunching powder) to stop the bleeding.

The medication burned, making her shiver slightly. The man, his earlier irritation forgotten, pulled her into his arms. "Hurry up, Chong Ping!"

Chong Ping worked faster, soon finishing the bandaging.

The sun dipped westward, and the mountain air grew chilly, but his arms were furnace-hot.

Every point Du Lingjing had raised had been overturned. Now, she had no idea what else to say.

She risked a glance upward. His eyes were dark, his chiseled features set in displeasure.

Just then, someone else approached from a nearby mountain path.

It was Hu Tinglan and the other Fu Party members from the capital.

Mr. Liao had only informed a few close friends of his departure from the capital, but upon hearing he was leaving, they had all chased him out of the city to bid him farewell.

When they arrived, however, they noticed something wrong. Seeing both Mr. Liao and Du Lingjing injured, they were shocked.

"What happened?" they asked urgently.

Mr. Liao briefly explained.

But Du Lingjing glanced at the man beside her.

Though Mr. Liao wasn’t seriously hurt, this mishap hardly helped build rapport between him and the Fu Party members.

Ultimately, he still hoped to win them over.

She couldn’t help but say, "I’ll tell them this had nothing to do with you—it was purely Young Miss Yang’s derangement."

She moved to step forward, but he stopped her.

Despite his lingering displeasure, he stepped forward to face them.

"Gentlemen, today’s events arose because I wasn’t transparent with all of you."

He admitted he did hope to enlist their support, to reenter court circles and bolster Prince Hui in securing the Eastern Palace, ultimately claiming the throne.

"But if any of you are devoted to Prince Yong, I’ll not compel anyone to shift loyalties."

He made it clear he wouldn’t strengthen opposition forces, "But if you simply wish to hold steady court positions, for the country and its people—even if not for Prince Hui—I will still do my utmost to recommend you."

"Let this amend for past transgressions," he added, deliberately meeting Mr. Liao’s gaze.

Previously, Mr. Liao had quit in disillusion after being punished for dissent.

Now, Lu Shenru declared, "My word is my bond. If you wish to remain in court, simply send a letter to the Marquis’s residence. And if you choose to leave, you may sever all ties with the Marquis of Yongding’s household!"

He spelled out his position bluntly and decisively to the Fu Party members.

They had known he needed their support, but this concession stunned them.

Du Lingjing, too, was stunned.

Was he genuinely granting them free rein?

Without looking at her, he addressed Mr. Liao. "I’d no wish to exile you from the capital. In fact, I’ve arranged a position for you."

He mentioned a vacancy for Jiangxi Judicial Commissioner, which would open in a few months.

Jiangxi was far from the capital, and the role specialized in provincial judicial affairs.

"With your capabilities, this office should be well within your capabilities."

After six years in Jiangxi, the Yong-Hui succession conflict may be resolved. By then, Mr. Liao could return to serve the new sovereign—none too late.

Liao Xu was staggered; he hadn’t expected him to have already secured such a position, with no pressure to switch allegiances.

"The Marquis’s generosity puts us to shame."

The others murmured assent.

"We never imagined the Marquis would exert such effort on our behalf."

He answered ambiguously, "Of course, if you are willing to support Prince Hui and me, the Marquis of Yongding’s estate welcomes you!"

As he spoke, he turned to look at the injured nearby.

"But I did not marry her just to make use of you all. That kind of twisted reasoning is not in my nature."

Those final words were meant solely for her.

Du Lingjing's lips thinned.

His expression hardened further, but he insisted that the wounded couldn’t afford delays. "It's best to return to the capital as soon as possible to treat the wounds!"

Mr. Liao's injuries were more severe than Du Lingjing's, so they truly couldn't delay.

The others murmured assent.

Du Lingjing looked up at him, wanting to say something, but he swept her up without hesitation and ordered Chong Ping to drive straight to the capital.

He was in a foul mood and didn’t speak to her the entire journey.

Yet, upon returning to the marquis's residence, instead of taking her to the main courtyard, he brought her straight to his study.

Du Lingjing had never been inside his study before—after all, it was strictly guarded, and no unauthorized personnel were allowed in.

He took her inside.

This time, he didn’t call for Chong Ping. When she suggested summoning Qiu Lin, he refused, personally peeling away her garments and carefully redressing her wounds anew.

He seemed quite skilled at dressing injuries, and Du Lingjing thought of the faded scars of varying depths that marked his body.

But again, he fell silent, his face cold, his mouth set in a grim line.

"My lord... are you angry?" She had no choice but to speak first.

He snorted, glancing at her. "What’s your guess, wife?"

Du Lingjing met his gaze squarely. "Is it because I didn’t trust your words and doubted you?"

Truthfully, she still couldn’t understand why she had suddenly come to the capital and married.

Had the marriage been unhappy, it might have made sense—but he treated her exceedingly well, so well that his ‘love at first sight’ left her baffled.

Softly, she admitted, "The Mid-Autumn decree blindsided me."

She was candid.

Candlelight wavered.

The man gazed into her eyes, where the firelight shimmered like water.

Suddenly, he asked, "What if I’d asked for that decree?"

His voice was quiet, hanging between them.

But the Marquis of Yongding saw that the moment his hypothetical words left his lips, his wife's eyes widened—the flickering light in them now trembling, flickering with alarm.

Alarm...

The man lowered his gaze and laughed softly.

The truth clearly unsettled her.

But those buried ghosts of the past—once turned over, they were done. He had no desire to dwell on them, nor any wish to bring them up again.

Let the past stay buried. Their marriage, truly ordained by imperial decree, could start anew from here—was that not acceptable?

He gave a derisive snort and repeated to her once more.

"Our marriage was indeed the Emperor’s will alone; I never sought it. If my lady still has doubts and refuses to believe me, you may take it up with the Emperor or Prince Yan someday."