Chapter 52

Chapter 52

Du Lingjing had narrowly escaped being violated the day before. Fortunately, her arm was injured, and he ultimately didn’t dare to act recklessly, allowing her to escape.

However, when she tried to leave his Yuanyou Studio in the outer courtyard to return to the main residence, Chongping immediately approached her the moment she showed any intention of leaving.

"Would my lady prefer to stay in Yuanyou Studio to recover?"

Du Lingjing was slightly surprised. "Is recovering in the main residence any different?"

Chongping smiled at her. "It was the Marquis’s instruction."

Du Lingjing understood then.

She recalled how, the previous day, when he had angrily ordered that the steward and his apprentice be punished, she had said she would notify the steward first if she visited again. He had disagreed but hadn’t told her the right way at the time.

Now she knew—she was simply to enter directly, without any need for announcement.

And clearly, he was still nursing a quiet grudge toward her over this.

Yet he refused to say it outright, insisting she figure it out herself.

"..."

This wasn’t the first time he had acted this way. Du Lingjing truly had nothing to say about his rock-hard stubbornness and could only turn back.

However, when he was in residence, he mostly handled affairs in Yuanyou Studio. Staying in his domain meant he would occasionally return from his study to check on her, chat briefly, or have some snacks together. Noticing his content look, she even heard him say, "I don’t find much advantage in having such a large estate. Perhaps Quan Quan should move into Yuanyou Studio in the future."

But Yuanyou Studio frequently hosted advisors and guests. As the Lady of the House, residing in the outer courtyard and constantly running into these men would ultimately be inconvenient.

He was likely just speaking casually, though he added, "You should come by more often when you’re free."

The wind in the first month of the year carried a faint hint of spring’s return. Du Lingjing gave him a slight nod, and the man’s gaze softened further.

The new steward of the outer hall came to report that several members of the Fu Party had arrived seeking an audience.

Ever since that day in the woods when he had openly shared his thoughts with everyone, declaring that members of the Fu Party were free to come and go as they pleased, more and more of them had begun visiting, expressing their willingness to pledge allegiance to Prince Hui and the Marquis of Yongding’s household, gaining footing at court to work for his cause.

A few days prior, Du Lingjing had seen him receive many Fu Party members in Yuanyou Studio. Now that more had arrived, she glanced at him, only for him to suddenly snap at her, "I won’t see them."

Being contrary again.

Du Lingjing asked, "And why is that, Marquis? Afraid of gossip?"

He shot her a look. "Isn’t it obvious? More people are voluntarily coming now than before the New Year. I’d rather not be suspected of playing some reverse psychology—some underhanded plot."

As he spoke, he truly seemed unwilling to meet anyone, leisurely sipping his tea while stirring his tea.

Du Lingjing had already apologized to him, yet he still held onto this resentment in secret.

He always claimed he suffered daily grievances at her hands—but who was really the one suffering here?

Du Lingjing was no spineless doll without a temper. She said, "Then don’t see them, Marquis. Best if you truly don’t."

When Fu Party members came voluntarily, he always had the steward announce them immediately, prioritizing their visits. How could he possibly refuse to see them?

As soon as she finished speaking, she heard him laugh.

She also smiled faintly, but the next moment, he grabbed her uninjured arm and pulled her into his embrace.

She gasped in shock, while he lowered his head to murmur against her lips.

"Can’t you say a few gentle words to me?"

Like the way she spoke to Jiang...

No.

Just speak to him in that same tender, spring-like tone.

He lightly bit her lip. Du Lingjing winced slightly.

But what kind of gentle words did he want? She didn’t know.

Considering there were still people waiting for him outside while he lingered here biting her, she could only softly call his name.

"Wei Shi..."

Her lashes fluttered as she murmured his style name in his arms.

But the man remained unsatisfied, hoping she would say more.

When she didn’t, Lu Shenru pressed his lips together.

The next moment, however, she lightly wrapped her uninjured arm around his neck.

She had never taken such initiative with him before. A faint blush rose to her cheeks.

Du Lingjing felt as if she were about to break into a sweat, especially under his intense gaze.

But she truly didn’t know what kind of gentle words he wanted. All she could do was encircle his neck and whisper in a voice as small as a mosquito’s:

"Can you stop holding this against me?"

His eyes, dark pools, swirled with an intensity that threatened to pull her in.

His voice was hoarse as he whispered in her ear.

He said he could. "But tonight, let the maid light some incense, all right?"

Du Lingjing was surprised, but under his gaze, she could only nod slowly.

...

Perhaps someone had given special instructions, for the maid used strong incense that night.

The bedding in Yuanyou Studio had been thickened since her stay.

Du Lingjing lay within it, her body so feverish it was as if she had just been pulled from a bath.

He pressed her firmly against the carved bed frame.

He was careful enough—keeping her injured, still-healing arm entirely undisturbed while leaving no room for her to control anything else.

Drenching her thoroughly in the brocade covers wasn’t enough. As the fragrance grew stronger, he sought her again and again in her warmth. He suddenly called her name.

"Quan Quan, say something sweet to me."

Soft words again? What exactly did he want her to say?

Unfortunately, Du Lingjing was soaked in sweat, utterly incapable of clear thought under his overpowering grip.

She couldn’t speak, and he grew sullen. He pulled her onto his lap, pulling her flush against him.

"At least do like you did this morning."

What had she done this morning? Wrapped her arms around his neck?

Du Lingjing finally understood, though this pose was almost too much for her. Hastily, she looped her arms around his neck, even carefully draping her injured arm there as well.

Yet the moment she did so, his sweat pattered down from the man’s forehead.

The next instant, a frenzy took over—he demanded everything from her.

……

They only rested well past midnight.

She wasn’t sure how long she slept before faintly sensing someone rise to tuck the blankets around her. Blearily, she opened her eyes and saw him leave the bed, throw on his robe, and walk to the sword stand.

Exhausted, Du Lingjing closed her eyes and drifted back to sleep.

Before the sword stand, Lu Shenru stood silently.

The first light of dawn filtered through the window as he gazed at the Silver Snow Sword for a long while, his eyes downcast. He gave a rough chuckle.

"You brat… Eight years, and only now do you visit your elder brother in a dream…"

In the dream, his brother had rambled on and on, though upon waking, Lu Shenru couldn’t recall the words—only the way he had grinned and asked,

"Brother, didn’t I say you’d marry her into our family? Was I right or not?"

Before the sword stand, the man turned to look at his wife curtained in the bed and smiled again. He shut his eyes tightly, answering the question from his dream.

"Yes. Everything has come to pass."

*

——

The Lantern Festival came around in just a few days.

The Emperor and Empress were both ailing, though it wasn’t public knowledge. Du Lingjing had heard from Lu Shenru that the Emperor was particularly fatigued, frequently summoning imperial physicians to the palace. There would be no grand banquet for the festival.

The news visibly made the Marquis’s face fall. Still, though the Emperor had canceled the banquet, he followed tradition by inviting his closest ministers to admire the lanterns in the palace.

Early that morning, Lu Shenru changed into formal attire and left for the palace, telling her that the capital’s lanterns would stay lit all night. "I heard Hu Tingjun has returned to the capital. Since I can’t accompany you, let her join you for the festivities."

He assigned her a team of guards, worried about the festival crowds.

Du Lingjing did intend to seek out Hu Tingjun. After the midday meal, she headed to the Hu siblings’ lodgings.

Hu Tinglan, the elder brother, greeted her briefly before retreating to his study.

Shao Boju’s betrayal had hit him hard. It might be a long time before he could move on, and for now, he sought refuge in his study.

The thought reminded Du Lingjing of the year after her third brother’s passing. She had shut herself away in Mian Tower the entire winter, convinced that with her father and brother gone, there was nothing left in the world worth clinging to—she might as well let the storm take her. But her brother had made her promise to collect a hundred Song-era manuscripts.

That year, Tingjun had rushed from Cangzhou to Mian Tower, stuck by her side. She had asked, "If you leave too, how will his wish ever be fulfilled? You must gather those hundred manuscripts for him…"

The past now seemed lost amid the lanterns filling the streets, their glow flowing like water, drowning out the past.

Du Lingjing didn’t push Hu Tinglan further. Instead, she had Qiu Lin quietly hang a lantern she had bought earlier outside his study window.

Just as the lantern was hung, a tiny voice piped up. "What a pretty lantern!"

Du Lingjing turned to see a little girl of three or four emerge from the doorway. Her round face and large eyes looked just like Tingjun’s. She tilted her head, studying the lantern, then Du Lingjing.

Suddenly, she grinned and called out, "Auntie!"

Du Lingjing blinked in surprise. She had never met the child before—yet the girl recognized her.

Du Lingjing’s face lit up. "Xiao Luo?"

The little girl peeked up with a shy smile.

Tingjun stepped out from inside, tickled they’d recognized each other. She laughed, telling Qiu Lin, "Well, that saves me the introductions."

Qiu Lin, too, was immediately taken with the little girl. She dangled the new lantern playfully, and soon the child was giggling and chasing after her. When Qiu Lin playfully directed the lantern toward Du Lingjing, the girl barreled into Du Lingjing’s lap.

Seated and chatting with Tingjun, Du Lingjing found the child clinging to her, looking up bold as brass. "Auntie, hold me!"

Her chest tightened fondly, though her injured arm wasn’t fully healed. Qiu Lin helped lift Xiao Luo onto her lap.

Children always seemed adorable from afar, but holding one was another matter entirely.

The girl played with the lantern, climbing up and down, squirming like an eel. Du Lingjing, with her limited mobility and no experience handling children, had no idea how to hold or soothe her. Fearful the child might slip, she was sweating bullets.

Tingjun howled with laughter. "Jing, you’re such a bookworm—why so tense over a child? If you and the Marquis have one, will you be just as flustered?"

The words gave Du Lingjing pause. Memories of his relentless demands between the bed curtains flared in her memory, and her ears turned red.

She chose not to respond, instead noticing a pair of cloth figurines—chubby twins—adorably placed beneath the window behind Tingjun.

She recalled Tingjun’s sixth aunt, whose skilled hands had often sewn clothes for them back in the capital.

Changing the subject, she asked, "Did Sixth Aunt make those for Xiao Luo?"

Tingjun smirked as she glanced at her.

"If you like them, take them. Just remember to place them beneath your window."

She even instructed Qiu Lin to fetch them. Du Lingjing, puzzled by her odd expression, pressed,

"If you don’t explain, I won’t accept them."

"Then you’ll have to take them once I do." Tingjun grinned. "I got them from the temple—not Sixth Aunt’s work. A monk blessed them. They’re prayer dolls for conception."

Du Lingjing flinched. They were meant for praying for children.

She refused, but Tingjun teased, "Why not? Bet the Marquis would love these, huh?"

She immediately told Qiu Lin, "Take them back for your mistress. Put them beneath her window."

Unable to decline, Du Lingjing watched as Qiu Lin obediently bundled them up without protest.

She sighed to Xiao Luo in her arms, "Your mother loves to tease people."

The girl giggled. Hearing vendors’ calls outside, she wiggled free, eager to see the lanterns in the streets.

Evening was deepening—it was time to admire the lights. Not wanting to dwell on the matter, Du Lingjing went along, calling for Tingjun to join them as they headed into the bustling streets.

The lantern market north of Chengqing Quarter was the liveliest place today, and they headed straight there after leaving the house.

Hu Tingjun held Xiaoluo, who wanted to buy a lantern, as they walked ahead. Du Lingjing lagged slightly behind, but Qiu Lin approached her and suddenly asked in a hushed voice,

"Madam, the medicine you secretly bought earlier is running low. Should we get more?"

That small jar of medicine was nearly empty. Du Lingjing hadn’t expected them to be used up so quickly.

She froze for a moment, her cheeks warming. "How... how many remain?"

Qiu Lin estimated based on the Marquis’s habits, "Enough for about another month."

She noticed her Madam’s face growing even redder. The crowd jostled them along, and for a moment, the Madam didn’t respond.

The lanterns along the street gradually lit up as the sun set in the west, illuminating the streets like daylight.

Qiu Lin assumed her Madam was deliberate by nature and would likely continue using the medicine for many more days.

Unexpectedly, her Madam paused her steps ahead and softly said,

"Once this jar is finished, when spring arrives... we won’t need to buy more."

With those words, she quickened her pace to catch up with Hu Tingjun and her daughter, but Qiu Lin stood frozen in place.

Qiu Lin’s heart pounded wildly.

Was her Madam—no, her mistress—going to have a little miss or little lord with the Marquis?!

Elated, she couldn’t help but recall the winter when the Third Master passed away, how her Madam had been grief-stricken. She had watched over her, fearing she might do something rash. And now...

Qiu Lin nearly gave voice to her joy, but the streets were thronged with revelers. Suppressing her excitement, she hurried after them.

From Chaoyang Gate Avenue to the lantern market and then to Inner Chongwen Gate Street, the lanterns bloomed like a floral sea. Crowds from inside and outside the capital surged in, moving so slowly they could barely walk.

Yet some were urgently pushing through the streets—not just one person, but an entire group.

Hu Tingjun quickly picked up her daughter to avoid being jostled, while the Marquis’s guards stepped forward to shield them. But Du Lingjing overheard one guard mutter,

"What’s the hurry for the House of Rongchang?"

The Yang family of the Earl of Rongchang? Du Lingjing studied the faces of those rushing past—each seemed alight with happiness.

At this pivotal juncture, could the Yang family have received some great news?

Puzzled, she wasn’t the only one. Someone in the crowd declared,

"Word just came from the palace! While admiring the lanterns, His Majesty suddenly spoke of the Earl of Rongchang, who has guarded the frontier for years. He then ordered the Dali Temple to show leniency in the Yang family’s case. The two young masters of the Yang family will only be exiled, not executed!"

The crowd broke into chatter.

Some said, "No wonder the Yangs are overjoyed—two lives spared!"

Others remarked, "The Yangs kept their lives, but what of those they killed? They won’t return."

There was no use dwelling on it now. Still, Du Lingjing heard someone sigh,

"Shao the Tanhua is gone, and the Shao family suffered greatly. Grand Secretary Dou couldn’t shield them, but Marquis Lu—now that’s skill. Who knows what method he used? Not only did he preserve the Earl of Rongchang’s title, but he also saved the two young masters’ lives."

Hu Tingjun glanced back at Du Lingjing. "Did the Marquis soften toward the Yangs after all?"

Du Lingjing had no idea.

Since that time, he had never mentioned the Yangs’ case again. It seemed just as he had said—whether the Yangs’ case turned out well or poorly, it had nothing to do with him.

She shook her head. "Perhaps it was simply His Majesty’s momentary mercy."

Hu Tingjun naturally believed her, but the onlookers hummed with conjecture.

Many credited the Yangs’ reversal of fortune entirely to the Marquis’s mediation. "They’re in-laws, after all, and the Earl of Rongchang is a Yongding Army general. How could the Marquis bear to abandon them?"

"Now, the Marquis has brought the Fu faction into his fold and saved the House of Rongchang. Meanwhile, Grand Secretary Dou lost Shao the Tanhua, and the Shao family has withdrawn from the field. In this game, hasn’t the Grand Secretary lost to the Marquis?"

Praise for Marquis Lu’s prowess spread.

Du Lingjing listened absently, finding it almost amusing.

This matter likely had nothing to do with him. That the outcome favored his side was half the Emperor’s will and half fate. Yet outsiders knew nothing, assuming it was all his meticulous planning.

If it truly were his scheme, executed flawlessly without a trace, then he would be awe-inspiring in his cunning.

With a faint smile, she set the matter aside and asked Hu Tingjun about her husband’s efforts to secure an official post in the capital. "I only hope you and Xiaoluo can stay in the capital."

That night, the Marquis, having won this bout, didn’t return from the palace until late, scented with wine. He slept in the outer quarters.

Du Lingjing had considered asking him about the Yangs, but she feared he might think she doubted him.

Since it no longer concerned her, she didn’t press further.

The lunar month was nearly over.

At Hongluo Monastery,

The Prince of Yan found himself reluctant to leave.

He daily held literary discourse with Sixth Jiang. Though Sixth Jiang was about to take the spring examinations in the second month, he still spared time each day for a short discourse with the prince. Their conversations were always stimulating, and the prince admired his compositions, certain he would earn distinction.

One day, Sixth Jiang also showed him an essay. After reading it, the prince was momentarily speechless.

"This differs slightly from your usual style, yet its brilliance is undiminished. The ideas flow as if heaven-sent."

Sixth Jiang glanced at it and gasped. "Your Grace, forgive me! I brought the wrong one. This isn’t my work."

Surprised, the prince realized the handwriting closely resembled Jiang Fengchuan’s, but upon closer inspection, the brushwork was steadier and more restrained, though slightly wanting in force.

"Whose essay is this?"

Jiang Fengchuan explained, "In truth, Your Grace, this is an old piece by my elder brother. I’ve long practiced his calligraphy, so our hand is all but indistinguishable—even you couldn’t tell."

The prince understood. "So this is Jiang the Jieyuan’s work."

It was an old exam essay Jiang Zhuxiu had prepared for the spring exams.

The prince sighed. "Truly worthy of a Jieyuan. Such scholarly gifts—what a loss that he was taken so young. That he never made it to the capital to continue his career was the empire’s loss, His Majesty’s loss."

Profoundly affected, the prince fell silent. After a pause, Jiang Fengchuan said,

"My brother had two dying wishes. One was that I might scale the golden ladder, fulfilling what he could not."

"From my perspective, the Top Scholar's wish will undoubtedly be fulfilled this time," said the Prince of Yan, giving Jiang Fengchuan an encouraging nod.

But then the prince asked another question, "What was the late champion's other wish?"

As he spoke, he noticed Jiang Liulang hesitate slightly. "The other matter... was my brother's personal matter..."

Seeing him sigh at this point, the prince listened as he continued.

"Before his passing, my elder brother had a betrothed, his childhood sweetheart, who shared his heart. Sadly, his life was cut short, and he never had the chance to marry her. His dying wish was that after his death, she could remarry and live a happy, fulfilling life."

The Prince of Yan immediately knew whom he was referring to—

The Marchioness Lu.

As the Minister of the Imperial Clan, his most important duty each year was handling the imperial matchmaking during the Mid-Autumn Festival.

Last year, the Emperor had decreed a marriage—of all people, between Marquis Lu and her.

For a moment, the prince remained silent.

Then Jiang Liulang spoke again, "A few days ago, my third brother came to me in a dream."

He said, "He asked me why his betrothed—no, Marchioness Lu—had suddenly left Qingzhou to marry in the capital. In the dream, I told him it was by imperial decree that she married Marquis Lu. Then he asked me why the Emperor had made such a decision."

With a helpless expression, he sighed repeatedly. "How could I possibly know the Emperor's reasoning? But because I couldn’t answer him in the dream, it's been weighing on me ever since."

He added with a wry smile, "Surely I can’t ask the Emperor about this during the palace examination? If I did something so reckless, wouldn't the Emperor have me banished from the capital?"

Amused, the Prince of Yan chuckled.

"No need to trouble the Emperor, Liulang. I can tell you myself."

"Would that be... inappropriate?"

The prince smiled. During the Mid-Autumn period, not a word could be said, but now, nearly half a year had passed.

He said, his voice dropping, "The marriage between Marquis Lu and his wife was not actually the Emperor’s idea, but rather—" He paused, then smiled. "It was none other than the Marquis of Yongding himself who requested it from the Emperor."

Jiang Fengchuan’s heart skipped a beat, though his expression remained unchanged.

"When did he make the request? During Mid-Autumn?"

He asked, but to his surprise, the prince shook his head with a smile.

*

---

In the capital's outer city.

Ruan Gong stopped by Mr. Zhang’s bookstore to visit him at his wife's request.

Mr. Zhang offered him tea, but Ruan Gong declined politely. "Please don't trouble yourself, sir. My wife had intended to visit you in person, but due to her injury, she only ventured out for the Lantern Festival. Once she recovers, she will surely come to see you herself."

Mr. Zhang waved it off. "Jing's recovery comes first. However, regarding the eight Song-era books she asked me to look into, I’ve actually found some promising leads."

He remarked that the sudden appearance of eight rare Song texts, which had drawn Du Lingjing all the way from Qingzhou to the capital, struck him as suspiciously convenient.

"But after some inquiries, I discovered that four of them are actually connected to the Marquis' estate."

Ruan Gong's ears pricked up. Leaning forward, he asked, "Sir, did you say they’re connected to where?"

Mr. Zhang repeated, "The Marquis' estate—specifically, Marquis Lu’s Yongding Marquisate."

Ruan Gong felt a chill run down his spine as Mr. Zhang continued.

"You should tell Jing about this first. As for the remaining books, I’ve also sent people to investigate. Once all the information comes together in a few days, the truth will become clear." Breaking out in a cold sweat inexplicably, Ruan Gong, after receiving Mr. Zhang’s message, made haste back to the Marquis' estate to find his wife.