Chapter 60

Chapter 60

Jiqing Quarter, Shushi Pavilion in the Marquis’s Estate.

Princess Nianjia stood atop the rockery, gazing at the distant Imperial City, feeling as though the place where she had grown up had suddenly become remote.

“Perhaps I’ve been in Shaanxi for too long. Compared to the nobles in the palace and beyond, living in silks and satins, I often think of the soldiers guarding the northwestern frontier—especially those in the Yongding Army.”

She spoke of the 14th year of Hongqi, when the Yongding Army suffered that catastrophic defeat. “We were all young then, far away in the capital, and could only feel terrified.”

Indeed, at that time, Du Lingjing only saw her father, after the Yongding Army’s disaster, corresponding urgently—either summoning people to the mansion for discussions or going out to meet others. He would stay up all night drafting memorials to submit to the throne. Back then, her father had not yet become a Grand Secretariat member, so his influence was limited, yet he still did everything he could to avert disaster.

Nianjia said she had only felt fear at the time. “But it wasn’t until I went to the northwest that I realized just how devastating the Yongding Army’s losses were that year.”

She first mentioned Lu Shenru’s father, then the Yongding Marquis’s heir. “He was the next leader of the Yongding Army, unquestioned and revered by all. Yet he fell beyond the frontier. When the news reached the capital, not only the Lu family—Old Marquis Lu and Lu Shenru—but generals from other families, even ordinary soldiers and civilians, wept bitterly.”

Without generations of the Lu family guarding the northwestern border, neither soldiers nor civilians could live in peace. How, then, could the capital and the heartland enjoy prosperity?

At Shushi Pavilion, Du Lingjing had tea served. Nianjia did not sit to drink but remained standing in the wind.

She said too many had died in that disaster—far more than just the Lu family. From nobles who had held ironclad privileges from the founding emperor to local northwestern generals who had fought their way up, nearly every military household that year hung white funeral banners, their wails shaking the heavens.

Finally, Nianjia spoke of the Wei family of the Earl of Zhongqing’s Household—Wei Cong’s family.

“The heir’s uncle had his head hacked off by the Tatars and hung on a high ridge for three days and three nights. Once his blood had dried, the Tatars sent his head to the capital, demanding negotiations…”

The wind at Shushi Pavilion stilled for a moment.

Du Lingjing recalled the incident.

That day, her father returned from court with a face like thunder.

He told her that the most capable general of the Wei family had fallen, his head severed by the Tatars and sent back to the court.

When the head was displayed in the grand hall, countless civil officials’ knees shook.

“Peace talks! Let’s agree to peace talks. The Yongding Army is likely finished anyway…” they clamored.

Even Nianjia, who usually brushed things off without a second thought, sighed deeply that day.

She said when she followed Wei Cong to the northwest, the Yongding Army had already regrouped.

“Of course, much of that was thanks to your Marquis Lu, who held the line for them in the court.”

She glanced at Du Lingjing, but seeing her silent, she said no more, only adding,

“To the soldiers and civilians of the northwest, only when the Imperial Noble Consort ascends to the throne with her son, and Lu Shenru holds absolute power, can they rest assured and continue guarding the frontier with their lives.”

She sighed again. “After all, the battle in the 14th year of Hongqi was too painful.”

Du Lingjing fell silent as well.

She did not look toward the Imperial City beyond the mansion’s walls but quietly took in every detail of the Marquis of Yongding’s estate.

*

Marquis of Yongding’s Mansion, Outer Courtyard's Yuanxiu Pavilion.

The moment Lu Shenru uttered the word “spies,” Wei Cong nodded slowly.

After the battle in the 14th year of Hongqi, Old Marquis Lu had his men comb through the details of the root of the disaster. In the end, they discovered spies had infiltrated the ranks of the military commanders.

It was not unusual for Tatar spies to slip in, but back then, the Yongding Army’s campaign plans were closely guarded secrets—common spies couldn't have breached such secrecy.

Yet those spies not only stole critical battle strategies and smuggled them out unnoticed but, more importantly, their masters remained unknown.

For years afterward, Old Marquis Lu had his men comb through every Tatar clan, yet they could never trace the spies’ origins.

Until their shadows reappeared in Henan and Shandong.

That year—the 2nd year of Yin You—Lu Shenru received his grandfather’s secret orders to quietly investigate the spies’ traces in the Henan-Shandong region. Just as he glimpsed faint traces, the young man barely escaped with his life, hiding in the Du family’s Mianlou for an entire summer.

Sadly, Lu Hengru was not so fortunate. After the brothers left Qingzhou to follow new leads, Lu Hengru took an arrow meant for his elder brother and died in his arms.

Though Old Marquis Lu grieved the loss of his second grandson, he laid down a strict edict: the spy investigation was to cease.

Years passed until Lu Shenru assumed the title of Marquis of Yongding, took the reins of the Yongding Army, and entered court politics.

He revived the investigation and delegated it to Wei Cong.

“Your findings?” Lu Shenru asked.

In Marquis Lu’s Yuanxiu Pavilion, there was no fear of eavesdroppers.

Wei Cong stated bluntly,

“Those spies have reappeared—in the capital region.”

“The capital region?” Marquis Lu raised an eyebrow.

The origins of these spies were highly ambiguous—some had Tatar faces, while others looked entirely native Central Plainsmen. They operated in the shadows, their patrons clearly powerful, shielding them for years, sometimes beyond the frontier, other times within the heartland.

Now, they had reached the capital region.

Wei Cong reported his findings: “They have a secret stronghold in the capital region. I’ve roughly located its position but haven’t acted to avoid tipping them off.”

Hence his return to the capital to consult with Lu Shenru.

These spies were no common infiltrators, and the powers behind them were even more extraordinary.

Hearing this, Lu Shenru did not respond immediately. His dark eyes pierced the distance.

Abruptly, he said, “The marquis’s estate has a mountain villa in Wanping. After the Marchioness of Jing'an’s birthday banquet in a few days, take the princess there for a brief sojourn. Recuperate well.”

He added, “When I have time, I will visit.”

Wei Cong caught his meaning immediately—

Lu Weishi meant to pursue the investigation of the spies personally.

……

After their conference in Yuanxiu Pavilion, it was already late.

Yet neither man summoned their wives. Instead, they went to find them themselves.

Just as they entered the rear garden, they saw Du Lingjing and Nianjia returning from their walk.

Their eyes met, each looking at their own wife.

Du Lingjing pretended not to notice, showing no reaction whatsoever, while the marquis’s gaze darkened as it lingered.

But Nianjia felt the gaze of her husband, the heir, slowly settle upon her, and suddenly the floor beneath her feet seemed to burn. She couldn’t decide whether to step left or right, her entire body overcome with discomfort.

She quickly remarked that it was getting late, "My lord, isn’t it time for your medicine? Let’s hurry back."

Wei Cong smiled and nodded, agreeing to whatever she said. "Alright."

But her discomfort was so obvious that even Lu Shenru cast her a glance, while Du Lingjing hid a quiet laugh.

After seeing the two of them off to the front courtyard, she couldn’t help but chuckle again.

How could Nianjia not hear her suppressed laughter? Her cheeks flushed slightly, and by the time she sat beside him in the carriage, not just her face but even her ears and neck had grown warm.

Wei Cong was injured, of course, and couldn’t ride a horse, so he sat beside Nianjia.

Though she occupied the main seat and he the side, his mere presence seemed to fill the entire carriage.

Nianjia didn’t dare look at him directly, stealing only a sidelong glance. Seeing him resting with his eyes closed, she let out a quiet sigh of relief—but then her thoughts drifted to recent events.

Back then, when she received news of his severe injury, she went pale with shock.

She couldn’t imagine how someone so fierce and skilled in battle as him could be wounded so gravely that someone had to make a special trip to Xi’an to tell her.

He never told her about ordinary injuries.

Just how severe must this have been? Had he… died?

Terrified, she rushed to Ningxia, only to find him lying on the bed with his eyes closed.

She couldn’t help but blurt out as she approached,

"My lord, are you dead?!"

As soon as the question left her lips, the entire room fell silent. The attendants and physicians nearby were at a loss for words.

Only the general lying on the sickbed, compelled by her inquiry, opened his eyes slightly to look at her and replied himself.

"Not yet," he answered.

Then he asked, "Do you want me to die, Princess?"

Her response mirrored his.

"Not yet!"

She wasn’t about to let Prince Yu’s Mansion become a house of widows.

The Imperial Dowager Consort had lost the late emperor, her mother had lost her father—she couldn’t possibly become a widow too!

She shook her head wildly, and the man laughed.

"Then I shall live," he said.

"I also wouldn’t want the Princess to remarry."

The carriage creaked along the road. That day, after saying this, his gaze had remained fixed on her, full of quiet laughter. And it wasn’t just that day—whenever he looked at her, she always seemed to detect a trace of soft laughter in his eyes.

But what was he laughing at? Was Princess Nianjia some kind of joke?

Besides, they barely knew each other, did they? Apart from their wedding night, when palace attendants stood guard outside and they had been together, she had never shared a bed with him since…

Nianjia’s mind tangled like a mess of threads. She simply shut her eyes and pretended to rest.

Meanwhile, Wei Cong beside her lifted his eyelids slightly and shot her an amused look.

*

At the Marquis of Yongding’s residence,

After Nianjia left, Du Lingjing couldn’t help but laugh at the memory of her wriggling like a nervous silkworm.

A faint smile curved her lips, the gentle spring breeze brushing against her long lashes.

It had been so long since she had smiled like this. Lu Shenru gazed at his wife, mesmerized, and couldn’t help but murmur softly,

"Let’s have dinner at Zhenyue Tower tonight?"

A warm spring breeze drifted between them, yet the moment his words landed, the air stilled for a moment.

Du Lingjing looked at him. "Are you finally letting me out?"

Eight days.

This was the first time she had spoken to him.

But the man didn’t answer her question.

Silence meant she was still trapped.

She started to walk away, but he reached out to stop her.

"I heard there’s a dance performance in honor of the Flower Goddess at Zhenyue Tower recently."

Even if there wasn’t, if she agreed to go, he could summon musicians and dancers on the spot.

He had the whole capital at his beck and call.

But Du Lingjing only let out a faint laugh.

"So the marquis has free time now and intends to personally take me out…"

She paused, meeting his eyes.

"For fresh air."

As if she were a prisoner.

The words pierced Marquis Lu like a knife.

The fleeting smile on her face in the spring breeze vanished. Lu Shenru winced at her sharp words.

And then she added, "I’m staying right here."

She lowered her head and walked back.

The chill from the stone pavement, her skirts whipped the cold air toward him. Lu Shenru felt like he was being torn apart. Nothing more to say.

...

In the evening, a spring rain fell over the Marquis's estate, dampening the cracks between the bricks.

Du Lingjing instructed Qiu Lin to heat water for her bath. She submerged herself in the deep tub, briefly clearing her mind, closing her eyes for a brief rest.

When she awoke, she noticed Qiu Lin had refilled the tub several times. The water had risen nearly to her chin, filling the bathing chamber with thick steam that curled like mist, making everything hazy.

Seeing this, Du Lingjing finally wrung out her hair and called softly for assistance to bring her the long towel to wrap herself in.

Someone approached from behind.

Still preoccupied with wringing her hair, she barely noticed until the long towel draped over her shoulders, wrapping around her front and enveloping her completely.

She realized the person behind her wasn't who she expected.

Then, without hesitation, he lifted her horizontally out of the deep tub.

Cradled in his arms, she was as light as a flower in his embrace, damp from the rain. Water droplets from her hair pattered onto the floor, some trickling down to the half-wrapped towel clinging to her chest.

The white towel instantly soaked through, clinging to the delicate curves beneath, revealing suggestive contours.

Du Lingjing hastily tugged the towel higher, covering even her collarbones, then glared at him reproachfully.

Was his condition acting up again? Did he intend to demand a child from her tonight?

She tensed.

The man noticed immediately.

Mist drifted through the bathing chamber, silently weaving through the air.

His voice, roughened by old injuries, was low and hoarse, like a drop about to fall into darkness, weighted with meaning.

"I won’t touch you."

As promised, he made no untoward advances. Yet he didn’t set her down either, as if she weighed nothing—just a delicate bloom cradled in his arms.

The attendants waiting outside, Qiu Lin and the others, had clearly been dismissed. Beyond the window, the occasional insect chirp broke the spring night's silence, gentle and rhythmic as far-off drums.

With her still damp from bathing, he sat on the long bench by the window.

He settled her onto his lap. When she attempted to get up, he refused, wrapping her in another white towel instead.

Now no longer cold, she found herself swaddled like a cocoon, unable to move. She gave up and remained still, watching to see what he would do.

She kept her cold expression.

He said nothing, unusually silent today.

Moonlight filtered through the window, threading through the lingering mist, creating shimmering silver motes in the air.

Du Lingjing, noticing his prolonged stillness—neither speaking nor moving, simply holding her—found herself glancing at him from the corner of her eye.

Moonlight brushed his temples, highlighting the sharp bridge of his nose and the faint scars etched upon it.

His gaze remained lowered, not meeting her eyes, resting instead on her shoulder.

His normally bold eyebrows were now knit with tension.

Beneath the spellbinding moonlight, he truly did nothing—just held her for half an hour.

His unusual quiet disturbed even Du Lingjing.

Before the bathhouse cooled completely, he finally set her down.

Placing her on a nearby bamboo couch, he stood.

Moonlight glimmered on his damp brocade robe. Without turning, he murmured,

"I know you don’t wish to see me. I’ll go."

With that, he left.

Once he was gone, Qiu Lin and Ai Ye hurried back inside.

Du Lingjing was unharmed, yet her gaze drifted toward the window, following the direction he had gone.

Behind the thick window screen, she couldn’t see him—only his heavy footsteps fading into the chorus of spring night insects.

*

On the day of the Jing'an Marquis's birthday banquet, he sent over an ornate red coral hair set threaded with gold early in the morning.

Du Lingjing, already wearing a simple honey-hued jacket embroidered with orchids, chose not to wear them.

The city hummed with anticipation over the grand celebration.

Though the Jing'an Marquis came from martial nobility, his campaigns against southeastern pirates had earned him strong ties with civil officials as well. His wife’s seventy-seventh birthday was even honored by the Emperor, drawing every prominent capital figure to offer congratulations.

Du Lingjing wouldn't let pride spoil things. Besides, she had already arranged to meet Nianjia there.

But another thought occurred to her.

Commander of the Embroidered Uniform Guard, Wei Jue, would also attend the banquet.

She wasn't privy to Nianjia and Wei Jue's history.

She only wondered if they'd meet.