Chapter 63

Chapter 63

Du Lingjing was getting into the carriage, not out, so why was he still holding her hand?

This was hardly how one helped someone into a carriage. Du Lingjing glanced back at him, but he merely raised his brows with a smile, abandoned his horse, and climbed into the carriage with her.

Once inside, he still didn’t release her hand. Du Lingjing was already regretting accepting his company; she should have stuck with Chong Ping…

As soon as the carriage cleared the lane of Jing’an Marquisate, he abruptly ordered the driver to turn and head east.

Du Lingjing subtly raised an eyebrow, and he turned to her, speaking softly.

“Recently, Zhenyue Tower has been staging dances and songs in worship of the Flower Goddess—they’re quite well done. Let’s go see.”

He had mentioned taking her to Zhenyue Tower before, but she never got along with him and was unwilling to go out. Yet, when he was determined to achieve something, he’d find a way, no matter how circuitous.

The carriage skirted the imperial city and headed east, soon stopping before Zhenyue Tower.

They arrived at just the “right” moment; the instant they were seated in the private chamber on the third floor, the drums and music downstairs began to resound.

Du Lingjing shot him a look. He was clearly in high spirits—no longer wearing his previous cold expression or brooding silence—as he took a plate of tea snacks from Chong An and placed it beside her.

“Here, Quan Quan, try this. It’s Yunnan-style.”

He explained that the owner of Zhenyue Tower had invited two pastry chefs from Yunnan, “who used to work in the Mu household, so their flavors are quite different from those in the capital.”

Du Lingjing had read about it in travelogues but had never tasted it herself. Well, since she was already at Zhenyue Tower with him, there was no point in being difficult about the snacks. She picked one up, sniffed it, then took a small bite.

His eyes softened further. He asked softly,

“Is it to your liking?”

It was fragrant but not cloying, sweet but not overly rich. Du Lingjing nodded. “It would probably be even better with flower wine.”

She had only said it casually, but he smiled. “Exactly.”

No sooner had he spoken than the head manager of Zhenyue Tower personally brought in a warmed pot of flower wine.

The manager bowed repeatedly to the Marquis and his wife. Du Lingjing nodded in return, while the man, accustomed to such deference, dismissed the manager with a few words.

He turned back to her. “If you like this flower wine, I’ll have some sent home.”

He asked, but Du Lingjing neither agreed nor refused. Instead, she suddenly recalled the palace banquet earlier in the year when she’d been drinking.

By Taiye Pond, she had consumed an extra pot of bamboo-leaf wine, served by palace attendants—she had intentionally drunk more.

But when it was time to leave, he had told her to wait for him in the plum grove.

Starlight shimmered on the lake as he strode quickly across the arched bridge. The moment he caught the scent of bamboo wine on her, he frowned.

He asked why she had drunk so much bamboo wine.

Back then, he had merely been a little displeased, forbidding her from drinking it again.

But later, after she had left and he had dragged her back, she had merely glanced at the bamboo grove outside the window, and he had sternly ordered an immediate change of route.

Now, he had had everything bamboo-related in the house removed, short of tearing out the bamboo grove in the backyard itself.

Remembering this, Du Lingjing felt even less inclined to engage with him.

She sipped two cups of flower wine and watched the dances below from the railing for a while. He came over and put an arm around her.

“If you like them, we can have them perform at home.”

Du Lingjing disliked causing a fuss and ignored his words. He didn’t seem displeased by her silence. Instead, he had flower tea served, took the small wine cup from her hand, and poured her tea.

The flower tea paired even better with the snacks than the flower wine. When her father was alive, a student had gifted him several packets of homemade flower tea. Du Lingjing couldn’t remember what flowers they were, only that the fragrance lingered on her teeth and tongue long after each sip.

Du Lingjing had eaten little at the banquet, so now she ate two more tea cakes and drank a full bowl of flower tea. This time, he didn’t ask, simply ordering everything to be brought home as is.

In terms of extravagance, no one could compare to him, Du Lingjing thought to herself.

After a while, as the music and dance paused, he called to her, “Let’s go.”

It wasn’t dark yet; the sun slanted across the battlements of the distant city walls. Du Lingjing had assumed he intended to dine with her at Zhenyue Tower today, not that he would send her home so soon.

She pressed her lips together, saying nothing. He guessed her thoughts and explained softly,

“The eastern road of Chengqing Ward has been repaired. I’ve arranged for Zhenyue Tower to deliver the feast there. We’ll dine in the eastern residence today.”

Hearing this, Du Lingjing couldn’t help but turn to look at him.

Chengqing Ward was what he had reclaimed from her uncle. After taking it back, he had Grand Steward Zong personally oversee the renovation of the entire eastern section, integrating it with the original central and western parts.

At first, Du Lingjing had inquired a few times, but later, busy with Guilin Tower, she had stopped paying attention. She hadn’t expected him to have completed everything for her.

What he did for her always seemed to far exceed what she could see.

With this in mind, Du Lingjing no longer held any resentment and nodded lightly.

His gaze softened completely, the darkness in his eyes gently settling upon her. He couldn’t help but reach out to take her hand—

But Du Lingjing had anticipated it. Before his fingers could close around hers, she clasped her hands behind her back.

Beneath her sleeves, his hand closed on empty air. He paused, then chuckled softly to himself.

Before he could say anything else, Du Lingjing had already predicted it—she stepped out of the private chamber and descended the stairs ahead of him.

Behind her came his helpless sigh.

Du Lingjing thought of how he usually commanded everything, even disregarding the Empress Dowager’s words, and now felt a sense of satisfaction.

The drums and music in Zhenyue Tower’s main hall rose again, lively and rhythmic. The head manager, seeing the Marquis and his wife about to leave, hurried forward to see them off.

Du Lingjing praised Zhenyue Tower’s flower wine, tea, and pastries of the day, and the manager beamed with gratitude. Marquis Lu ordered an additional generous reward.

The implication was clear: a lavish tip!

Du Lingjing couldn’t resist glancing at him from the corner of her eye. He immediately caught her gaze—and the faint, almost imperceptible amusement in her eyes.

That red-beaked green parrot, the one that only knew how to say “lavish reward,” hadn’t visited the main courtyard since their argument…

Recognizing her silent mockery, he snorted in amusement.

Du Lingjing quickly turned away, while the manager stood baffled, unsure what riddle the Marquis and his lady were playing.

But since it didn’t seem like a bad thing, he laughed along.

For a moment, Du Lingjing nearly laughed out loud herself.

She rushed down the stairwell.

In her haste, she stepped on her own skirt.

Du Lingjing nearly lost her balance.

But instantly, a hand steadied her waist, holding her firmly.

He immediately looked down at her feet. “Did you twist your ankle?!”

His words held an odd familiarity.

Fortunately, Du Lingjing had only stepped on her own skirt and shook her head at him.

He exhaled in relief. “Did it scare you?”

Lu Shenru asked again, watching as she shook her head once more, the tassels on her hairpin swaying gently.

She hadn’t worn the red coral hairpiece he’d given her today, but the pearl set shimmered brilliantly in the dim stairwell.

The movement mirrored the glimmer in her eyes beneath her delicate brows, still faintly carrying traces of the amusement from teasing him earlier.

How long had it been since she’d last smiled at him like this?

“Quan Quan.”

He drew her close, murmuring her pet name.

The stairwell had emptied.

Distant drums and music drifted in faintly, like a light veil.

He leaned close to her face.

“Let’s reconcile.”

Du Lingjing paused.

His warmth enveloped her, his hand resting on her waist—this moment, this gesture, along with his words, suddenly reminded her of the first time she had returned to the capital and stepped into Zhenyue Tower.

That day, she had come to meet Shao Boju, only to encounter him in this very stairwell.

That moment was just like now.

He had asked if she had twisted her ankle, then immediately warned her that there were no good people here and advised her not to meet Shao Boju.

Back then, she’d been baffled. But now she knew he had already known the imperial decree would grant her to him—whether she met Shao Boju or not was irrelevant.

And Shao Boju truly was no good man. But what about him?

Their supposed first meeting, where he had steadied her waist and spoken so much to her—

Marquis Lu didn’t seem much better.

That day, after the Shao brothers left Zhenyue Tower, she’d lingered downstairs for a while, while he remained on the third floor of the western wing.

She had looked up at him from afar, never dreaming they’d be wed by imperial decree.

Yet whether then or now, no matter how much she wracked her memory, Du Lingjing couldn’t recall ever encountering his face or voice before.

He claimed it was three years ago, but he often teased her.

So when had it really been?

The drums below grew louder, pounding against their ears, echoing through the narrow stairwell.

“Quan Quan, let’s reconcile,” he murmured, gently gripping her shoulders.

But Du Lingjing’s expression cooled, and she slipped out of his embrace, leaving him on the stairs.

……

The carriage fell silent again.

The man sighed softly.

Still, since he had mentioned dining in Chengqing Ward’s eastern section, he wouldn’t back out now.

Yet she turned to Chong Ping and said, “Return to Jiqing Ward.”

Since the mistress wished to return to the marquis’s residence, Chong Ping naturally looked to the marquis for confirmation.

The man didn’t respond.

The carriage veered slightly and soon arrived at the entrance of the Du residence in Chengqing Ward.

When she didn’t move, he sighed. “Let’s eat first. Good news may come soon.”

Good news?

Du Lingjing paused before Chong Ping helped her out of the carriage.

She counted the days—it seemed the exam results would be announced in three or four days.

Commoners had to wait for the official announcement to know if they had passed, but the marquis had his ways.

Just then, Uncle Wen, hearing them arrive, came forward with his slow gait to greet her. Not wanting to slight the old steward, Du Lingjing finally stepped out.

Uncle Wen bowed to her, then addressed the man beside her. “Young master.”

Lu Shenru made a point of responding.

Du Lingjing remembered how he had long since ordered all the servants of the Du household in Chengqing Ward to address him as “young master.” Now, as they walked inside, the greeting followed them inside.

He glanced at her twice.

Du Lingjing stayed silent. Uncle Wen led them through the renovated eastern wing.

The neighboring property had originally been a three-courtyard estate, its buildings renovated less than a decade ago. He hadn’t allowed Grand Steward Zong to make major structural changes but had redesigned the gardens entirely.

The transformation was so thorough that after walking through it, Du Lingjing felt transported back to her family’s old home in Qingzhou.

Uncle Wen explained plainly. “The young master had it rebuilt to match the old Du residence in Qingzhou.”

Some of Du Lingjing’s initial “anger” faded.

The two dined together in the eastern courtyard. Soon after the meal was cleared, an aide came for him.

Lu Shenru slipped away to the front courtyard briefly. When he came back, Du Lingjing saw his smile at once.

The last rays of sunset on the city walls made the joy in his eyes spill over.

“Today truly brings good news.”

Du Lingjing couldn’t stay angry with him any longer and rose to her feet.

He announced directly, “The Du family of Qingzhou will have a new Metropolitan Graduate this year!”

“It’s Elder Brother Cang!”

As soon as Du Lingjing spoke, she saw him nod with a smile.

Once a candidate passed the Metropolitan Exam and became a *gongsheng*, the subsequent palace examination would only determine their ranking.

No one would be eliminated in the palace examination—the worst outcome was being ranked as an “associate *jinshi*,” like Du Lingjing’s uncle Du Zhiqi, while the best could place in the first tier as the Zhuangyuan, Bangyan, or Tanhua!

Since Du Jicang had passed the Metropolitan Exam, his success was now assured. After many years, the Du family of Qingzhou would finally have another *jinshi*.

If her father knew of this in the netherworld, he would surely be overjoyed.

Du Lingjing couldn’t help but clutch her chest and smile. “Has someone been sent to inform Elder Brother Cang?”

Lu Shenru said not yet, adding there was no rush. “It’s only three or four days away. No need to let people misunderstand that Brother-in-law’s success came through connections.”

In other words, that it was due to the influence of his brother-in-law, the Marquis of Lu.

Du Jicang’s academic credentials were solid—Lu Shenru hadn’t intervened in the slightest.

Du Lingjing thought it might indeed be better not to announce it yet, saying that Du Jicang had been staying at the Returning-to-the-Forest Tower and wasn’t in the capital at the moment.

Soon, her thoughts turned to another candidate at the Returning-to-the-Forest Tower.

“Did Feng Xiang pass?”

She asked, only to see the man frown immediately.

“Do you really think someone like him, who doesn’t devote himself wholeheartedly to the examinations, could possibly succeed?”

Du Lingjing: “…”

So Feng Xiang had failed.

She glanced at him. As the sunset faded, his eyes darkened once more.

She mused that failing was failing—there was no need for him to speak ill of Feng Xiang. It was just his usual dislike of the man.

Fortunately, Feng Xiang truly had no ambition in this regard. He would likely be disappointed for only an afternoon before bouncing back cheerfully the next day.

Du Lingjing didn’t mention Feng Xiang again but suddenly thought of someone else.

“What about Liulang…?”

As soon as she uttered these three words, she saw the man fall silent.

Unlike his obvious displeasure when Feng Xiang was mentioned, his expression now turned cold and somber at the mention of Jiang Fengchuan.

He looked at her quietly.

“Can you stop concerning yourself with the Jiang family’s affairs?”

His voice was very low.

Du Lingjing had only asked out of curiosity.

Hadn’t Sanlang been most concerned about Liulang’s imperial examinations before his death?

She pressed her lips together, but the man before her spoke again.

“He’s not decent.”

This made Du Lingjing frown.

It was simply because Liulang had revealed everything he had kept hidden from him.

She knew she'd get no answers from him regarding Jiang Fengchuan or the Jiang family—his attitude toward them had long since changed.

The sunset glow vanished below the city walls, leaving the three sections of the Du residence in Chengqing Ward, now uninhabited, in complete stillness.

For a moment, neither spoke. It was Uncle Wen who came to light the lamps in the courtyard.

The man glanced at his wife and was the first to soften his tone.

“Is there anything else in the courtyard that needs to be repaired or added?”

The place already closely resembled the Du ancestral home in Qingzhou—except for one thing missing.

A stand of slender green bamboo was absent from the corner.

Du Lingjing’s gaze drifted to the corner, and his followed.

He knew full well that bamboo was missing there.

He had clouded over at the mere mention of Liulang—who knew how he would react if she pointed out the missing bamboo now?

Was he really so bothered? Bothered by any person or thing related to Sanlang appearing before her?

Then why had he previously endured it with patience, even playing the magnanimous role? Why had he even held memorial rites for Sanlang?

Du Lingjing couldn’t understand him.

He said, “Seems there’s nothing more to change. Let’s go home.”

Du Lingjing left in silence.

As for Lu Shenru, his gaze swept over the bare corner before he departed with his expression darkened, lips pressed tight.

*

That evening, Du Lingjing had lost all interest. After leafing halfheartedly through a book, she had Qiu Lin take down her hair and prepared to rest.

The man returned from tending to business in the outer compound. Only the maids paid their respects—she sat at the dressing table, gave him one glance before looking away.

Things had been fine earlier. But the moment the name “Jiang” was mentioned, she had turned cold toward him.

A maid brought tea. Lu Shenru took a few sips, changed his clothes, and came out to find both maids gathered at the dressing table.

“Madam’s ornamental pin is caught—and so hopelessly tangled…”

As Qiu Lin and Ai Ye worked to untangle it, he saw her flinch in pain in the polished bronze mirror.

He stepped closer. “Why not just cut it free?”

Qiu Lin answered, “I’m just afraid of hurting Madam’s hair.”

In our tradition, the body, hair, and skin are sacred gifts from one’s parents.

Yet Du Lingjing was ready to grit her teeth and yank it free.

But as soon as she reached out, her hand was stopped.

“Hold still.”

Du Lingjing was halted by him as he stepped forward completely, his fingers pressing against the tangled floral hairpin in her hair.

With a sharp twist, the hairpin broke clean in two.

He plucked out the pieces and tossed them aside.

“Did that hurt?”

Du Lingjing shook her head.

His grip loosened a little.

“Skip this set next time. Wear the red coral one instead.”

Du Lingjing gave no reply.

After washing up, they retired to bed.

Du Lingjing couldn't help but recall the events at Jing'an Marquis's residence earlier that day.

NianJia had seemed down earlier, and now she wondered if she had recovered somewhat.

She’d implied she was to blame, her words heavy with meaning, and mentioned visiting the marquis's residence another day—perhaps to discuss past matters with Wei Jue.

Du Lingjing lay there, mulling over NianJia, as the man also extinguished the candle and entered the bed curtains.

She expected tonight to play out like always and turned to sleep, only to have her hand suddenly grasped beneath the brocade quilt.

She tried to pull away but failed, and in the next moment, he abruptly pulled her into his embrace. His arms locked around her like iron, his burning chest crushed against her as he suddenly pinned her down…

He knew her body too well. In seconds, the gauze curtains trembled as the bed shuddered violently.

Du Lingjing had no control at all. After weeks without him—and without the numbing fog of incense—she couldn’t take it, her hips quivering.

But he held her hips firm, forcing her to take all of him.

The carved bed enclosed them—no wind, no moonlight—yet heat and dampness rose between the curtains.

Surrounded by his intermingled breaths, he had already touched her most tender spot, soaking her like rain in the silken sheets.

Rain also fell in her eyes as he lowered his head to kiss beneath them.

Enraged, she shoved at him with everything she had, but she couldn't break free. Instead, in the depths of their union, the flower wine of Zhenyue Tower spilled between them.

She dissolved into liquid heat.

But he still hadn't stopped, relentlessly pushing her ruthlessly toward the edge. Du Lingjing struck his shoulder hard, yet he only pushed her further to the peak until she was soaked through and spent.

Only then did he gently cradle her in his arms.

The gauzy curtains draped over her pale, soft feet as he pulled her closer against his chest, his voice rough as he whispered “Quan Quan” before tilting his head to kiss her lips.

But Du Lingjing pressed her lips tight and turned her face aside.

His mouth found the curve below her ear.