Chapter 30: Betrothal Gifts

Chapter 30: The Betrothal

The main hall was hushed, a thin wisp of smoke curling from an incense burner, carrying a faint, elusive scent of sandalwood.

Qiao Wan sat in the seat of honor, propping her chin with one hand, her fingers idly tapping her cheek as she watched Jing Lan, who was sprawled languidly across from her.

Jing Lan, unperturbed, allowed her scrutiny. He unceremoniously poured himself a cup of hot tea and took a few sips.

"You want to marry me?" After a long silence, Qiao Wan broke the quiet, her voice a low murmur.

Jing Lan’s hand, holding the teacup, paused. He lowered his gaze, avoiding her eyes, and cleared his throat. "I just thought what you said that day made a lot of sense."

Qiao Wan mused for a moment. Indeed, agreeing to the marriage now would not only thwart Qiao Heng’s intentions but also make it much easier to break the engagement later if needed.

Yet, recalling his earlier words about "not treating marriage lightly," Qiao Wan fell silent for a moment before asking, "Are you in love with me?"

"Cough, cough, cough…" Jing Lan choked on his tea, the cup in his hand shaking violently. Hot tea splashed onto his robes. He scrambled to his feet, turning to glare at Qiao Wan. "What nonsense are you spouting? How could I be in love with you…"

His voice trailed off, the initial indignation fading into confusion by the end.

Seeing his expression, as if he had been "defiled," Qiao Wan felt a slight sense of amusement. She cast him a sidelong glance. "Why are you so worked up?"

"When was I worked up? Which eye of yours saw me worked up?" Jing Lan retorted almost immediately. Only after speaking did he realize his overly agitated tone and sat back down sheepishly. "This is just how I am."

Qiao Wan pursed her lips noncommittally. After a long while, she spoke, "My reputation isn’t exactly stellar. I’m known as vain, spoiled, and willful. Not to mention places like the Songzhu Pavilion, I’ve even frequented brothels in the past. There isn’t a luxury shop that doesn’t know me. Those people may address me respectfully as Princess Changle to my face, but behind my back, it’s common to hear them say I ‘lack propriety and shame'..."

Jing Lan frowned deeply as he listened to her speak so indifferently.

After finishing, Qiao Wan turned to look at him. "Well?"

Jing Lan gazed at her calmly. "What a coincidence. My reputation isn’t great either."

Qiao Wan fell silent for a moment before nodding in agreement. "Indeed, a frivolous and dissolute rogue."

Jing Lan called out her name slowly, word by word, "Qiao. Wan!"

But Qiao Wan clapped her hands and laughed. "Alright then."

Jing Lan was slightly puzzled by her sudden change. "What?"

Qiao Wan stood up, lifting her chin to look at him. "Tomorrow, my father summons me to the palace."

Jing Lan was taken aback. "You mean..."

Qiao Wan said, "We’ll get engaged."

Even though it was destined to be a marriage that wouldn’t last long.

*

Qiao Heng’s men came to fetch her the next day in the early afternoon.

Leaning against the carriage, Qiao Wan pondered the upcoming palace coup and what she would say later. Before she knew it, they had arrived at the palace gates.

Unexpectedly, she ran into Jing Lan there.

He had likely just left the palace, still wearing a crimson round-collared official robe and a neatly fitted black gauze cap. When he saw her, he unusually refrained from speaking much, merely pausing and stepping aside.

Though Qiao Wan wondered why Jing Lan was there, the presence of palace attendants prevented her from saying anything. She entered the palace directly.

When she reached Linhua Hall, Qiao Heng was already waiting inside. The sandalwood incense, usually used to calm the mind, was stronger than ever, but despite this, Qiao Heng’s expression was visibly irritable.

Qiao Wan knew that Qiao Heng had probably sensed the recent unrest in Lingjing and was growing anxious.

She walked forward and said cheerfully, "Father."

Seeing her, Qiao Heng forced himself to calm down. "You’re here."

Qiao Wan nodded and approached curiously. "Who would dare upset you so, Father?"

Qiao Heng glanced at her but didn’t answer. After a pause, he asked solemnly, "Did Zhao Yang visit your residence yesterday?"

Qiao Wan’s heart sank. Sure enough, her residence was filled with Qiao Heng’s spies.

She pouted unhappily. "Third Sister said she came to check on my health. I don’t know what came over her—she’s never been this caring before..."

Qiao Heng narrowed his eyes and studied her for a moment before suddenly laughing. "She was worried about you, just like I am."

He then glanced at Sun Lianhai.

Qiao Wan took the pill from Sun Lianhai and swallowed it without hesitation before saying, "Father, Wan Wan has something else to discuss..."

"Your marriage to that Jing boy?" Qiao Heng brought it up, clearly in a better mood, his expression relaxing slightly.

Qiao Wan feigned surprise. "You know about it, Father?"

"That boy came to see me right after court. He said it shouldn’t be you who brings it up first," Qiao Heng rubbed his temples and smiled. "But I also told him that if he wants to marry a princess, the betrothal gifts must be substantial."

Qiao Wan was taken aback. The engagement with Jing Lan was merely a temporary measure, but she hadn’t expected Qiao Heng to be in such a hurry.

Sun Lianhai presented a booklet to Qiao Wan. She glanced at Qiao Heng before opening it.

Five hundred bolts of silk.

Five hundred thousand coins.

A thousand fine horses.

Countless gold, silk, and jewelry...

Looking at the already prepared booklet, Qiao Wan realized that even if she hadn’t agreed today, Qiao Heng would have forced her to consent.

Given the delicate situation in Lingjing, Qiao Heng’s harsh conditions were undoubtedly aimed at securing the Jing family’s military tally.

"Wan Wan," Qiao Heng said, watching her silent reaction, mixing authority with kindness, "In the coming days, the Jing family will deliver the betrothal gifts to your residence. I will then issue an edict announcing your engagement to that Jing boy and grant you a grand ceremony."

In the coming days...

He was truly in a hurry.

Qiao Wan inwardly scoffed but replied brightly, "Thank you, Father."

Qiao Heng waved his hand wearily, and Sun Lianhai stepped forward attentively.

Qiao Wan left Linhua Hall with the booklet. Perhaps freed from the overpowering sandalwood scent, she felt somewhat relieved. But as she walked along the palace path, a cool breeze swept by, and a searing, unbearable pain surged through her chest.

Qiao Wan quickly leaned against the palace wall for support. A warm, itchy sensation rose in her throat, and she let out a low, muffled cough.

A hand gently patted her back. Assuming it was Yicui who had followed her, Qiao Wan said hoarsely, "I’m fine, Yicui."

The hand patting her back paused briefly before resuming its rhythm.

Qiao Wan wiped her mouth, turned, and smiled, "Yicui, when we return to the mansion, we—"

Her words trailed off as she blinked, staring at Jing Lan in his official robes behind her. After a moment, she said, "It's you?"

Jing Lan smiled. "It's me."

Her expression grew complex. "You just now—"

Jing Lan raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Hmm?"

Qiao Wan pursed her lips and didn't continue. Instead, she asked, "Why are you still here?"

Jing Lan's gaze swept over her pale face before he grinned carelessly. "Of course I was worried you'd back out at the last minute and make me lose face."

This man really didn't have many pleasant things to say.

Qiao Wan glared at him and handed him the ledger in her hand. "Have you seen all this?"

Jing Lan flipped through it casually. "Yes."

Qiao Wan reassured him. "Don't worry, just pick some inexpensive items to send to the Princess's estate. It won’t cost too much. Once—"

"Qiao Wan!" Jing Lan interrupted her suddenly, his expression darkening as he let out a frustrated laugh. "Do you think I can’t afford this?"

Qiao Wan considered that the Jing family was, after all, a generations-old prestigious family, and after a moment’s thought, she said, "I just don’t think it’s worth it."

Jing Lan became even more annoyed, pacing back and forth in front of her before finally calming down. Glancing around, he said, "Qiao Wan, do you know why my father is so determined to hold onto the military token?"

Qiao Wan paused, surprised.

"The Emperor is suspicious. Even if my father remains utterly loyal, he can’t escape suspicion. If he were to hand over the military token recklessly, the entire Jing family would be left vulnerable and face disaster. My father is already weary of the political turmoil. He wants me to marry you, to form a marriage alliance with the emperor, dispel His Majesty’s doubts, and then surrender the military token. After that, he plans to find an excuse to leave Lingjing and retire peacefully."

Qiao Wan looked at him. "So, you agreed to the marriage proposal?"

Jing Lan hesitated briefly before replying, "If I had agreed to the marriage solely for this reason, I wouldn’t have said those words to you back at Yuxiu Pavilion." He lowered his gaze, his eyes locked with hers. "Qiao Wan, do you want to leave Lingjing?"

In that moment, Qiao Wan felt as if everything around her had gone quiet. The wind in her ears faded away, leaving only stillness.

She had always regarded this marriage as nothing more than a shield to evade Qiao Heng’s suspicions, something dispensable. But now, for the first time, she was giving it serious thought.

Leaving Lingjing.

Once they were gone, the world would be wide open and free. She would no longer have to worry about dying any day, no longer fear being used or hated...

She was, truthfully, terrified of loneliness.

Once, she thought she had found someone who would never let her feel lonely.

After all, he was so gentle, so tender that she sank deeper and deeper.

But in the end, it was all just being used.

And yet...

"Why?" Qiao Wan murmured.

She remembered the obvious reluctance in Jing Lan’s eyes when he had mentioned the arranged marriage before. Why did he want to take her away now?

Jing Lan’s expression shifted, and then he snapped, "Probably because you’re foolish."

Qiao Wan blinked, finally snapping out of her daze. "Hey!"

Jing Lan looked at her and suddenly laughed. "Qiao Wan, you should be counting your blessings."

*

Outskirts of Lingjing, outside the North City Gate.

Si Li walked quietly toward the central tent, sighing inwardly.

It seemed that ever since returning from Lingjing that day, the young master had become much quieter, surrounded by an icy aura that kept everyone at a distance.

Someone had once expressed dissatisfaction with the young master’s unauthorized entry into Lingjing. The young master had merely engaged in a duel with that person and calmly broke their neck.

The tent was now within sight. Si Li took a deep breath and called out softly, "Young Master."

At that moment, Mu Chi stood expressionlessly by the tent window, his jet-black hair unbound and flowing loosely down his back. He didn’t move at the sound.

Si Li, accustomed to this, bowed his head and continued, "The troops have been traveling nonstop and are now resting. There is no more dissent within the army. Minister Wen has sent word, inviting you to discuss matters. The meeting is set for three days from now at Wenxin Pavilion."

Mu Chi remained by the window, only occasionally stirring as the night breeze slipped through, gently tousling his hair and his snow-white robes.

Si Li knew the young master had heard him. After hesitating for a moment, he added, "I’ve heard a rumor about Princess Changle—"

"Si Li," Mu Chi finally spoke, his tone cool as he cut him off, "from now on, there’s no need to report irrelevant matters."

A chill ran down Si Li’s spine at the cold tone, and he hurriedly replied, "Yes."

With that, he carefully retreated.

The tent fell into utter silence in the blink of an eye.

After a long while, Mu Chi slowly turned around. His ink-black hair cascaded down his back, and his dark pupils were like pools of dark ink, exuding a lifeless chill. The night breeze picked up, brushing against his pale, exquisite face—a vision of stunning beauty.

As he gazed at the fires outside, he suddenly remembered the handkerchief he had misplaced somewhere—the one Qiao Wan had given him, embroidered with the character "Ni."

She had freely offered to arrange a meeting between him and Qiao Qingni.

Nothing like the willful princess who would get jealous simply because he attracted the attention of other women when they walked together.

His heart suddenly clenched.

Mu Chi pressed a hand to his chest. So, this was how she had felt when he pushed her toward Jing Lan.

But he despised this feeling.

Ever since that day on Yanming Mountain, he had to use all his restraint to keep from looking at her;

Later, he sent a carrier pigeon to Si Li, instructing him to prepare a mansion in Chuzhou identical to the Princess’s residence, complete with luxurious furnishings;

And then, inexplicably, he charged into Lingjing, all for the sake of that earlier promise to "fly a kite together"...

Each of these incidents, disrupting his plans one after another, left him feeling strangely unfamiliar and unsettled, and... intensely resistant.

So, perhaps it was better to reset everything to how it was before, as if none of it ever happened.

From now on, there would be no further entanglement with Qiao Wan.

Three days later, on the eighteenth.

Mu Chi went to Wenxin Pavilion to keep the appointment. Accompanying Wen Xun was his student, the Seventh Prince Qiao Yan—also Qiao Qingni’s full brother.

Wen Xun had invited him today to discuss the matter of the military token currently held by the Jing family.

He spoke indirectly, only mentioning that Qiao Heng already had a plan to retrieve the military token from the Jing family.

But Qiao Yan, who was standing nearby, snorted: "Why beat around the bush, Teacher? It's nothing more than marrying a princess down in exchange for the military token. Wasn't my elder sister betrothed in the same way? I heard that these past few days, the Jing family has already brought the betrothal gifts. Let them have their fun for now. By the end of the month..."

Qiao Yan's words trailed off as he noticed Wen Xun shooting him a look. He looked at Mu Chi in confusion, then went still.

Mu Chi's expression was unreadable; he even had a faint smile at the corner of his lips, yet it was precisely this that unnerved everyone.

Hearing Qiao Yan go quiet, Mu Chi tilted his head and asked with a smile, "Why has the Seventh Prince stopped speaking?"

Qiao Yan's heart trembled, thinking that mentioning his elder sister's political marriage had displeased Mu Chi. After a moment, he managed to say, "No need to worry, Master Mu. If this matter succeeds, there will surely be leeway regarding my elder sister's marriage alliance."

Mu Chi nodded with a gentle smile. "In that case, I thank the Seventh Prince." As he spoke, he turned his smiling gaze to Wen Xun. "Minister Wen, just say it straight about this matter without hiding it. Which princess is Qiao Heng marrying off in exchange for the military token?"

Wen Xun's fingers trembled slightly. He hurriedly clasped his hands and lowered his gaze. A court veteran, even if he couldn't discern any particular significance in Mu Chi's attitude toward Princess Changle, he still had a bad feeling. That was why, when mentioning the Jing family's military token, he had purposely left out Qiao Heng's decision to arrange the marriage.

But now that Mu Chi had asked directly, Wen Xun couldn’t keep it hidden any longer: "It is Princess Changle."

Mu Chi's lashes flickered almost imperceptibly, but the smile at his lips remained unchanged. After a long moment, he said calmly, "So it's Princess Changle."

As he spoke, he took a drink of the clear wine from his cup.

Seeing this, Qiao Yan breathed easier and exchanged a glance with Wen Xun: "I said so—Master Mu, who was willing to take an arrow for my elder sister at Yanming Mountain, how could such a small thing disrupt our plans now?"

Wen Xun managed a weak smile, though an uneasy feeling lingered in his heart.

For the remainder of the time, Mu Chi remained calm and gentle, without a hint of anything wrong. Even after the discussion concluded, he showed no sign of distress.

Mu Chi did not stay long at the Questioning Heart Pavilion and left shortly after the discussion.

Si Li hurried forward to greet him, but before he could speak, he saw his master walk right past him without a word.

Instead of boarding the carriage, Mu Chi walked quietly alone through the streets, occasionally hearing people exclaiming.

"Did you see the scene when the Jing family brought the betrothal gifts to the princess's residence?"

"Of course! Miles of red bridal gifts, hundreds of boxes of betrothal gifts—they filled the whole street…"

"I heard about it too. They say the courtyard of the vast princess's residence was overflowing."

"Was it really that much?"

"Absolutely! The Jing family only has this one son, and that's the emperor's most beloved Princess Changle. The two are well-matched…"

Miles of red bridal gifts, hundreds of boxes of betrothal gifts.

A perfect match.

Mu Chi listened to such conversations echoing around him, a faint smile still playing on his lips, until someone said, "I also heard that in a few days, the emperor will announce it to the whole kingdom…"

Mu Chi's footsteps halted, and the smile on his lips faded slightly.

He recalled the words Si Li had hesitated to speak the other day—most likely about the Jing family having already brought the betrothal gifts to the princess's residence.

But it was none of his concern anymore.

Mu Chi continued walking forward calmly.

Not far away, a young man quickly embraced a woman beside him in a secluded corner. The woman blushed and complained, "In broad daylight, how can you be so bold? Aren't you afraid others will see!"

The man laughed tenderly. "You are my properly wedded wife. What can others say if I hold you?"

A young child nearby held one hand of a woman and tugged at the man with the other: "Father, Mother, Shen'er was praised by the teacher today…"

The man smiled. "Shen'er is clever. Father will surely reward you when we return home!"

The woman said gently, "Mother will make braised pork for Shen'er!"

"Hooray!"

An elderly couple, holding hands, made their way home with a vegetable basket.

Mu Chi watched expressionlessly as he walked. When he looked again, the faces of those women gradually transformed into Qiao Wan's.

She would marry Jing Lan and become his properly wedded wife.

She would steal moments with Jing Lan in unnoticed corners, embracing him secretly, her cheeks flushed with shyness.

She would also bear a child—a child who resembled both her and Jing Lan.

They would walk through life together, and in her long life, there would never again be any trace of him.

Mu Chi's footsteps came to a stop at some point. After a long while, he began breathing heavily.

Something in his chest grew increasingly turbulent—the more he suppressed it, the more it boiled…

It burned his heart, an ache that was both pain and itch.

Mu Chi suddenly flared with anger.

He had already decided to entangle himself with her no longer—why did her name keep coming up in his ears!

Author's Note:

Jing Lan: Thanks to my love rival for fantasizing about my life with my future bride.