Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Jiang Heng lowered her gaze, no longer looking at Yan Hui, and also avoiding Gu Yu who stood behind him.

Her eyes had already reddened, brimming with tears. Now, as she lowered her gaze, the tears could no longer be contained and rolled down her cheeks.

Yan Hui shifted slightly, when a cold breeze brushed past him—it was Gu Yu striding over.

"How should this matter be settled, Duke Liang?"

Gu Yu stood beside Jiang Heng. He made no move to wipe away her tears but simply stood by her side, much like how Duke Liang stood beside Li Daorou—hands clasped behind his back, his expression resolute, like a towering tree one could rely on with confidence, far more upright, dignified, and imposing than Duke Liang.

Seeing Gu Yu's stance, Duke Liang knew he was determined to seek justice for his wife. Aware that Gu Yu would be even more difficult to deal with once serious, he chuckled dismissively and said, "What's there to settle? It was just a joke among the women. There's no point in us getting involved."

A cold smile curled Gu Yu's lips, his expression growing even more stern. "Pointless? It seemed to me you were quite involved just now."

Duke Liang chuckled with nervous awkwardness and tried to slip away: "You all chat; I have matters to attend to. I should be going now."

"Stop." Gu Yu's gaze was cold and piercing as he looked at Duke Liang and his wife, with no intention of letting them go.

"Duke Liang, since you indulge your wife so freely, you must know well how to bow, lower your head, and apologize."

Hearing this, Li Daorou shouted, "Don't you push us too far! How dare you demand my husband bow and apologize to her!"

Duke Liang was also irritated: "Gu Chengzhou, must you keep this up? Must you make a spectacle of us in front of the envoy?"

As he spoke, he glanced at Yan Hui standing nearby, then looked back at Gu Yu with an expression that suggested family matters shouldn't be aired in public.

Gu Yu paid no heed to this. "Since Duke Liang does not know how to discipline his wife, allowing her to spread rumors and cause trouble, I assume you aren’t afraid of being laughed at."

"Who are you accusing of spreading rumors and causing trouble!" Li Daorou fumed, pointing at Gu Yu’s nose and cursing, but Duke Liang restrained her.

"Alright, alright, it’s only just an apology. Let's just apologize and be done with it!" Duke Liang knew Gu Yu’s temperament well—aware that he was a relentless man who would not stop until he achieved his goal. Worried that further entanglement might provoke his wife into doing something even more indefensible, he raised his sleeve, slightly cupped his hands toward Jiang Heng, and said loudly, "We were rude earlier. Madame Jiang, please do not take offense!"

"Don’t you apologize to her!" Li Daorou was both angry and heartbroken, tugging at Duke Liang’s sleeve to stop him.

"Enough, enough, stop making a scene. Let’s go quickly!" After apologizing, Duke Liang grabbed his wife’s hand and practically dragged her away as if fleeing.

Only then did Gu Yu turn back to look at Jiang Heng. She remained with her gaze lowered, the tear tracks on her cheeks had already dried, her expression still quiet and lonely, likely still feeling wronged.

"Return to your room. I still have matters to attend to," Gu Yu said softly.

Jiang Heng responded with a soft 'mm' and stood still for a moment before she began walking in Yan Hui’s direction.

She could return to her chamber from either direction, but she wanted to go this way.

As she passed by Yan Hui, she did not stop or look up at him, merely walking slowly past. Only after turning the corner and vanishing from Gu Yu’s view did she halt and look back.

But Yan Hui was gazing toward the main hall, not meeting her eyes. After standing for a moment, he turned and left.

Jiang Heng also turned back and continued walking.

Lost in thought, she walked absentmindedly until she reached an ancient locust tree.

The tree was so thick it took outstretched arms to encircle it, said to be over a hundred years old and known for granting wishes. Jiang Heng had donated generously to reserve the tree, shielding it from the mundane disturbances of greed and obsession, ensuring that this ancient locust could hear only her prayers.

Over three years, the prayer plaques tied with red threads had densely covered every branch she could reach.

After all, Yan Hui had not died…

But why was he wearing a mask? Why cover one eye?

And why had he come to the capital?

Why was he with Gu Yu?

How had he been these past few years? Had his injuries healed completely? Were there any lasting ailments?

Had he… married and had children?

Why hadn’t he sent her any word, not letting her know earlier that he was still alive? Was he still blaming her?

Standing under the tree, Jiang Heng couldn’t control her thoughts, her mind racing in all directions.

Could she dare she go see him? She wanted to see him; there were so many questions she wanted to ask.

She knew she shouldn’t do this, shouldn’t think this way—she was still Gu Yu’s wife. But she had no control over her feelings.

"What are you doing here?"

Gu Yu’s voice sounded beside her ear, carrying its usual cool clarity, like a basin of cold water doused over her head. Jiang Heng shuddered involuntarily, her thoughts snapping back to the present. Instinctively, she hid her hands behind her back, concealing the prayer plaque she had unintentionally taken from the tree.

Gu Yu glanced at her, then grabbed her wrist, and took what she was concealing.

It was an arm used to wielding long swords, full of strength. Even if Jiang Heng used all her might, against this arm, she was as feeble as an ant.

The man effortlessly took the object from the woman’s hand and looked at it—it was an ordinary prayer plaque inscribed with four simple characters: Junzi An He (May the gentleman be safe and harmonious).

He casually glanced at a few prayer plaques hanging on the branches—all bore the same message.

"Why hide it?"

Gu Yu didn’t understand—what was there to hide? Moreover, from her reaction earlier, she seemed startled upon seeing him, as if she held great wariness toward him.

Jiang Heng lowered her head silently. After a moment, recalling that the man always sought thorough explanations and demanded answers, she finally said, "I wasn’t hiding it."

Gu Yu examined the plaque again—there was nothing suspicious about it. Likely, the woman’s actions were just a subconscious defensive reaction upon being startled, with no intent to conceal. Thus, he didn't press the matter. Turning his gaze to the tree full of prayer plaques, he asked, "Do you often come here?"

Earlier, when he went to her chamber and didn’t find her, the abbot mentioned she might be here. The abbot said that while he was away at war, she often came here to worship, copy scriptures, and pray, very devoutly.

The entire tree was filled with her prayer plaques: "Junzi An He."

Gu Yu looked at the tree full of "Junzi An He," and a faint smile softened his typically stern expression.

He turned to look at the woman. She kept her gaze lowered, neither answering his question nor admitting or denying anything.

She was always like this: gentle, quiet, and sparing with words.

But she would argue logically and confidently when Duchess of Liang used those rumors to slander him.

She would copy scriptures and pray for his health and safety when he led military campaigns.

She even secretly obtained a pendant symbolizing longevity with him, without his knowledge.

She was just an ordinary woman—it was only natural for her to feel jealous toward the other concubines. Her reluctance to admit it was probably due to fear of his reprimand and cold treatment.

As for He Ji’s death, it must have been an accident, not intentional.

The monastic novice at the temple mentioned that since she came to the temple, she had been praying before the Buddha every day, likely seeking atonement.

Let this matter be over. He would not pursue it further.

"Let's eat."

Gu Yu walked a few steps ahead, then glanced back to find the young woman had fallen far behind. He stopped and stood waiting. Though he did not urge her aloud, his unwavering gaze made it clear that he expected her to hurry.

Jiang Heng's mind was in turmoil, and she had no desire to walk alongside him.

"My Lord, why don’t you go to the dining hall first? I’m not very hungry."

The man continued to watch her, ignoring her words, stubbornly waiting in place.

Jiang Heng understood then that he would not allow it. He had always been this way—doing whatever he wished, regardless of others' feelings. If he wanted to eat with her now, she had to comply; even if she did not eat, she still had to sit there with him.

The temple meals were simple and bland, likely not to Gu Yu’s taste. Instead of going to the dining hall, he took her to a small eatery in the city and ordered a rather lavish spread of dishes.

He seemed to be in high spirits and had a good appetite, even going so far as to serve her a bite of food—something he had never done before. Jiang Heng thought perhaps this was an opportunity to inquire about Yan Hui.

She ate the food he had served her and, in return, served him a bite. Casually, as if making small talk, she asked, "That gentleman—is he Prince Zhennan’s envoy?"

The Duke of Liang had said Yan Hui was an envoy, and she had heard that Prince Zhennan’s envoy would be arriving in the capital around this time.

Gu Yu paused his chopsticks, glanced at her, then continued eating. After a moment, he replied with a noncommittal "Hmm," as if to acknowledge her question.

But Jiang Heng knew that Gu Yu’s response was his way of telling her not to ask further. He never discussed court affairs with her, and even matters concerning her elder sister were rarely brought up.

Yet Jiang Heng was too eager to know, too desperate to find out sooner. So she pretended to forget this unspoken rule of his, adding more food to his bowl as she asked again, "Why is he wearing a mask?"

As expected, the man frowned and looked up, his gaze heavy as he stared at her.

Jiang Heng had already prepared an excuse. While adding more food to his bowl, she said in a tone of apology, "I was just curious. I’ve never seen an envoy wear a mask—isn’t he afraid of being mistaken for someone else?"

Gu Yu lowered his eyes, glanced at the full bowl of food before him, and replied indifferently, "He is blind in one eye. The mask is to hide the deformity."

No sooner had he spoken than there was a clang—Jiang Heng’s bowl had somehow fallen to the ground and shattered.

She immediately turned and called out, "Shopkeeper, another bowl, please."

Only after the shopkeeper brought a new bowl did Jiang Heng turn back, quietly bowing her head and eating without asking another question.

Feeling his probing gaze fixed on the top of her head, she lowered her eyes even further, struggling to conceal the emotions in them. Softly, she said, "Husband, it was my fault that the bowl broke. Please don’t be angry."

Gu Yu was taken aback. Was he the kind of person who would get angry over a broken bowl?

He had been watching her because she was not herself.

But he couldn’t pinpoint what exactly was wrong.

After the meal, Gu Yu saw her back to the Guanyin Temple and even stayed overnight in her room.

Jiang Heng transcribed sutras late into the night, while the man sat on the daybed, reading until late.

Finally, as midnight approached, the man’s patience ran out. He stood up, took her brush, tossed it onto the desk, swept her up into his arms, and laid her down on the daybed. He pressed down on her, his rough, calloused hand pulling open her collar.

"Husband, husband, this is holy ground!" Jiang Heng clutched tightly at her already torn collar.

She did not want to, and could not possibly, do this here with him.

Behind the room stood the pomegranate tree she and Yan Hui had planted together. This very room was once where Yan Hui studied and rested. They had read together here, practiced writing characters, fed the cats, and blended incense...

In short, she could not be intimate as husband and wife with Gu Yu here...

But Gu Yu would never listen to her. He always did as he pleased.

Her clothes were torn further, the rough calluses on his hands pressing against her waist, making it hurt.

"Husband, I’m uncomfortable. I don’t want to..."

She gripped his wrist, pleading, her eyelashes fluttering as tears spilled down her face.

Gu Yu frowned and finally halted his actions.

She’d cried more today than usual.

In the past, at the estate, he had never seen her shed tears—not even when she was ill and reprimanded by his mother. Yet today, she had already cried twice: once in the morning, when she was bullied and could no longer hold back her grievances upon seeing him, and now, for what reason?

Could it truly be because this was a sacred Buddhist site?

Was she really that devout?