Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Jiang Heng’s face was already streaked with tears, yet she curved her lips into a smile as she gazed at Yan Hui.

Fortunately, fortunately—he wasn’t blind in one eye as Gu Yu had claimed. He was safe and sound, just as she had prayed for before the Buddha—healthy, peaceful, standing right before her.

“A-Jiu,” Jiang Heng couldn’t hold back; she reached out a hand, wanting to touch him. She was so afraid this was nothing but an illusion.

Yan Hui took a step forward, letting her grasp him.

“A-Jiu, I came too late.” He took the young lady’s hand and gazed deeply into her eyes.

Jiang Heng’s tears flowed uncontrollably.

He really had come too late.

He could have married her earlier, yet he insisted on waiting and delaying—waiting to earn meritorious rank, to establish himself, waiting for her parents to willingly betroth her to him…

“A-Xiong, in our next life, marry me sooner, alright? Don’t let me marry the wrong man.”

In the darkness, Gu Yu’s eyes burned crimson as he watched his wife clutching another man’s hand, tears streaming down her face, speaking of how much she regretted marrying him.

“Men!” the man roared, his voice like thunder splitting the deep night. “Prince Zhennan’s envoy attempts a prison break! Kill him on the spot!”

Jiang Heng and Yan Hui both turned to look. At his command, two squads of soldiers charged in, blades drawn.

“You’re lying! He did no such thing!”

Jiang Heng never expected Gu Yu would make such a deadly accusation. Yan Hui had already died once because of her; she absolutely could not watch him die a second time!

“Put your blade away!” Jiang Heng gripped Yan Hui’s hand, which was reaching for his sword, and pleaded with him.

He must not draw his sword. If a fight broke out, he would be outnumbered and surely slaughtered by Gu Yu. As long as he didn’t draw his sword, Gu Yu could not falsely accuse him of breaking out of prison.

Yan Hui tightened his grip on the hilt, his gaze intense as he glared at Gu Yu. “Duke Wei, if you wish to kill me, at least find a justifiable reason.”

“Duke Wei, you accuse him of breaking out of prison—do you have any proof?” Jiang Heng stood beside Yan Hui, facing Gu Yu, her voice loud and demanding.

Gu Yu’s eyes were like frosted blades, fixed directly on the young lady.

She dared speak to him like this—dared to protect another man so coldly and righteously, questioning him.

Did she truly think she was some kind of Madam Guiyi?

Had she truly forgotten whose wife she was?

He had long told her that Prince Zhennan’s envoy would come to the prison to see her, and even taught her how to respond. She had been calm and quiet, showing no reaction—yet it turned out she knew Prince Zhennan’s envoy. Not only did she know him, but she had once… wanted to marry him!

She had hidden it from him, even used his own hands to openly meet her past romantic interest!

How had he failed to see earlier that she possessed such cleverness, such boldness!

“Why are you standing there? Kill Prince Zhennan’s envoy!” Gu Yu’s voice was low, like rumbling thunder rolling in the clouds, ready to strike at any moment.

Behind him, the soldiers, at the ready, raised their blades once more. Yan Hui also prepared to draw his sword.

“You are presumptuous!” Jiang Heng frowned, gripping the prison bars tightly, struggling to suppress the tremors of fear. She met Gu Yu’s eyes head-on, confronting the piercing authority and anger radiating from him. “I am Madam Guiyi, appointed by the Emperor. If I say he did not break out of prison, then he did not!”

She bit her lip, her slender fingers tightening further on the bars, her voice thin yet determined. “Today, whoever dares to harm Prince Zhennan’s envoy will have to take my life as well!”

At these words, the soldiers hesitated, halting in their tracks and looking uncertainly at Gu Yu.

Gu Yu’s hand rested on his short blade, the veins on the back of his hand bulging.

He stepped forward, moving toward Jiang Heng, determined to see whether she truly dared to live and die with this Prince Zhennan’s envoy.

“You—stay right there.” Jiang Heng pulled out her hairpin and pressed it against her own neck, her eyes fixed on Gu Yu.

“Don’t!” Yan Hui tried to stop her, but Jiang Heng took a few steps back, evading him.

She knew Gu Yu’s character well. He was determined to kill Yan Hui, and she had no other recourse—only her status as Madam Guiyi, only her life.

The title of Madam Guiyi still carried some weight; Gu Yu would have to show some restraint.

Gu Yu watched as the hairpin cut into her neck, drawing blood—bright and glaring, like the red skirt she had worn that night.

She truly had resolved to die.

He stared at the blood trickling down her neck and halted, not advancing another inch.

“I said, Prince Zhennan’s envoy did not break out of prison. He has committed no offense or impropriety. You will not slander or trouble him.” Jiang Heng looked at Gu Yu, demanding his promise—demanding that he allow Yan Hui to leave safely.

A searing fury burned in Gu Yu’s chest.

That man had committed no offense, no wrongdoing?

Jiang Heng could see his reluctance and coolly reminded him, “I am Madam Guiyi. He is my former subordinate.”

She was telling him that, at this moment, she was Madam Guiyi. The person in this prison cell was Madam Guiyi, not his wife. Therefore, Prince Zhennan’s envoy holding her hand was neither improper nor an offense.

The confrontation continued. She still had not lowered the hairpin, and the blood on her neck continued to flow.

Gu Yu raised a hand, about to order the soldiers to stand down, but as he parted his lips, a surge of blood rushed up his throat. Unable to suppress it, he coughed up a mouthful of blood.

“Duke Wei!”

“General!”

“Stand down!”

Gu Yu quickly straightened up, wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth, standing as tall and imposing as before.

The young lady in the cell merely blinked, as if momentarily disturbed by the blood, but soon regained her composure. She looked at him coldly and continued stating her terms: “Let Prince Zhennan’s envoy go.”

Gu Yu said nothing, only turned sideways, allowing passage.

The young lady looked at Yan Hui, her voice instantly softening. “Go.”

Gu Yu clenched his fists, almost coughing up another mouthful of blood.

“Go.” She urged anxiously, aware of Yan Hui’s concerns. “I am Madam Guiyi. He dare not harm me.”

“Go.” Tears welled up in the young lady’s eyes as she urged him again.

Yan Hui took a step forward, his gaze shifting to Gu Yu. “If any harm comes to Madam Guiyi, even if I must die countless times, I will seek justice for her.”

Only after watching Yan Hui leave did Jiang Heng at last relax, letting out a long sigh of relief. She leaned against the cold wall, only now realizing her legs were weak and her palms were covered in cold sweat.

“Clang!” In the deep of the night, Gu Yu used his short blade to break the lock and entered the cell.

Jiang Heng gave him a weary look, then looked away and closed her eyes with indifference.

"Do what you want," she thought. After all, she had originally intended to seek a divorce from him once she was released from prison. At most, if he couldn’t contain his anger, he might give her divorce papers, humiliating her and making her the laughingstock of the capital.

"Who is he, really?" Gu Yu stared at her, his gaze still tinged with rage.

Jiang Heng did not answer. Leaning against the wall with her eyes closed, she said with indifference, "It has nothing to do with him."

"How can it have nothing to do with him?" Gu Yu’s eyes were bloodshot with rage. He gripped her chin and pressed it against the wall. "Who is he, really?"

"He is the envoy of Prince Zhennan," Jiang Heng lifted her eyes and replied calmly.

"He is the envoy of Prince Zhennan, but are you Madam Guiyi?" Gu Yu said coldly, tightening his grip on her chin and bringing his face close to hers. "Have you truly forgotten who you are?"

"What are you doing? Let go!" Jiang Heng struggled, trying to hit the hand gripping her waist, but he bound her wrists with something and pressed her against the wall, holding her firmly by the waist.

"Remember now? Who are you, really?"

He forced his way in again, his earlier rage transforming into brute force. Pinning her against the wall, he noticed the traces of blood on her neck left by another man. Unconsciously, his grip tightened, lifting her slender waist forcefully before bringing her down against him.

"Still don’t remember? Who are you?"

His stern face loomed over hers, interrogating her as if she were on trial.

Jiang Heng tilted her head back, keeping her eyes shut, refusing to think about her humiliation.

This was a prison cell. Even if all the jailers and soldiers outside had withdrawn, there was no door—only bars that offered no privacy. They weren’t even behind a screen.

She remained silent, but he stubbornly insisted on an answer, refusing to release her or back down.

Gripping her chin, he pressed his face closer, his eyes filled with bloodshot intensity, and said to her, "You are my wife, not Madam Guiyi. Understand?"

He shook her bound wrists, the pouch tied to the rope containing the peace stone, and asked, "This was for me, wasn’t it?"

Birthdays, the peace stone, mandarin duck pendants, having the Buddha statue regilded, the ten-foot stone Buddha, the tree inscribed with "Junzi’s Peace"...

All these things weighed heavily on his heart like a thousand-pound stone. But if she would just say one word—that it was all for him—he would believe her.

Yet Jiang Heng said nothing, not even a glance.

She simply kept her eyes closed, turned her head away, and resisted him silently.

In the past, even in bed, she had often acted this way. Only when he forced her by gripping her chin would she look at him. The moment he let go, she would close her eyes and turn away.

Was it not shyness but resistance? Was it resistance born of longing for someone she couldn’t have?

"It was for me, wasn’t it?"

He pressed deeper, almost pressing her against him, forcing her to answer, forcing her to lie to him.

"Say it."

Jiang Heng felt her back burning from the friction, her strength completely drained by the man. Every part of her felt fragile, as if it would shatter at the slightest touch.

"You should know it wasn’t."

Her voice was weak, weary, but her words were like sharp knives, each one piercing his heart.

The man’s brow furrowed deeper, his gaze turning colder.

Why wouldn’t she lie to him? Was it so hard to say a simple "yes"?

Gu Yu said nothing more, only intensified his movements as if punishing her, gripping her chin to prevent her from turning away or avoiding his gaze.

He didn’t care who occupied her thoughts. He wanted her to see clearly who was with her now, in their marital intimacy.

"May nineteenth, do you remember that day?" he whispered coldly in her ear.

He finally understood why she had worn the red skirt that night, why the elderly monk at Guanyin Temple had wished him a happy birthday...

It was another man’s birthday. She had sought the peace stone for that man and worn the red skirt for him.

She had dressed so beautifully, so radiantly, all for another man!

That night, for the first time, she had refused him—because she didn’t want him to touch her.

Even in the side chamber at Guanyin Temple, she had refused him.

It was that day she had met the envoy of Prince Zhennan. It was also that day she had shed so many tears—crying when she first saw the envoy, and crying again at night, afraid he would force himself on her.

So her tears that day were for the envoy of Prince Zhennan, and she was saving herself for him.

She refused to let him touch her, but he insisted.

"May nineteenth, do you remember that day?" he repeated coldly and softly in her ear, deliberately reminding her.

"In your bedchamber, remember?" He spoke each word like a knife, forcing her to recall.

She had worn the red skirt for another man, but it was he who had undid it, he who had wrinkled it, he whose sweat had soaked it.

"Stop talking..."

Tears welled in her eyes again. She bit her lip, refusing to make a sound in response to his movements.

She hadn’t cried all this time, but the moment he mentioned that man’s birthday, her tears flowed uncontrollably...

Yet he deliberately reminded her, "May nineteenth was his birthday, wasn’t it? What were you doing on his birthday?"

"Stop..." Jiang Heng didn’t want to hear another word.

"Ling Lu," he whispered in her ear after a long silence, finally sounding somewhat resigned. "Forget him, and I won’t pursue this further."

Jiang Heng shook her head, weak but clear. "Duke Wei, I have never been Ling Lu."

She lifted her eyes, calm and resolute, and said to Gu Yu, "What he means to me is what Ling Lu means to you. The regret you feel for your sister is the same regret I feel for him."

Gu Yu’s brow furrowed deeply, veins bulging on his forehead.

How dare she openly tell him how much she regretted another man?

A cold smile curled at the corner of his lips. Straightening his back, he pressed her down forcefully and whispered, "Then I can only let you carry that regret for the rest of your life."

...

Gu Yu had been sitting in his study for two hours.

On the desk lay a map and open scrolls. In the corner rested a small silver pendant.

Cheng Ping said that pendant was meant to bless marital harmony and lifelong companionship.

When he left the Dali Temple prison, the first light of dawn was breaking. Jiang Heng could withstand no further hardship, yet she never gave him what he wanted—refusing to say that those things were sought for him.

He never knew that such a gentle, soft-spoken woman could cling to a casual remark, stubbornly refusing to yield to his wishes.

Was he asking for so much? Just an affirmative answer—one that didn’t even have to be true.

She had been caught meeting her former lover, yet she risked her life to protect him. What’s more, afterward, she offered no explanation, no attempt to cover it up, instead boldly and openly telling him that the man was a lingering regret she could never forget.

What was she trying to do? Had she forgotten whose wife she was?

Gu Yu’s icy gaze remained fixed on the pendant, examining the ripple-like patterns on it.

It wasn’t “Zhou,” but “Yuan.”

That man bore a strong resemblance to Yan Rong, so he must also share the surname Yan.

Jiang Heng’s pet name actually was derived from his surname!

What was his real name? When did he become entangled with Jiang Heng? And what was his purpose in coming to the capital incognito?

“Go to the Jiang residence, summon Chun Jin, and bring that locked chest from Jiang Heng’s chamber. Tell them it holds items of mine and bring it here.”

The servant obeyed, quickly carrying out his orders and bringing both Chun Jin and the chest to his study.

“Master, this key was kept by the young lady. I don’t know…”

Chun Jin, thinking the chest indeed contained Gu Yu’s belongings, was about to explain she had no key to open it when the man unsheathed his dagger and smashed the lock with a violent crash. He then began sifting through the contents.

Sure enough, there was a plaque inscribed with “Birthday Joy” and a pouch containing a “peace stone.”

Beneath these were clothes, likely unworn for years, stored at the bottom of the chest for so long they had developed a faint musty smell. Yet their colors—reds and greens—remained vivid and bright. Probably old dresses from the young lady’s youth.

On top of the old clothes lay a slender vermilion box, unassuming, embroidered with two small characters in gold thread: “Yan Jiu.” Beside them were a few flying swallows. Inside the box was only a yellowed slip of paper—a small drawing of a young girl adorned with pomegranate blossoms in her hair. In the lower right corner was the date of Jiang Heng’s coming-of-age birthday and a name—

Yan Hui.

So, that man was named Yan Hui?

Yan Hui, Xiao Yuan—Yuan, meaning “deep water.”

Gu Yu’s eyes darkened. He grabbed a lamp from beside him and threw it into the chest, then tossed in a lighted spill.

“There are still the young lady’s belongings inside!”

Chun Jin cried out in alarm, trying to rescue the chest, but the contents were highly flammable, and with the lamp oil spilled, flames erupted instantly, engulfing the chest in a raging fire, crackling loudly.

Gu Yu dismissed the other servants, leaving only Chun Jin behind.

“How long have you been serving Lady Jiang?”

Though aware of Gu Yu’s cold and unfeeling nature, Chun Jin sensed his unusually disturbed state today and replied cautiously, “Many years.”

“Since childhood?” Gu Yu’s voice was heavy.

He usually spoke in this tone, but today it was particularly intimidating.

Chun Jin trembled, bowing her head even lower. “Yes.”

“Do you know Yan Hui?”

Chun Jin shuddered, instinctively looking up at Gu Yu. After a dazed moment, she hurriedly lowered her head and shook it repeatedly. “I don’t know him!”

“Tell the truth.” His voice grew even lower, eerie like a ghost in the deep night, carrying an inexplicable menace.

Chun Jin kept shaking her head. “I don’t know him!”

Gu Yu’s gaze darkened further.

If even the maid was so fearful and evasive, it seemed Jiang Heng’s past entanglement with that man was both unforgettable and taboo.

“If you want your young lady to remain safe, tell me the truth. If I have to find out myself, do you think the Jiang family would dare protect her?”

Tears welled in Chun Jin’s eyes. Recalling Gu Yu’s usual coldness toward her mistress, she knew his threat was real. Gathering courage, she wept, “Master, the young lady is your wife! Since marrying you, she has been devoted to you without fault. You cannot treat her this way…”

Gu Yu had no patience for this. He snatched off the silver pendant and threw it before Chun Jin. “Devoted?”

After three years of marriage, she still wore a pendant engraved with another man’s name. Was that devotion?

Her maid was more pragmatic than her, better at deception.

“Tell me the truth, and I will spare her life.” Gu Yu tapped rhythmically on the dagger at his waist with a bent finger.

Chun Jin finally relented. “I’ll talk.”

“Yan Hui and my young lady had known each other since they were children and often played together. Originally, the young lady wished to marry Yan Hui, but the elders disapproved. Later…”

Chun Jin hesitated, weighing her words to lessen the man’s anger.

“The truth.” Gu Yu saw through her hesitation and threatened.

Chun Jin had no choice but to continue. “Later, when you came to propose, the matriarch and the General favored you. The young lady refused… so she fled together with Yan Hui… What transpired afterward, I do not know. I only know the young lady was caught and fell seriously ill. I heard Yan Hui was slashed twice by her elder brother and carried away by the current—presumed dead…”

Gu Yu sat silently for a long time before saying, “If today’s matters are leaked…”

“I understand! I will not speak of it. I implore you, Master, do not harm my young lady!” Chun Jin kowtowed pleadingly.

Gu Yu said nothing, waving his hand to dismiss her.

What he had learned was not entirely unexpected.

Jiang Heng’s devout Buddhist observances, her prayers and wishes—all centered on one plea: “May the noble one be safe and well.” He had guessed something had happened between them.

That was why, upon seeing him at the Guanyin Temple, she could not hold back her tears, even shedding tears right before him.

Reunited after long separation, regaining what was lost—she should have been elated. Unknowingly, he had mistaken her tears for wrongs suffered at the hands of Duke Liang and his wife.

So, in the prison cell last night, she risked her life to ensure Yan Hui’s safe release, fearing to lose him again.

Three years—she had been married to him for three years, yet her eyes still held only Yan Hui!

He had given her a chance—a chance to deceive him, to remain his wife. But she had tossed it aside like garbage.

Gu Yu gripped his dagger, veins standing out on the back of his hand.

He cared nothing for someone who showed no genuine feeling toward him.

Gu Yu headed to the Dali Temple prison, made a point to bring Jiang Xing along.

...

"Gu Yu, has something happened to A Heng in prison?" Jiang Xing couldn't help but ask worriedly.

Gu Yu said no and didn't elaborate.

Though anxious with a gut feeling something was wrong, Jiang Xing refrained from pressing further since Gu Yu remained silent, so he stayed quiet as well.

Just outside the Dali Temple office, they ran into Prince Qin, accompanied by Yan Hui.

Without his mask today, Jiang Xing recognized him at a glance, his face showing shock, almost lost his cool in front of Prince Qin.

"Do you know each other?" Prince Qin noticed Jiang Xing's unusual reaction.

Jiang Xing awkwardly laughed twice and was about to say "no," but Yan Hui interjected, "We could say so. Years ago, when I studied in the capital, I once visited Lord Jiang."

Prince Qin gave a noncommittal hum, making polite conversation about Yan Hui's past experiences as they headed toward the office. At the entrance, the jailers allowed Prince Qin to pass but stopped Yan Hui.

"What's going on?" Prince Qin asked.

"Duke Wei had just issued an order last night forbidding Envoy Xiao from seeing Madam Guiyi."

Prince Qin looked at Gu Yu. "Is this true?"

Gu Yu nodded, expressionless, and said, "Envoy Xiao had nearly behaved inappropriately toward Madam Guiyi last night."

Prince Qin's eyebrows shot up in surprise, finally understanding why Yan Hui had come to his residence early that morning to discuss arrangements for Madam Guiyi. Could it be that Envoy Xiao and Madam Guiyi...

Hearing this, Jiang Xing’s eye twitched. He also understood Gu Yu’s intention in bringing him along—likely to expose the past between Yan Hui and his eighth sister.

Yan Hui didn't defend himself, ignoring Gu Yu as he spoke to Prince Qin: "I questioned Madam Guiyi last night and reviewed the case evidence. The death of the former master cannot be blamed on her. I will report this conclusion to Prince Zhennan."

Prince Qin wasn't particularly concerned with the truth or Madam Guiyi’s fate; his goal was to appease the Xiao clan, especially Prince Zhennan, who still held military power in Lingnan. Hearing that Yan Hui intended to exonerate Madam Guiyi, he didn’t press for details but pretended to be apologetic: "In that case, release Madam Guiyi immediately and arrange proper accommodations for her."

He glanced at Jiang Xing. "Since you’re here, take your sister home."

Jiang Xing quickly agreed, but Yan Hui cut in: "It’s natural for a widow to return home, but Madam Guiyi’s case must await Prince Zhennan’s response. Only when there are no objections can final arrangements be made. For now, it’s best to accommodate her at the official post station."

Yan Hui had already moved from Guanyin Temple to the post station the previous day. Prince Qin caught his drift immediately and glanced at Gu Yu, whose expression gave nothing away, suggesting no objection. "Very well. After all, this is a Xiao family matter. Let Envoy Xiao handle it."

Though he hated the idea, Jiang Xing dared not argue in front of Prince Qin. He could only wonder what game Gu Yu and Yan Hui were playing.

Since Yan Hui had already visited the prison, he must have known the prisoner was Jiang Heng. His urgency to free her was understandable.

But what were Gu Yu’s intentions?

If he hadn’t uncovered the past between Yan Hui and Jiang Heng, why bring Jiang Xing along today?

If he had, how could he allow Yan Hui to take Jiang Heng to the post station?

Unless... he intended to use this chance to swap identities—letting Seventh Sister pose as his wife A Heng, while A Heng continued pretending to be Madam Guiyi?

As Jiang Xing silently pondered, Jiang Heng was brought out of the office by the jailers. Startled, he asked, "What happened to you?"

Jiang Heng seemed worn out, a freshly scabbed wound on her neck, she looked genuinely unwell, as if she had been unwell for days.

Yan Hui shot Gu Yu an angry glare, who met his gaze with a faint, provocative smile, adding pointedly, "Perhaps she was too exhausted last night."

He then turned to Prince Qin: "Madam Guiyi mentioned recently that she hadn’t seen her parents in five years and missed them dearly. Since her elder brother is here today, why not let him take her home to visit them before accompanying Envoy Xiao to the post station?"

Gu Yu’s expression darkened, his hands clenched into fists behind his back, his knuckles white and prominent.

A cold sweat broke out on Jiang Xing's brow.

Yan Hui took the opportunity to thank Prince Qin, summoning a pre-arranged carriage to settle Jiang Heng inside. He then bid farewell to the others, riding next to the carriage as it left.

...

"She left with Yan Hui!"

Upon hearing Jiang Xing’s report, Jiang Zhiwang shot up from his seat, furious. "That girl is nothing but trouble! She can't go a single day without stirring something up!"

"Father, keep your voice down!" Jiang Xing urged in a hushed tone, glancing outside. "Let’s first figure out what Duke Wei is thinking. If he’s willing to let Seventh Sister permanently take A Heng’s place as his wife, we can deal with what to do about A Heng—even if she wishes to remarry Yan Hui, we can allow it."

"And if Duke Wei disagrees?" Jiang Zhiwang asked.

"Then we’ll need to find a way to bring A Heng back," Jiang Xing replied, massaging his temples, exasperated.

"Where is Duke Wei now? I’ll sound him out," Jiang Zhiwang said.

"In the pavilion in the rear garden. I had Seventh Sister keep him company."

Jiang Zhiwang hummed in acknowledgment and made his way to the rear garden. From a distance, he saw two people sitting upright in the pavilion—one sipping tea, the other heating it.

"Lord Gu, this is how we often prepare tea in Jiangzuo. I wonder if it suits your taste?"

Perhaps because she had been recuperating at home in good spirits, Jiang Wan looked much healthier in just a few days. With light makeup, she looked as gentle and elegant as ever, her voice was light and cheerful, and very pleasant.

Gu Yu looked at her, turning the teacup in his hand. Though he had only taken one sip and no more, he said mildly, "It's fine."

"If you like it, Lord Gu, I can teach A Heng this method another day. When you and your wife have leisure, listening to the rain while brewing tea would be a delightful pastime," Jiang Wan said with a smile.

Gu Yu’s gaze intensified, his hand tightening unconsciously until the teacup shattered with a sharp crack.

Having no idea about the rift between Gu Yu and his wife, Jiang Wan missed the shift in his mood. Assuming the cup was simply fragile, she hurriedly called for a maid to fetch wound medicine when she saw blood on Gu Yu’s hand.

Soon, two maids arrived—one with warm water, the other with medicine and clean cloth. After cleaning the wound, they were about to bandage it when Gu Yu suddenly moved his hand away.

The maids exchanged surprised looks. One whispered, "My Lord, please let us bandage it?"

Gu Yu kept his hand raised, his phoenix eyes lowered, staring blankly at the floor. After a long silence, he looked up at Jiang Wan standing nearby and extended his injured hand toward her. "You do it."

Jiang Wan blinked, surprised, her lips parting slightly. "Me?"

"Yes, you," he said, his voice low and firm.

Jiang Wan paused briefly, then nodded slightly. Taking the medicine and cloth, she approached him. Just as she was about to apply the medicine, he moved his hand away again.

A moment later, he offered it back for her to tend to.

Jiang Wan was careful not to touch him, carefully sprinkling the powder and gently wrapping the bandage.

Only then did Gu Yu lift his lowered eyes, staring intently at the young woman before him.

Jiang Heng was right—she was never Ling Lu. The one before him was.

The wife he intended to marry had always been Ling Lu before him, never someone like A Heng, Yan Jiu, or those other random names.

She was merely Ling Lu's shadow, and now that Ling Lu had returned, he no longer needed that false substitute.

After bandaging the wound, Jiang Wan was about to return to her seat when Gu Yu glanced at the spot beside him and, still with downcast eyes, ordered, "Sit here."

Jiang Wan frowned slightly, thinking of Jiang Heng still in prison. Being so intimate with Gu Yu felt too heartless. After a moment's thought, she gently advised, "Lord Gu, you are still A Heng's husband..."

Gu Yu lifted his gaze to her, his eyes suddenly deepening and darkening, his voice turning cold. "Sit here."

Considering the great debt of gratitude Gu Yu had shown her, Jiang Wan complied and sat beside him.

Unexpectedly, the next moment, Gu Yu lifted and gathered her into his embrace.

"Lord Gu!"

Jiang Wan struggled to get up but was held down firmly by the man, his cold eyes fixed on her face.

"Ling Lu," his voice finally held a trace of warmth, though his phoenix eyes remained cold as he spoke, as if calling to her yet not.

Their posture was too intimate. Jiang Wan dared not look up at him, keeping her head slightly lowered as she pressed against his shoulders with both hands, fearing he might take further liberties. Yet inwardly, she was puzzled.

That day in the carriage, he had sat so far away, clearly avoiding closeness. Why today did he suddenly...

Fortunately, the man did not force her further. After staring at her face for a long time, he... suddenly pushed her away.

Jiang Wan truly couldn't fathom the man's thoughts. After standing for a moment, she found an excuse to leave: "The water for brewing tea is almost gone. I'll go get more."

"Do not go."

Once again, the man lowered his phoenix eyes, gazing at the empty floor like an injured, abandoned wild goose—lonely and pitiable.

Jiang Wan finally sensed something was wrong. After a moment's thought, she asked softly, "Is it because of me that A Heng is upset with you?"

Gu Yu looked up at her, then lowered his eyes again, remaining silent.

He almost wished Jiang Heng was angry with him for this reason, rather than desperately clinging to that other man.

No, why should he hold any hope for her?

He had already decided to let her go.

She was just a shadow—what was there to cherish?

The one before him was the real Ling Lu. He just wasn't used to it yet.

He would grow accustomed to it, would completely cast aside that shadow!

He didn't care whom she held in her heart—after all, the one in his heart had never been her!

The one in his heart had always been Ling Lu, not Jiang Heng!

"Between you and me, do not mention her," Gu Yu said coldly.

Jiang Wan didn't understand the reason but didn't know how to comfort him either. Embarrassed, she looked outside and happened to see her father nearby. Quickly, she said, "Father, do you have business with Lord Gu?"

Only then did Jiang Zhiwang call out "esteemed son-in-law" and approach with a smile.

Jiang Zhiwang had seen everything in the pavilion and was now certain that Gu Yu still held unresolved feelings for Jiang Wan. He assumed this was why Gu Yu hadn't blamed or punished Jiang Heng for her defiance.

"Father, you discuss matters. I'll go fetch more water," Jiang Wan took the opportunity to leave.

Jiang Zhiwang nodded slightly, smiling as he stroked his beard, increasingly pleased with this daughter's understanding, tact, elegance, and composure—she satisfied him in every way.

No wonder Duke Wei was so deeply enamored of her.

"Esteemed son-in-law, there's something I'd like to ask your opinion on," Jiang Zhiwang said without further ado, getting straight to the point. "How do you plan to provide for Seventh Daughter going forward?"

Gu Yu remained silent, his eyes lowered, sitting like a jade statue without a trace of vitality.

Seeing that he didn't respond, Jiang Zhiwang gave a strained smile. Considering both were his daughters, he knew Gu Yu might hesitate to choose one over the other, so he proactively said, "We all understand that your favorite has always been Seventh Daughter. If not for Lady Xiao's honeyed words and scheming back then, you and Seventh Daughter would have long been married. Perhaps by now, you would already have children, living a happy and fulfilling life."

As he spoke, Jiang Zhiwang glanced at Gu Yu's expression, but he still wore a cold face, showing no reaction.

No reaction meant tacit approval. Jiang Zhiwang continued, "A devoted lover is priceless. That Duke Wei treats my seventh daughter so well, without disdain for her status as a widow from the Southern Dynasties, is truly rare. If you intend to marry her again as your wife, we have no objections."

No matter what he said, Gu Yu kept his eyes fixed on the empty floor, not moving a hair.

Jiang Zhiwang thought for a moment and felt it must be because of Jiang Heng.

Whatever reason Gu Yu had for marrying Jiang Heng back then, they had been lawful husband and wife for three years. Now that his true beloved had returned, even if he considered remarrying, he would still have to consider Jiang Heng's feelings.

"Are you worried that A Heng will refuse and cause trouble with you?"

This finally made Gu Yu look up.

Jiang Zhiwang grew even more certain this was the reason and reassured him, "Don't worry about that. If you're willing to marry Seventh Daughter, I'll have A Heng consent to a separation."

Perhaps fearing Gu Yu still had reservations, he added, "Actually, A Heng mentioned this to me before. She knows you always intended to marry Seventh Daughter, so she said that once Seventh Daughter is cleared of her wrongful status, she is willing to separate from you."

Gu Yu's phoenix eyes shifted, deep like whirlpools under water. "She said she is willing to separate from me?"

Jiang Zhiwang nodded. "Absolutely true."

Gu Yu's expression turned cold, and he let out a cold laugh. "When did she say this?"

Thinking he didn't believe it, Jiang Zhiwang told him the truth: "It was that day when we brought her back from Guanyin Temple. She said she was willing to take Seventh Daughter's place in prison, willing to step aside for you and Seventh Daughter."

That day again—that day, the nineteenth of May!

She had dressed up so beautifully for another man, yet turned around and told Jiang Zhiwang she wanted a separation!

No wonder, no wonder she made no effort to hide or explain, openly telling him that her three years of devout prayers before the Buddha were all for another man!

So, she wanted a separation.

She dropped all pretense because she had long decided to no longer be his wife.

Gu Yu lowered his phoenix eyes, clenching his fist so tightly that it reopened the wound. Instantly, the pristine white bandage was stained with a layer of blood.

"This... your hand is bleeding again. Was it not bandaged properly just now? I'll have Seventh Daughter come bandage it for you again."

As he spoke, Jiang Zhiwang ordered a maid to call for Jiang Wan and asked Gu Yu again, "What does esteemed son-in-law think?"

Gu Yu's eyes were like frigid depths, deep and unfathomable. He tapped the golden hilt of his waist sword heavily. "I think things are fine as they are now."

Jiang Zhiwang faltered, immediately comprehending his meaning.

The current situation means he doesn't have to divorce or remarry—A Heng takes Ling Lu's place, and Ling Lu takes A Heng's place, a seamless switch.

Jiang Zhiwang stroked his beard, pondered for a moment, and nodded, "That might be for the best. After all, you and A Heng have no children, so there's not much to worry about."

Gu Yu's eyes flickered again. Children?

Was it because Jiang Heng had no children with him that she was so determined to seek a divorce?

By now, she should have arrived at the official post station, right?

What was she doing? Was she holding hands with Yan Hui, sharing their deepest feelings?

Gu Yu's eyes darkened. He rose abruptly and strode out of the Jiang family home.

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