Chapter 23

Chapter Twenty-Three

Jiang Heng settled into the official posthouse and slept for almost an entire day, waking only when a soft knock came at her door as evening approached. The knock was gentle and slow, clearly meant not to startle her.

"Brother, wait a moment."

Knowing it must be Yan Hui, Jiang Heng softly spoke, then quickly rose to wash and tidy herself before opening the door.

"Brother." She stood inside the doorway, her face radiant as peach blossoms, her eyes like two crescent moons, her smile spilling over him like moonlight.

Yan Hui noted her much-improved complexion and spirit compared to when she was released from prison that morning. He, too, smiled gently, saying, "It's time for dinner."

"Alright." Jiang Heng smiled faintly, about to step out to join him in the main hall, when Yan Hui interjected, "You should eat in your room."

Jiang Heng paused, then quickly understood his meaning. After all, she was an imposter and shouldn't draw attention by appearing in public. Yet, given the strictures between men and women, she couldn't invite Yan Hui to dine with her in her room.

"I'll also eat in my room. The weather is muggy—you can open the window for some fresh air." Yan Hui, noticing the disappointment in her lowered gaze, offered this suggestion after a moment's thought.

Jiang Heng didn't grasp his underlying intention but obediently complied. As soon as she closed her door, she went to open the north-facing window, only to see a calico cat poking its head in.

"How did you get here?" Jiang Heng exclaimed in surprise, picking up the cat and leaning out the window to look. Through the adjacent window, she saw Yan Hui standing by his own window, watching her with a faint smile.

Their rooms were next to each other. If both opened their north-facing windows, though separated by a wall, they could still see each other by leaning out and, at the very least, talk.

"Brother." Jiang Heng beamed, finally understanding Yan Hui’s true meaning.

On the way back from Dali Temple to the official posthouse, Yan Hui had walked alongside the carriage, but with the coachman present, they hadn't exchanged a single word. Upon arriving, Yan Hui had insisted she rest immediately, not even allowing her to sit in the main hall for a while, leaving Jiang Heng no choice but to hold back all she wanted to say.

She had thought he didn't want to speak to her, that he would treat her as he had during those two days at Guanyin Temple—acknowledging her presence but keeping his distance.

But she was wrong. He had come to see her in prison late at night, called her "A Jiu" as Yan Hui, and arranged for her release the very next morning. Clearly, he wasn't holding a grudge against her.

"Brother." Jiang Heng had already called his name countless times since opening the window.

She said nothing else, only those two words.

"I'm here." Yan Hui never asked what she wanted, simply responding patiently each time.

"Brother," Jiang Heng’s tone shifted slightly this time, hesitating over whether to ask the question on her mind.

"Go ahead." Yan Hui’s response showed he sensed she had something to say.

But Jiang Heng was still hesitant. Though she was now Madam Guiyi in name, they both knew she was still Gu Yu’s wife. They hadn't divorced, and the question she wanted to ask, as a married woman, was somewhat inappropriate.

Never before had Jiang Heng wished so fervently that she were truly her sister—a widow.

"I have never married, nor have I had children. Nor do I have any other sweetheart."

She didn’t ask, but Yan Hui answered each unspoken question.

Jiang Heng lowered her gaze, a smile brimming in the corners of her eyes. In return, she wanted to tell him something—though it wasn't finalized yet, her father had already agreed. It was only a matter of time. She had intended to wait until it was settled before telling him, but she couldn't wait.

"My father has agreed to my divorce."

At the mention of her father, Yan Hui fell silent.

Jiang Heng sensed his mood and knew he must still harbor resentment. Back then, her father and brother had been ruthless and cruel, never intending to spare his life. His hatred for them was understandable.

Jiang Heng also fell silent. After a long pause, Yan Hui asked, "Do you and Duke Wei have any children?"

Jiang Heng shook her head. "I never once thought of bearing his child."

No sooner had she spoken than a creaking sound, like wood splitting, reached her ears. Jiang Heng assumed it was the mischievous calico cat scratching the window frame and paid it no mind, but her mood suddenly soured.

Three years ago, when she and Yan Hui fell into the water together, she had been menstruating at the time. Afterward, she fell seriously ill and never had her period again. Since it caused no pain or discomfort, she had no strong feelings about bearing children and never mentioned it to anyone or sought medical treatment. After three years of neglect, it had likely become a chronic condition, beyond cure.

In the past, she hadn't cared, but now...

"Brother..." Jiang Heng wanted to ask if he minded her condition, but the words died on her lips.

She knew that if she asked, he would surely say he didn't mind—he might even comfort and cherish her. But how could she ask him with a clear conscience to accept her in her sickly state?

"Brother, I'm a little tired. I'd like to rest for a while."

From the other window, there was a moment of silence. Just as Jiang Heng was about to close the window and leave, Yan Hui suddenly called out, "A Jiu."

"I was wrong before." His voice suddenly grew heavy, losing the warmth it had held moments earlier.

Jiang Heng paused, not understanding what he meant.

"You were right. Those family members who abandoned you—you shouldn't want them either."

As a child, Jiang Heng had resented her parents for abandoning her at the old estate based on a fortune-teller’s words. Whenever someone asked about her parents, she would stubbornly lift her chin and declare, "I have no father, no mother."

It was Yan Hui who always comforted her, saying blood was thicker than water, that her parents must still love her and would eventually bring her home. Even on her seventh birthday, it was Yan Hui who helped her write a letter to her mother, expressing her wish to see them and celebrate her birthday together. To ensure her mother would be pleased and mercifully allow her return to the capital, Yan Hui spent a long time polishing, revising, and editing the letter—and Jiang Heng copied it over and over until there wasn't a single mistake or smudge, every character elegant and pleasing to the eye, before sending it to the capital.

That time, after being sent back to the old estate in Canghe for fighting with the princess, Jiang Heng tearfully told Yan Hui she no longer wanted her parents—she only wanted her brother. Yan Hui didn't rebuke her then, but later, he still gently guided her, not letting her harbor too much resentment toward her immediate family.

But now, he was telling her that he had been wrong all along.

Jiang Heng realized that, though Yan Hui hadn't explicitly said it, his resentment toward the Jiang family must have grown deep and irreversible.

"Brother, rest early."

Jiang Heng hadn't yet figured out how to respond. She couldn't counsel him as he once had, urging him not to hate her immediate family. In fact, she felt he had every right to resent them. But what came next—she hadn't thought that far ahead.

Jiang Heng closed the window and turned around, only to find Gu Yu standing by her dining table, his hands clasped behind his back as usual, his expression cold and stern, his gaze slightly lowered as he watched her.

When had he come in? How much had he heard?

Why hadn't she noticed at all?

Jiang Heng instinctively moved to open the window, to warn Yan Hui, but after taking two steps back toward the window, she suddenly steadied herself.

This was the Divine Capital, the imperial city of the Qi Dynasty, and Gu Yu was the Duke Wei of Qi. If he wanted someone dead, he could fabricate an excuse as easily as he had in prison the night before and take Yan Hui’s life without a second thought.

She stopped and did not approach the window.

"Duke Wei, this is an official posthouse, not your residence. I would appreciate it if you knocked before entering." Jiang Heng spoke sternly, her gaze firm.

Gu Yu slightly raised his lowered eyelids, his eyes growing even more imposing as they rested on her.

She dared speak to him like this? It seemed she had not only embraced her role as Madam Guiyi but was enjoying it.

"Shall I knock now?"

He gave a cold glare, his eyes brimming with malice no less than last night's. Though he spoke of knocking, he strode toward the woman instead, closing the distance in a few steps until he stood right before her. Without even bending down, he simply hoisted her up with one arm, pressing her against the wall. His rough palm pressed heavily against her waist, his gaze growing even colder. "How much force does Madam think is appropriate?"

Just a wall away was Yan Hui. Even if the man weren't as fiercely aggressive as usual, the slightest noise might be heard by Yan Hui.

Jiang Heng pursed her lips, using her feeble strength to grip his wrist, her voice lowered to a whisper. "I am currently Madam Guiyi. If you act this way here, are you trying to ruin Madam Guiyi’s reputation?"

Gu Yu frowned, his hand moving upward from her waist to press heavily against the soft flesh beneath her left breast. "Does Madam Guiyi have a birthmark here?"

Jiang Heng clutched his wrist, but could not stop his movements at all.

"Duke Wei, what exactly do you want?" Jiang Heng did not want to alert Yan Hui, her voice growing even softer.

Gu Yu did not pull back his hand, but fortunately made no further moves. He stared fixedly at her, his voice cold. "Who exactly are you?"

Jiang Heng remained silent. After a long while, she helplessly closed her eyes and murmured half-heartedly, "Husband," pleading softly, "Even for my sister’s reputation, don’t do this here..."

"Was it really for your sister’s reputation?" Gu Yu gritted his teeth. She had learned to deceive now—for the sake of another man, she even dragged in her sister’s reputation.

Jiang Heng fell silent, lowering her eyes without looking at him.

Her demeanor only stoked the man’s fury. He gripped her chin, forcing her to lift her face and look at him.

"Are you..."

Every word Gu Yu uttered seemed to be ground between his teeth, but then he fell silent, simply frowning coldly as he stared at the woman.

They had been married for over three years, yet had no children. It turned out it wasn't due to their time spent apart—it was because her heart belonged to another, and she had never intended to bear him a child.

Did she long for the day she could reunite with Yan Hui, refusing to have a child with him to avoid future entanglements?

If he asked, she would surely say yes. After all, she had already decided to divorce him—why would she bother lying?

And why should he bother asking? He, too, had decided to divorce her. Whether he asked or not made no difference.

"Jiang Heng, as long as I do not divorce you, you remain my wife. Know what is proper and what is not." His tone was stern, almost a warning.

Jiang Heng understood his meaning and nodded slightly in acknowledgment.

But the man was not satisfied with this response. "I do not wish to see that again."

Jiang Heng nodded casually. "Mm."

Gu Yu remained unsatisfied, his gaze fixed on her.

Jiang Heng then softened her voice. "I was wrong. I will remember my place from now on."

"Really?" Gu Yu’s eyes showed no trace of pity at her reluctant submission. He reached to undo her girdle.

Jiang Heng clenched his hand tightly, staring stubbornly at him, her eyelashes trembling faintly.

"Duke Wei, you promised me."

"Promised you what?" Gu Yu’s expression was icy. He pressed her hand down and continued loosening the girdle, his rough thumb rubbing over the red birthmark on her soft flesh. "Didn't you just say you would remember your place? Have you forgotten so quickly?"

"Given your status, should you address me as Duke Wei?"

The place his hand rubbed served as a reminder of her identity.

Jiang Heng bit her lip, refusing to speak, suppressing the trembling in her body, unwilling to make the slightest sound.

He lifted the hem of his robe and tucked it into his girdle, pressing closer to her, whispering in her ear, "If you ask me to be gentler, to avoid disturbing others, perhaps I will agree."

He knew what she feared—from the moment he entered, she had not called for help, speaking to him in hushed tones as if sneaking around—all because she feared Yan Hui would know he had come for her.

They were husband and wife. She knew well that Yan Hui could do nothing to him. So, all she could do was ensure Yan Hui remained unaware of his presence, to prevent Yan Hui from overthinking, from growing angry, from losing sleep over it...

He and Jiang Heng were the legitimate couple. What he was doing was merely what a husband should rightfully do. Yet she acted like a thief, desperate to conceal any trace of him...

Who was her real husband? Who was the one who stood in the way, the despicable villain who disrupted their marriage?

Gu Yu’s eyes darkened abruptly, and he thrust deeper.

Jiang Heng bit her lip hard, burying her face in the man’s chest, muffling the sounds in her throat against his firm chest. Her hands gripped his shoulders, her nails digging deeply into his solid flesh.

"Gentler, please, be gentler."

Her voice was already faint, buried against his chest, almost swallowed by the night, unheard.

But the man’s anger did not dissipate with her pleading; instead, it grew fiercer, and his force did not lessen.

"Husband, do you truly want my sister to bear the shame of being accused of fornication in the government courier station?" The woman’s voice remained low, fearful of being overheard.

Gu Yu paused, his voice cold. "You are not Madam Guiyi. You are not her."

She was his wife, properly wedded, rightfully his.

However, he did not deliberately intensify his force again. Instead, he leaned slightly closer, whispering word by word into her ear, "It was never you I intended to marry. You merely resemble her. In the future, I will still marry her."

"Good." The woman’s reply was flat, devoid of emotion.

The man’s eyes deepened. How could she say "good"?

Did she long for him to say this?

"Jiang Heng, have you ever..."

Gu Yu did not finish the question.

He knew what her answer would be: No, never. She had never truly considered him her husband, so how could she ever have intended to bear his child?

There was no need to ask. He had already decided to divorce her—why dwell on such futility?

He would divorce her. He must divorce her.