Chapter 69

Chapter 69

Upon Lu Suian's triumphant return, the Wei Emperor, beaming with delight, immediately inquired what reward he desired. Lu Suian calmly replied, "Why not await the conclusion of the hunt, Your Majesty, and bestow all honors at once?"

A simple sentence, yet it exuded an undeniable, formidable presence.

The Wei Emperor burst into hearty laughter, his expression a mix of relief, admiration, and profound satisfaction. "Excellent! Then I shall eagerly anticipate your triumphant return, my esteemed minister."

No sooner had the Emperor spoken than distant drums thundered, war drums pounded, music swelled, and the autumn hunt officially commenced.

Everyone rose from their seats, swiftly mounted their horses, and rode forth in a magnificent procession toward the distant, dense forests.

Lu Suian then leisurely descended from the viewing platform, only to be instantly surrounded by the entire Lu family. Lu Jingrong, especially elated, gripped Lu Suian’s shoulders tightly and exclaimed three rapid, emphatic "Good! Good! Good!"—his joy unmistakable, almost overflowing.

It was the first time in over a decade that the Eldest Branch had decisively outshone the Second Branch—a true turning point, heralding their long-awaited moment to rise.

Amidst the clamor of praise and congratulations, Lu Suian offered brief, courteous replies. Then, through the bustling crowd, he slowly lifted his gaze—and looked straight toward Shen Anning, standing quietly at the very rear, watching him in silence.

Their eyes met. A faint flutter stirred in his chest. Moments later, he parted the crowd and walked steadily toward his wife.

It seemed this was the first time—across both lifetimes—that Lu Suian had deliberately crossed through a throng to approach her.

In their past life, as Lu Suian ascended step by step to the pinnacle of power, he had always been encircled by admirers during his moments of glory—yet never once turned back to look at her. She had watched, from afar, as his figure grew ever taller and straighter—silently witnessing him recede further and further into the distance.

This, it seemed, was the first time he had chosen to turn back.

Lost in thought, she barely noticed his approach—until that stately, composed figure stood before her.

Since their conversation that night, they had tacitly agreed upon a respectful distance. Yet in just these few days, so much had transpired: they had faced life and death together; they had stood side by side against their enemies. Something new seemed to be stirring between them—though neither could name it.

Shen Anning did not know what it was.

Nor did she wish to find out.

As she drifted deeper into contemplation, Lu Suian gazed at her in quiet stillness. Then, suddenly, he raised his hand and extended it toward her.

Shen Anning snapped out of her reverie and looked down—only to see his hand covered in injuries: battle bruises, and deep, mangled, bloodied wounds inflicted by chains. The sight was jarring.

She froze—then Lu Suian arched a faint, knowing brow and said, "Chang Li's fingers are clumsy. He lacks your meticulousness, *Furen*."

He clearly expected her to tend his wounds.

Hardly had he spoken when Chang Li came sprinting up from behind, quick-witted and eager: "*Furen*, the Young Master says I handled him too roughly and hurt him. It's better if you do it."

Even as he spoke, he thrust the medicine kit into Huan Xi’s hands and vanished into the crowd.

Afraid of pain? Lu Suian?

He hadn’t flinched when that Suo Da warrior struck him so hard he spat blood—how could he possibly fear mere wound-dressing?

Shen Anning didn’t believe a word of it. Yet when she looked up, she found Lu Suian smirking faintly, his gaze locked intently on hers. That knowing look sent an unexpected flush rising to her cheeks—and she quickly lowered her head. After a long pause, she finally took the medicine kit, pressed her lips together, and began bandaging his wounds.

She gently turned his hand over—and the instant her fingertips brushed his, both their hands paused, ever so slightly. Soon, Shen Anning suppressed her unease and examined his hand closely—only to discover the injuries were far worse than she’d imagined.

Both palm and dorsum were ravaged by the chains. Though bleeding was minimal, in several places, bone and sinew were visible beneath torn flesh. Just looking at it was enough to grasp the agony he must have endured.

Shen Anning had once sold herbs to a local apothecary—she knew a thing or two about wound care. As she carefully wrapped the gauze, she unexpectedly noticed a neat row of clear bite marks on the broad fleshy part of his hand near the thumb.

Her hand stilled for a beat.

It must have been from that day—when she’d been unconscious. She couldn’t recall clearly what happened after she lost consciousness, but Bai Tao had later told her.

After she recovered, Lu Suian himself fell ill—and for some time, they lived separately. This was the first time Shen Anning had seen this wound.

Now scabbed over, nearly healed.

Seeing it, she suddenly remembered: Lu Suian was still unwell. His illness hadn’t fully resolved—though improved, he still suffered a lingering cough.

After all, his illness had been caused by her.

And today’s injuries, too, were indirectly tied to her.

Though Shen Anning had long sealed her heart, she wasn’t made of stone. As she wound the bandage, she murmured softly, "The Young Master shouldn’t have taken such a risk today—"

That Suo Da was a mountain of a man, terrifyingly strong. Even with little knowledge of combat, Shen Anning could tell Lu Suian stood no chance against him in raw strength. Today’s victory had come solely from wit and strategy. It was fortunate he’d won—but had he lost, he might have lost his life.

There was truly no need to flaunt himself for the sake of empty words.

But the moment she finished speaking, a quiet, pointed voice sounded above her:

"If I hadn’t taken the risk, wouldn’t *Furen* have handed me over to someone else?"

His tone was light—yet carried a distinct undercurrent… of resentment.

Shen Anning stiffened—then shock flickered across her face.

Why would Lu Suian say such a thing?

Suddenly, Zhang Wan’s teasing words before the competition surfaced in her mind:

"Sister, if you like him, why don’t we swap?"

Could it be—could it be that Lu Suian had overheard them?

Her eyes widened in disbelief—then she dismissed the thought just as quickly.

Impossible. When she and Zhang Wan had bantered, Lu Suian had been riding alongside Crown Prince Lian, hundreds of paces away in the distant field.

If not that, then only one explanation remained: someone must have overheard their conversation—and rushed immediately to report it to Lu Suian. Who could have reached him so swiftly? Among everyone present—who else but her estranged sister-in-law, Lu Baozhen?

A wave of embarrassment washed over her.

What rotten luck—she’d slandered him twice, and both times, she’d been caught.

And judging by his tone, had he fought today merely to prove—to her—that he was stronger than Crown Prince Lian?

Slowly, she raised her eyes—and saw Lu Suian narrowing his gaze, staring intently at her.

Perhaps because she’d grown accustomed to mocking him, even being caught no longer unsettled her. In fact, she soon arched a delicate brow and retorted, "It was just a joke, Young Master. Why dwell on it?"

"Oh?"

Before she’d even finished, Lu Suian stepped forward—closing the distance between them—and asked, "Since it was just a joke, then in *Furen*’s opinion—how do I compare to Crown Prince Lian?"

As he spoke, his hawk-like eyes narrowed further still.

If one listened closely, it sounded as though his molars were clenched tight.

Shen Anning couldn’t tell if it was her imagination, but his tone seemed to carry a faint, chilling undertone.

That damned Lu Baozhen—she really spilled everything.

Feigning ignorance of his expression, Shen Anning worked faster. After a moment, she bit her lip and said softly, "Didn’t Sister Zhang Wan say it herself? The heir… even surpasses Crown Prince Lian."

As soon as she finished tying the bandage, she tried to pull her hand back—but in the next instant, her fingers were caught firmly.

Shen Anning looked up abruptly to find Lu Suian gripping her hand, raising an eyebrow as he said, "What I’m asking now is *you*, Madam—"

As he spoke, his injured hand gradually enclosed hers completely, trapping it.

His gaze remained locked on hers—dark and intense—as though unwilling to miss even the slightest shift in her expression.

Shen Anning’s cheeks flushed slightly.

All around the arena, noblewomen streamed past. And because of Lu Suian’s stellar performance today, he had become the most talked-about figure among the nobility. Many were already stealing glances in their direction.

What would people think if they saw the two of them tugging at each other like this?

Shen Anning tried to free her hand, but she was no match for him. Besides, she feared aggravating his injury if she struggled.

When she looked up again and saw him smirking at her, it suddenly dawned on her—he was doing this on purpose, determined to force a satisfactory answer from her.

After a long pause, Shen Anning finally bit her lip and conceded, "Naturally… the heir is a cut above."

But by the time she uttered those last few words, her jaw was clenched tight.

Satisfied with her answer, Lu Suian’s lips curved into a faint smile—and he finally released his wife’s hand.

Just then, noticing that the hunting party entering the mountains was nearly gone and seeing Madam Lian approaching from a distance, Lu Suian took the reins from Chang Li and said, "Today, when we enter the mountains, tell me what animal you’d like, and I’ll hunt it for you."

Then, as if remembering something, he frowned slightly and added disdainfully, "But nothing like rodents, please."

How long had it been? And he still hadn’t let go of that little squirrel incident.

Shen Anning felt both exasperated and irritated. She retorted coldly, "Since the heir is so remarkable, you ought to hunt a fierce tiger to truly match your imposing presence."

Having delivered her sarcastic remark, she noticed Zhang Wan approaching and immediately turned away from Lu Suian to greet her.

Lu Suian raised an eyebrow at her words, then smiled faintly. After watching his wife walk away, he swiftly mounted his horse and rode off to catch up with the hunting party.

…

"How is he? Is the heir alright? Was he badly injured?"

Zhang Wan had seen from a distance that Shen Anning was tending to the heir’s wounds. The scenes from the arena had been shocking, and she couldn’t help but ask with concern.

She had grown closer to Ning Er recently, and having witnessed how Crown Prince Lu had come to the heir’s aid in the arena—and how seamlessly the two had displayed great tacit understanding—she felt an even stronger bond with Shen Anning. After all, Crown Prince Lian, coming from a military background, usually associated only with military men and had little patience for scholars. Yet Crown Prince Lu was an exception.

Suddenly remembering something, Zhang Wan added eagerly, "By the way, Ning Er, you were truly impressive earlier! You know, I thought you were just as dazzling as Crown Prince Lu on that arena. If it were me, I doubt I’d have had your courage and determination."

Recalling the thrilling events both on and off the arena, she still found it heart-pounding.

Zhang Wan admired Shen Anning sincerely, feeling as though she had glimpsed a different side of womanhood—proof that women could be just as remarkable as men.

Shen Anning assured her that Lu Suian was fine, then said with a smile, "Eldest Sister, you simply haven’t been pushed to that point. That warrior Suo Da wasn’t just insulting me—he was insulting you, Empress Zhang, and all the women of Great Yu present. I was so enraged I lost my senses and acted on impulse. Now that I’ve calmed down, my teeth are chattering with fear."

This wasn’t mere modesty. Just like that night when she fought back against that demon, she had been terrified afterward. Though her actions today felt justified in the heat of the moment, in hindsight, they left her uneasy.

With genuine gratitude, Shen Anning added, "Thanks to Empress Zhang intervening earlier. Otherwise, I might have faced serious consequences."

As she spoke, remembering how the Empress had defended her, Shen Anning grew serious and asked Wan’er, "By the way, Wan’er, when I went to pay my respects to Empress Zhang earlier, I noticed she seemed rather weary. Has Her Majesty been well lately?"

She inquired about Empress Zhang’s well-being with subtle concern.

At the mention of the Empress, Zhang Wan’s smile froze. After a moment, she glanced around cautiously and sighed, her face filled with concern. "Eldest Sister hasn’t had an easy time in the palace lately."

She said quietly, "Noble Consort Luo is pregnant."

Those few words hit Shen Anning like a ton of bricks, leaving her stunned.

Noble Consort Luo—pregnant?

She had no memory of this in her past life.

It wasn’t that she had made a point of noticing Empress Zhang or Noble Consort Luo before, but just before this hunt, Shen Anning had recalled something: in her past life, it was around this event that Empress Zhang and the Emperor of Wei became estranged, and not long after, the Empress was banished to the cold palace.