As the gate to Cheng Jiao-niang’s residence closed, Zhou Liu-lang, holding the reins of his horse, turned to glance back.
“Let’s go,” Qin Shi’san-lang called from inside the carriage, already seated. “Don’t worry—she’s fine.”
“Who’s worried?” Zhou Liu-lang snorted and shot him a look. “Then why did you rush over here?”
“I’m not worried,” Qin Shi’san-lang replied with a smile. “I’m just… uneasy.”
With that, he gave a chuckle, raised his whip, and urged the horse forward.
This time, upon returning home, he didn’t unexpectedly run into his mother along the way—instead, he was summoned directly.
Another doctor, brought in from who knows where, gave him a full checkup. He was subjected to a round of nagging about what he could and couldn’t eat, and after all that, finished a bowl of tea.
Qin Shi’san-lang turned to look at his mother.
Madam Qin was still smiling as she studied him intently.
“Mother, haven’t you stared long enough?” he said, setting down his teacup.
“Not at all,” Madam Qin replied with a laugh.
“Sixteen years, and you still haven’t had your fill?” Qin Shi’san-lang snorted. “That line might work on Father, but no one else would believe it.”
Madam Qin giggled.
“Sixteen years, and this is the first time I’ve seen you in a bad mood. Of course I can’t get enough,” she said, still laughing.
“When have I been unhappy?” Qin Shi’san-lang said, forcing a faint smile.
Madam Qin reached out, playfully tapping her son’s forehead, eyebrows, and chest—
“Here, here, and here…” she teased with a laugh.
Qin Shi’san-lang stood up abruptly.
“Mother, enough,” he said, frowning slightly and raising his voice just a touch. “I’m not a child anymore!”
The room fell silent.
This was likely the first time anyone had ever heard Qin Shi’san-lang speak in such a tone. Madam Qin’s eyes widened slightly, her hand frozen mid-air, while the maids stared at him in shock.
“Our Shi’san has learned to lose his temper?” Madam Qin chuckled, fanning herself lightly.
The atmosphere in the room quickly returned to normal.
Qin Shi’san-lang let out a sigh.
“Before, I wasn’t a normal person—I just pretended to be one. But now that I am normal, why keep up the act?” He snorted, flicking his sleeve. “If I’m unhappy, of course I’ll show it.”
Madam Qin covered her mouth in laughter.
“Indeed! When forced by circumstances, one does what one must. When faced with the inevitable, one yields to it. Our Shi’san has always been the cleverest.” She smiled warmly, reaching out a hand. “Come, let your mother take a good look at the real, normal Shi’san-lang. I truly can’t get enough of you!”
Qin Shi’san-lang didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Flicking his sleeve, he turned and walked out.
Waving away the servant who moved to assist him, he strolled slowly along the path, the smile fading from his face.
“In truth, I was overthinking it from the start,” he murmured to himself, then shook his head with a wry chuckle.
Hadn’t it always been this way? Whether anger or worry, those emotions belonged to others—while she, the one who stirred it all, remained an amused spectator. In the end, who was the actor, and who was the audience?
For most women, the status of their husband’s family and the character of their spouse were life-defining matters. But for a woman like her, who could overturn matters of life and death with a flick of her wrist—what significance did marriage hold?
Born into such a family, afflicted since childhood, orphaned by her mother and abandoned by her father—hadn’t she still thrived?
When forced by circumstances, one does what one must. When faced with the inevitable, one yields to it…
Qin Shi’san-lang came to a halt.
No matter the adversity, she always ensured she lived well.
Yet… why did his heart ache so?
“Young Master?”
The attendant at his side, seeing him stand motionless for so long, assumed he was weary from walking and cautiously stepped forward to offer support.
Qin Shi’san suddenly turned around.
The attendant startled, staring at his master in surprise.
“This shouldn’t be,” Qin Shi’san said.
“Young Master, what shouldn’t be?” the attendant asked, bewildered.
“Yes, it shouldn’t,” Qin Shi’san repeated, striding forward.
His pace was quicker than usual, his steps almost unsteady. The attendant, unsure what had happened, hurried after him in alarm.
At this moment, Zhou Liu-lang had just stepped through his family’s gates.
“Well?”
Master Zhou, who had long been waiting impatiently, immediately pressed for answers.
Zhou Liu-lang gave a noncommittal hum.
“What does ‘hmm’ mean?” Master Zhou asked, puzzled.
“It means… it’s fine. Everything’s settled,” Zhou Liu-lang muttered, lowering his head as he prepared to take his leave.
Master Zhou stopped him.
“Wait, wait,” he said, beckoning his son closer. “Come in and explain—how is it ‘fine’?”
Zhou Liu-lang sat down with a sullen air.
“Everyone was satisfied, so the matter is resolved,” he said.
For a moment, Master Zhou didn’t quite grasp the meaning, but his wife, with a woman’s intuition, immediately understood.
“Ah! So she actually took a liking to that young master of the Wang family?” she asked in surprise.
“You mean Jiao Jiao has agreed to this marriage arrangement?” Master Zhou finally caught on, widening his eyes in astonishment.
Who knew what exactly had caught her fancy…
Zhou Liu-lang gave another noncommittal hum.
Master Zhou’s face froze in shock. He stroked his beard absently, at a loss for words.
“That Wang family… is it really that remarkable?” he murmured to himself.
“Since she’s taken a liking to him, we needn’t worry anymore,” Madam Zhou said cheerfully, as if a great burden had been lifted. “That young master of the Wang family isn’t bad-looking, and he seems a bit simple-minded—clearly someone who’s been spoiled at home. For someone like that, Jiao Jiao will have no trouble managing him. And if she can manage him, wouldn’t that mean she’d have the entire Wang family in her grasp…?”
She clapped her hands delightedly.
“This match is truly perfect. Jiao Jiao is so clever—of course she’d agree.”
Best of all, the Wang family was from the south. Once married, she’d leave the capital soon enough.
“What a pity,” Master Zhou muttered, stroking his beard with a frown.
“Pity what? All daughters must marry sooner or later,” Madam Zhou said.
“Such talent… married off to another family?” Master Zhou frowned, his gaze drifting pointedly—or perhaps unintentionally—toward Zhou Liu-lang.
Zhou Liu-lang’s body stiffened abruptly, his hands on his knees clenching into fists, his heart pounding like a drum.
Madam Zhou followed her husband’s gaze and was startled. She reached out to swat Master Zhou’s arm.
“There’s nothing to be done—Jiao Jiao has set her heart on him,” she said.
“Why didn’t she take a liking to you?” Master Zhou couldn’t help asking, still studying his son. “You’re no worse than that Wang boy, are you? And our family—needless to say—is far superior to the Wangs. So why didn’t she fancy you?”
Zhou Liu-lang’s face flushed crimson. He stood up and turned to leave without a word.
“What nonsense are you spouting? Of course our Liu-lang is better than that fellow, but if Jiao Jiao doesn’t fancy him, what can we do?” Madam Zhou said hastily, her expression torn between forced cheer and nervousness. “Don’t go meddling and mismatching people! She’s chosen that Wang boy—don’t you dare stir trouble and anger her… No matter how fine our Liu-lang is, she hasn’t taken to him. If she hasn’t, she just hasn’t. After all this time together, if she were going to fancy him, she would have long since…”
Zhou Liu-lang quickened his pace, trying to outrun his parents’ words, yet their voices clung to him like a shadow.
She doesn’t fancy our Liulang…
If she hasn’t, she just hasn’t…
After all this time together, if she were going to fancy him, she would have long since…
She just doesn’t…
The young man broke into a run. Two young ladies coming his way barely had time to dodge, nearly stumbling as they scrambled aside.
“What’s wrong with Sixth Brother?” one of them grumbled, turning to watch the fleeing figure. “Did someone hit him? He looks like he’s about to cry.”
“Who’d dare hit him—” the other began.
Before she could finish, Zhou Liu-lang, who had just dashed past, suddenly came sprinting back the same way.
“Young Master!”
The two ladies barely avoided another near-collision, steadying themselves indignantly as they shouted after him.
But Zhou Liu-lang had already vanished into the distance.
“He must be rushing off to fight someone—did you see that murderous look on his face?”
At the Yudai Bridge, Zhou Liu-lang leapt off his horse before it had even come to a full stop, ready to charge straight through the gates—only to see a carriage already parked at the entrance.
Qin Shi’san’s carriage…
Why is this guy here again?!
The gate was half-open, and the servant boy lounging beside the gatehouse was muttering under his breath.
“…Here again… Does he think this place is his own home?”
Before he could finish his grumbling, another figure strode in.
“You—” Jing Ge’er’s eyes widened.
Zhou Liu-lang shot him a glare and marched straight inside. His gaze immediately landed on Cheng Jiao-niang and Qin Shi’san-lang sitting across from each other in the main hall.
“…What I want to say is—I hope you won’t agree to this marriage proposal,” Qin Shi’san-lang said.
“You… want to say?” Cheng Jiao-niang looked at him, a faint smile playing on her lips as she asked.
Qin Shi’san-lang also smiled.
“Yes. I—what I want to say is that I am meddling in your personal affairs,” he nodded, acknowledging. “I know this marriage arrangement is nothing difficult for you to handle. Parental orders and matchmaker’s words—it’s all as it should be. Just like how you were born with an affliction, an inevitability beyond your control. Just like how you have the Cheng family as kin—something you couldn’t choose, couldn’t refuse, and had no choice but to accept.”
Zhou Liu-lang halted in the courtyard, watching the scene inside.
“You see, all these things are considered inevitable and unchangeable. For anyone else, merely surviving would be difficult, yet you, Miss, have managed to live well despite them,” Qin Shi’san-lang continued. “So, this marriage arrangement shouldn’t be a significant matter for you. Moreover, I believe you aren’t agreeing under coercion or out of helplessness, and I trust you’ll continue to live well after the marriage.”
Cheng Jiao-niang nodded.
“Naturally,” she replied.
“But even so,” Qin Shi’san-lang said, “I still don’t wish for it to happen.”
Cheng Jiao-niang looked at him, but Qin Shi’san-lang fell silent for a moment.
“Miss, why must you always face inevitabilities?” he said. “Why must you strive for smooth outcomes in such constrained circumstances? Why can’t you attain carefree ease in untroubled situations?”
Cheng Jiao-niang smiled faintly.
“That… is likely fate,” she replied.
“You believe in fate?” Qin Shi’san-lang asked.
Cheng Jiao-niang nodded.
“I do,” she said.
“So do I,” Qin Shi’san-lang also nodded.
Then what more was there to say between two who both believed in fate?
Under the corridor, the maid, Ban Qin, and in the courtyard, Zhou Liu-lang, frowned slightly as they watched, forgetting even to announce themselves or speak.
“Since you entrust the matter of whom to marry—and what kind of person to marry—to fate without concern,” Qin Shi’san-lang said, “then aside from the Wang family, others may also propose to you. As for which family it ultimately will be, let Heaven decide.”
Cheng Jiao-niang looked at him and smiled again.
“Then… are there other families?” she asked.
“I’ve thought of this in haste and haven’t yet carefully considered,” Qin Shi’san-lang replied, pausing briefly. “In truth, your maternal Zhou family—cousin marriage, kin binding kin—would be most suitable…”
In the courtyard, Zhou Liu-lang clenched his fists.
“…However, you don’t fancy Zhou Liu-lang…” Qin Shi’san-lang continued.
Zhou Liu-lang’s face flushed crimson, his eyes blazing. Pah! If you think she doesn’t fancy me, does she fancy you instead?
“Then… what do you think of me?” Qin Shi’san-lang said.
This shameless brat!
Zhou Liu-lang glared, nearly choking on his outrage.
All that rambling earlier—was it just to lead up to this one line?!
