Sure enough, thunder rumbled continuously, but no rain ever fell. The sky gradually darkened, and two horses galloped toward them from ahead.
An old servant poked his head out and watched as the two riders exchanged a few words with the steward leading the Zhou household. That steward then turned his horse toward Cheng Jiao-niang’s carriage.
“Miss, because of the bad weather, the post station ahead is already full—there are no more rooms, not even floor space,” Steward Cao reported.
The carriage curtain was lifted.
“If there’s no place to stay, then let’s keep going,” Cheng Jiao-niang said.
Steward Cao responded with a prompt “Yes,” passing down the order without the slightest hesitation.
It had always been this way…
The old servant focused his gaze on Steward Cao up ahead, then turned his eyes to Cheng Jiao-niang’s carriage.
It had always been this way—everything was decided by this lady.
Take this departure from the capital, for instance. When they suggested bringing this lady back with them, it had only been a test. They had thought that the Zhou family would either stubbornly refuse to let the fool go, or hurriedly send him off just to be rid of the burden. But neither outcome came to pass. Whether they left or not didn’t seem to be something the Zhou family had any say in.
He suddenly recalled the sound of a man crying that day, when he stood outside Cheng Jiao-niang’s courtyard.
He hadn’t thought much of it at the time, but now that he remembered… the only man in that courtyard had been Master Zhou.
Master Zhou… crying in front of that young lady?
The idea was so absurd that the old servant felt he must be going mad to even entertain it.
But if not that—then how else could it be explained?
Just look at the Zhou household’s servants—how they treated Cheng Jiao-niang throughout the journey. One could tell right away how the Zhou family viewed her.
Cherished, close? Not quite. More accurately—revered.
It would be understandable to treat a niece with affection and care, but reverence? Where did that come from?
And what about the Princess’s residence from the Qin family who came to see her off, and the crowd that had gathered on Lantern Festival night on Heavenly Street? Perhaps it wasn’t the Zhou family who had gained recognition and attention because of their own merit.
On the contrary—it was quite possible that because of her, the Zhou family had even secured a place on Heavenly Street.
Because of her?!
A spark went off in the old servant’s mind—he froze in place.
Could it be… her?
Instinctively, he reached out to grab the nearest Zhou family attendant.
“Your…” he began to say.
Before he could finish, a loud voice shouted over him, drowning out his words.
“What?!”
Hearing someone outside the carriage relaying the order to continue traveling, Wang Shi’qi-lang yanked open the curtain and glared out.
“We’re still going? Weren’t we supposed to stop at the post station?”
“Young Master Wang, the post station ahead is full—there’s no space left,” replied a Zhou family attendant, with barely any respect in his tone, even a hint of disdain.
This young master had been whining the entire journey—picking at his food and clothes, complaining when the ride was too fast that it jostled him, and when it was too slow, griping about having to sleep outdoors. They all began to feel like their lady was the true man of the group, and the one they were escorting—this Wang family young master—was a delicate little miss…
Sure enough, no sooner had the words left the attendant’s mouth than the Wang family’s little miss let out a shrill scream.
“Full? How could it be full? I’ve got money—how could an post station turn away someone with money?” he shouted. “How miserly! Just throw a wad of cash and plenty of people would gladly take the money and give up their rooms. I have money! I’ve got money to buy comfort! It’s not like I’m asking you to pay, so what are you acting poor for?!”
As he ranted, he slapped the carriage wall and kept yelling for the old servant.
“Money! Bring the money! Go and book out the whole damn post station for me!”
The old servant looked slightly embarrassed.
“Young master, please… speak calmly,” he urged in a low voice.
“How am I supposed to speak calmly? What’s there to talk about?” Wang Shi’qi-lang shouted, half-standing inside the carriage and pointing ahead. “Stop! I said stop!”
Although everyone in the caravan turned to look at him, the convoy didn’t slow down. The coachman of Cheng Jiao-niang’s carriage simply pretended not to hear.
“So noisy,” Cheng Jiao-niang said, putting down the book in her hands. “Let’s stop.”
Ban Qin quickly lifted the curtain and relayed the order. The coachman pulled on the reins and brought the carriage to a halt.
“Young Master Wang, what are you trying to do now?” Ban Qin asked as she got down from the carriage.
“I’m going to the post station up ahead to stay the night,” Wang Shi’qi-lang said. “The weather’s bad and it’s getting dark—if we keep going, do you think we’ll find anywhere else to stay?”
“It won’t rain,” Cheng Jiao-niang said, smiling as she looked at him. “And we can camp in the open.”
Camp in the wild?
“Are you crazy? There’s a perfectly good post station and you’d rather sleep outside? You’re a real fool!” Wang Shi’qi-lang shouted. “I’m not sleeping in the wilderness and getting dragged off by wolves!”
“There’s no need to argue about it,” Cheng Jiao-niang replied calmly. “Besides, sometimes… people are far more dangerous than wolves.”
Typical woman—always avoiding trouble and refusing to take charge.
Wang Shi’qi-lang spat on the ground.
“What do you know! I make the decisions here,” he shouted. “I am staying at the post station! If you won’t listen, then go on your own!”
If he’d known bringing this girl along would be such a pain, he never would’ve agreed to it.
Hearing those words, the old servant’s heart gave a nervous thump.
But the girl ahead of him didn’t spur her horse forward.
“Since we agreed to travel together, how could I go back on my word?” Cheng Jiao-niang said, looking at Wang Shi’qi-lang.
Oh ho—was that a plea? Was she trying to guilt-trip him with big principles now?
So just because he agreed to take her home, he couldn’t go back on it and leave her behind?
That’s the problem with these picture-perfect beauties—they’re so stiff, even when they’re trying to plead. A line like that should really be said with tears in her eyes to have the proper effect.
“Fine, I’ll let it go this time. But if you keep acting up and making decisions on your own, don’t blame me for being rude!” Wang Shi’qi-lang huffed.
He glanced over and caught Steward Cao from the Zhou family giving him a look.
“What are you staring at?” he snapped irritably.
What kind of look was that—so weird and creepy!
Steward Cao gave a small smile and looked away.
“And another thing—a woman shouldn’t be riding at the front, taking it upon herself to make all the decisions along the way,” Wang Shi’qi-lang went on. “Go to the back—I’ll lead from the front.”
With that, he urged his carriage forward and indeed passed Cheng Jiao-niang, taking the lead.
Ban Qin looked over at Cheng Jiao-niang.
“It’s not a big deal,” Cheng Jiao-niang said with a shake of her head, motioning for her to get back on.
Ban Qin smiled and climbed into the carriage.
The old servant, a bit flustered, quickly hurried the Wang household’s people to catch up.
“Just because he’s in front, does that mean he knows where he’s going?”
He overheard a Zhou family servant mutter with a laugh.
“That fool is ridiculous!”
“Lady Cheng really spoils him too much!”
That was going too far—unbearable, in fact. The old servant turned sharply and glared at the servant, eyes full of warning.
The servant glared right back, unafraid.
Their horses passed by each other in silence.
The convoy moved on.
The old servant suddenly let out a sigh.
“We really should’ve hired our own escort,” he said. “That way, even if someone tried to leave us behind, we wouldn’t have to worry…”
A nearby attendant let out a puzzled sound and turned to look at him, confused.
“Steward Gu, who left who behind?” he asked in surprise.
The old servant gave him a glance but said nothing.
“If you ask me, my lady, you’re being far too polite,” Steward Cao chimed in, curling his lip. “That kind of person…”
The words slipped out before he realized—then he remembered: that kind of person was Cheng Jiao-niang’s fiancé, supposedly someone she herself had approved of. Insulting the fiancé would be no different from insulting her.
Steward Cao gave a couple of awkward coughs, a flicker of panic flashing across his face.
Can’t you ever learn? In front of this lady, less talking and more listening—just do as you’re told! Why run your mouth?
“…About that post station,” he quickly pivoted, “I’ll go on ahead and make arrangements.”
Only after hearing a soft “Mm” from inside the carriage did he spur his horse and ride ahead.
“Miss, your temper is really quite good these days,” Ban Qin said with a smile.
Cheng Jiao-niang leaned against the armrest and glanced at her.
“Was I not before?” she asked with a faint smile.
The way the Cheng family treated her, the way the Zhou family treated her, how Zhou Liu-lang used to throw tantrums and make a scene… hadn’t she always faced it all with calm?
Compared to all that, this Young Master from the Wang family really wasn’t much of a problem.
Ban Qin gave an awkward laugh.
Maybe it was just that no one had dared to treat her this way for a long time—so now that someone suddenly did, it felt a bit hard to get used to.
“You feel anger and resentment toward him because you had expectations,” Cheng Jiao-niang said. “You believed he should act a certain way, and not another. But what reason is there to assume the world owes you kindness?”
Ban Qin stared blankly for a moment, then slowly nodded.
That’s right—she just thought Young Master Wang should treat her mistress better… but why should he have to?
Young Master Wang had no real connection to her mistress—only a not-yet-finalized engagement on paper. Compared to the Zhou and Cheng families, he neither owed them anything nor was bound to them in any real way…
“On the contrary,” Cheng Jiao-niang continued, “in this world, other people’s ill will is the norm. So don’t waste your thoughts on why someone treats you a certain way—get used to it. Whether others like me or not, treat me well or not… what does it matter?”
She picked up the scroll resting on the table before her.
“As long as it doesn’t get in my way.”
And if it did—well, that would be a different matter.
Ban Qin smiled and nodded.
“You truly see things clearly, Miss,” she said.
Cheng Jiao-niang’s hand holding the book paused for a moment.
“To see clearly like this must have been paid for with blood and tears,” she murmured softly to herself.
Although she still couldn’t fully recall what had happened to her, it certainly hadn’t been anything good.
The blood, tears, and corpses she saw in her dreams…
Forget it—it’s better that way…
“Miss, have some water,” Ban Qin said, handing her a bowl and breaking her reverie.
Cheng Jiao-niang took it and drank slowly.
Not long after setting out, they arrived at the post station.
It was a small post station, and because the sky was gloomy with constant thunder, many people had stopped here to avoid the rain. The post station was packed to capacity—there wasn’t even room to stand in the main hall, let alone find a place to sleep.
“We have money—tell them to give up their rooms,” Wang Shi’qi-lang said, hands on his hips, drawing curious looks from those around.
The old servant quickly signaled for him to drop it and went off to find the postmaster.
It turned out that while money was useful at this post station, it wasn’t the most effective currency. What really mattered here was official warrants—having a warrant meant you could get a room even without money; but having money without one sometimes meant you couldn’t even get a single room.
Soon the old servant returned, head lowered.
“There’s a large dormitory bed that can be freed up,” he said.
A large dormitory bed? Even the Wang family’s servants wouldn’t stay there!
Wang Shi’qi-lang glared.
“That’s all there is. It cost a lot to get ten people to give up their spots,” the old servant explained.
While people murmured over here, Cheng Jiao-niang had already arranged for tents to be set up outside the post station. This embarrassed Wang Shi’qi-lang, so he reluctantly ordered his men to prepare the large dormitory bed.
“Don’t bother with the tents; there are rooms to sleep in,” he said as he came over.
Cheng Jiao-niang sat on the carriage, watching Ban Qin using a clay stove to prepare something, with fragrant smoke wafting through the air.
“That kind of room, I’m not used to sleeping in,” Cheng Jiao-niang said.
Still throwing a tantrum! Wang Shi’qi-lang glared.
“You don’t like rooms, but you’re okay with sleeping in tents out in the wild?” he asked.
“Yes,” Cheng Jiao-niang nodded. “My tent is very nice.”
Wang Shi’qi-lang looked over. He saw what he thought was the carriage holding Cheng Jiao-niang’s specialty gifts from the capital being opened by the Zhou family’s attendants, who were unloading one item after another…
Felt mats, armrest tables, footstools, incense burners, lamps…
They even carried down a low four-legged bed…
A canopy frame…
A dining bed…
And that wasn’t all—they even brought down a folding screen…
A folding screen!
What a joke!
“You brought your whole household with you?” he shouted, glaring. “Did you plan from the start to live in tents all the way?”
“No, it’s just a habit,” Cheng Jiao-niang said.
Indeed, it was just a habit.
Not to mention now—back when they had stumbled out of the temple in Bing–zhou with no money at all, Miss had never compromised on food, drink, or shelter.
She could endure bad and miserable conditions, but when she had the means, she would never settle for less.
“Miss, have some snacks,” Ban Qin said, holding out a small dish.
The golden-browned dumplings on the white porcelain plate looked especially tempting.
Cheng Jiao-niang took the dish.
“I’m tired and need to eat something. Young Master, please understand,” she said, offering a polite apology with a bow.
Wang Shi’qi-lang snorted.
Even when it comes to eating, she has to act all proper!
“Wait, have them prepare a meal,” he said, turning away while muttering a complaint under his breath, “Taking a woman on a trip is such a hassle!”
Watching Wang Shi’qi-lang stride away without looking back, Steward Cao, who had been standing quietly nearby, couldn’t help but mutter “fool” under his breath.
“Miss, should we wait for Young Master Wang’s arrangements, or…” he asked respectfully.
“The cooks here don’t know how to prepare this,” Cheng Jiao-niang said.
“In that case, I’ll send someone to the kitchen to buy some meat and vegetables,” Steward Cao quickly replied.
Cheng Jiao-niang nodded.
Steward Cao ordered the attendants to set up a fire and bury the pots, then hurried several servants to the kitchen with money in hand.
Wang Shi’qi-lang went into the hall, but in no time jumped back out. There was no way to even stand inside, let alone sit down to eat.
Inside, many weary travelers—old, weak, women, and children—were crowded together, filling the air with an unpleasant smell.
Wang Shi’qi-lang covered his nose and reluctantly backed out.
“Young Master, there are too many people. The post station said the kitchen can only prepare steamed buns and pickled vegetables,” the old servant came over and whispered.
This was undoubtedly adding insult to injury. Wang Shi’qi-lang instantly flew into a rage.
No place to stay, no proper food to eat—wasn’t this just making him look ridiculous in front of that lady?
“Give them money, give them money…” he shouted. Halfway through, someone cleared their throat behind him.
“Young master.”
Wang Shi’qi-lang turned his head, and the old servant also looked back. They saw four or five men standing behind them—one man of about forty with a kindly expression, while the other four were dressed as soldiers, looking worn and dusty, speaking with a capital accent.
“What do you want?” Wang Shi’qi-lang asked.
“I heard you still have a large dormitory bed?” the leader asked.
“No matter how much you offer, I won’t give it up!” Wang Shi’qi-lang replied firmly. What a joke—did they think he was some beggar who hadn’t seen money before?
“We have an official warrant,” the man said with a slight smile.
An official warrant?
Wang Shi’qi-lang didn’t care what that was, but fortunately the old servant quickly held him back, preventing him from spitting in the man’s face.
“Sir, since you have an official warrant, you can get better rooms,” the old servant said with a smile. “There’s no need to make things difficult for us—traveling is hard enough already.”
As he spoke, he pulled out a handful of money and offered it to the man.
The man smiled and pushed it back.
“You misunderstand, young master. That’s not what I meant,” he said.
Then what did he mean?
Wang Shi’qi-lang frowned.
“We see that you seem to be struggling with food and lodging, so we thought maybe we could all cooperate,” the man said with a smile.
