The sound of a girl’s crying came from inside the hall. Duke Jin’an, who had hesitated before coming over, stopped short, his expression once again filled with astonishment.
Crying!
In four or five years of knowing her, this was the first time he had ever heard her cry like this – openly, in great sobs.
What kind of person could make her abandon all restraint and cry so freely?
Unable to resist, Duke Jin’an cautiously leaned forward to take a look.
The doors of the hall were open. Through the gauze curtain, two men could be faintly seen inside. Because they were facing away, their features were unclear. One of them was bent slightly forward – this one Duke Jin’an recognized at once: it was Steward Cao.
As for the other, his clothes were rather worn and old, and he was thin and gaunt. Yet his posture was relaxed, almost casual. The girl was kneeling on the floor facing him, her shoulders heaving as she wept.
It was this man.
Who on earth is this man?
“They say he’s family.”
A low voice spoke by his ear.
Duke Jin’an jumped in surprise and hurriedly straightened up, turning to look at Eunuch Jing beside him.
“What are you sneaking around for?” he hissed, brows drawn together.
Who’s sneaking around…
Eunuch Jing muttered inwardly.
This is your own courtyard, your own house. Your wife is meeting an outside man, and you don’t even dare go in – you’re standing outside peeking instead.
“Your Highness, they say the people are from Jiang-zhou. Since he’s from the Princess Consort’s natal family, you really ought to go in and see him,” he said aloud.
The sound of crying inside the hall continued.
In truth, being able to cry like this was itself a kind of happiness.
Duke Jin’an shook his head.
“Let them talk freely for now. They’ll come to see me in due time,” he said, turning to leave. “I’m going to the outer study.”
Eunuch Jing cast another glance into the courtyard and saw that the girl was still bent low, weeping.
How strange. Was it because she had seen someone from her natal family?
How strange indeed – did she really have someone in her family who could move her so deeply?
Meanwhile, inside the hall, Cheng Ping and Cao Gui also wore rather peculiar expressions.
Cao Gui, a servant by status, stood slightly bent with his head lowered. Cheng Ping, on the other hand, had his hands tucked into his sleeves and gazed about the hall with a lost look on his face, his lips moving faintly, as if murmuring to himself.
Inside the room, Cheng Jiao-niang’s sobbing gradually subsided, and she rose after offering a formal salute.
Ban Qin, who had been wiping away tears beside her, hurriedly stood as well and followed her to the washroom to help her freshen up.
Only then did Cao Gui and Cheng Ping both let out a breath of relief.
“After all, there was no one from her natal family present at her wedding,” Cao Gui suddenly said in a low voice. “Seeing an elder so unexpectedly, it’s only natural for the young lady to feel overwhelmed.”
They had originally been waiting in the outer courtyard for word to be passed in, never expecting Cheng Jiao-niang to come running out herself. The moment she arrived, without a word, she performed a deep bow and then covered her face and burst into tears.
Cheng Ping had been so startled he nearly turned and fled on the spot. Fortunately, Cao Gui was no stranger to such scenes and quietly, without drawing attention, held him back in time.
That wave of grief carried all the way from the outer courtyard into the inner one.
Seeing an elder for the first time? Back in Jiang–zhou, when she first met him, she hadn’t lacked for elders surnamed Cheng – yet hadn’t she cried the moment she saw him all the same?
Because of this face.
Cheng Ping couldn’t help lifting a hand to touch his own face.
After all this time, still like this.
“By seniority, I should call her little aunt,” he gave a dry chuckle and said softly to Cao Gui.
Cao Gui shot him a glare.
“Stop talking nonsense. Letting you count as an elder is doing you a favor,” he said in a low voice. “If I’d known, I wouldn’t have brought you along.”
He had thought that now the young lady was married and living a good life, things wouldn’t be the same as before. He hadn’t expected…
Cao Gui suddenly felt a trace of hesitation, uncertain whether bringing Cheng Ping here had been the right choice or a mistake.
What was right was that the young lady truly did treat Cheng Ping differently.
What was wrong was that the moment she saw Cheng Ping, she became… strange.
Footsteps sounded. Cheng Jiao-niang emerged, her face washed and her makeup reapplied.
Cao Gui hurriedly lowered his head and sat properly.
Inside the room, however, silence fell.
“We had actually set out quite early,” Steward Cao hurriedly began, “but later we found out that Cheng Ping had gone and caused trouble again, so we had to turn back and bring him along. Going back and forth cost us some time.”
“What do you mean, caused trouble?” Cheng Ping said with a frown. “What trouble did I cause?”
Steward Cao turned and glared at him.
“A man died right in front of you – if that’s not trouble you caused, then what is?” he said. “If you hadn’t gone telling him his lifespan was up, would he have dropped dead in front of you from sheer anger?”
Back then you even said our young lady was someone without a destined life – how many people in this world are like her? You go around spouting nonsense to people, and sooner or later you’re bound to stir up trouble.
“He died in front of me because his lifespan had run out,” Cheng Ping said, shaking his head. “How does that make it me who angered him to death?”
Steward Cao widened his eyes, about to retort, but someone spoke before he could.
“So his lifespan was at an end – does that mean that you angering him to death was simply going along with Heaven’s will?” Cheng Jiao-niang asked.
Cheng Ping froze for a moment.
“No,” he said quickly, waving his hands. “No, I truly didn’t anger him to death. His lifespan ending was Heaven’s decree, but that doesn’t mean I could go and anger him to death.”
“If that is Heaven’s decree, then why can’t you?” Cheng Jiao-niang asked.
Why can’t he?
There was no need to ask Cheng Ping – Steward Cao felt he could answer that himself.
Because there was no cause, no grievance, no enmity. How could one kill someone simply because they were destined to die?
See, see – he really shouldn’t have brought Cheng Ping to see the young lady. He should have left him with First Master Cheng to deal with, instead of letting him provoke the young lady into saying such foolish things.
“You mean this?”
Cheng Ping, however, did not answer directly, but spoke with a hint of sudden understanding.
What?
Steward Cao was momentarily taken aback and turned to look at Cheng Ping.
“Of course you can’t – because all things have their Way, and the bringing forth of human morality follows its own measure,” Cheng Ping said with a faint smile.
…
Duke Jin’an lifted the book in his hands once more.
“Your Highness, if you don’t feel like reading, then don’t force yourself,” Eunuch Jing said. Without waiting for a reply, he quickly added, “Your Highness has only just recovered – resting your mind is what matters most.”
Since he couldn’t concentrate on it anyway, all that picking it up and putting it down was just wearisome. Resting his mind would be better.
Duke Jin’an set the book aside.
“Is the banquet properly prepared?” he asked.
“Please rest assured, Your Highness, everything is ready,” Eunuch Jing replied with a smile. “It’s rare for the Princess Consort’s natal family to have such an important relative come calling – no matter what, we can’t afford to slight Your Highness’s dignity.”
Rare that she has someone she truly cares about come…
Duke Jin’an nodded, then shook his head.
“She doesn’t care about face or courtesy that others bestow,” he said. Still, he couldn’t quite hide his curiosity. “…What kind of person is he?”
From his back alone, he looked quite young – probably not much older than Cheng Jiao-niang herself.
“I didn’t look closely – Steward Cao was calling him around so much, I thought he was just one of Madam’s attendants. He’s probably twenty-three or twenty-four, fair-skinned, thin and frail…” Eunuch Jing began, but before he could finish, a junior eunuch came in.
“The Princess Consort has sent someone to see Your Highness.”
Finally, he had arrived.
He still knew a bit of etiquette, at least.
Eunuch Jing thought to himself, while Duke Jin’an nodded in delight.
Su Xin led Cheng Ping inside, and Steward Cao kowtowed at the door.
Sure enough, he was a fair-skinned young man – nothing extraordinary, much like Cheng Si-lang – but he looked far more spirited than Cheng Si-lang, the kind of presence that betrayed someone who had traveled many roads and seen the ways of the world.
“…By seniority, the madam is my little aunt…” Cheng Ping said, performing a formal salute.
By seniority!
Duke Jin’an raised an eyebrow.
Seniority is seniority. You only say “by seniority” when it isn’t really seniority.
Ah – so he’s from the southern Cheng branch.
Duke Jin’an immediately understood.
The southern and northern branches of the Cheng family had long been separated. He hadn’t expected there to be someone who could make her lose her composure.
Cheng Jiao-niang would never show such a lapse in front of Cheng Si-lang – the main line of the southern Cheng family must be a distant branch…
“Where is the banquet set up?” Duke Jin’an asked, pushing the thought aside.
“Madam arranged it in the outer courtyard. I can accompany her myself,” Su Xin quickly replied.
She didn’t even need him to go with her? And she herself wasn’t going to accompany her guest!
Duke Jin’an was a little surprised, but since it was Cheng Jiao-niang’s decision, he said no more, and watched as Cheng Ping performed his farewell salute and withdrew.
Eunuch Jing nodded, a hint of satisfaction in his expression.
So he was a distant relative. Naturally, that wasn’t enough to merit the Duke’s accompaniment. Not just distant relatives – the Cheng family likely only counted Second Master Cheng and First Master Cheng as worthy of the Duke’s attention.
It seemed he wasn’t a particularly important relative after all.
“Your Highness, will you be eating here, or–” he began.
Before he could finish, Duke Jin’an had already walked out.
Nonsense – of course he would! He probably wished he could follow her every moment of the day.
Eunuch Jing lowered his head, pursed his lips, and quickly moved to lift the curtain.
Back in the inner courtyard, Duke Jin’an noticed that even Ban Qin was no longer at his side. He was surprised, yet there was a faint sense of realization.
One could say it wasn’t that he didn’t need to accompany her – but rather, Cheng Ping didn’t need to accompany him.
And in its own way, that was a kind of regard.
“I thought Madam would host him personally,” Ban Qin murmured, glancing toward the hall.
In the guest hall of the outer courtyard, the banquet was set, and the maids and eunuchs came in and out in an orderly stream. In the spacious hall, only Cheng Ping sat there calmly.
“So I get to enjoy such a fine meal all by myself,” he said with a broad, unrestrained smile.
“Steward Cao is on the other side,” Su Xin said with a smile, pouring wine herself. “He wouldn’t dare sit with you.”
Cheng Ping took the cup, smiling.
“Perfect – I can have a relaxed meal. He’s far too talkative,” he chuckled.
No fear, no arrogance – he took it all in stride.
Su Xin smiled and stepped aside.
“Do you know why Madam didn’t host him herself?” she whispered to Ban Qin.
Ban Qin shook her head.
I thought she would have the Duke accompany him… but she hadn’t.
“Because she doesn’t dare,” Su Xin whispered with a laugh. “You didn’t notice – she didn’t even dare look at Cheng Ping, let alone sit with him at the table.”
Duke Jin’an’s gaze fell on Cheng Jiao-niang once more.
She had been crying. Even with her face washed and her makeup reapplied, it couldn’t fully conceal it – but he noticed that subtle change.
It was that absent-minded, distracted change that puzzled him.
“Have you known him since you were little?” he couldn’t help asking.
Cheng Jiao-niang lifted her head, as if she hadn’t heard him. The Duke smiled and asked again, though he already felt a twinge of regret.
He knew her life very well – knew she had been foolish as a child, knew she had left home at a young age. What people could she possibly have known when she was little…
Since she was little?
Cheng Jiao-niang’s expression faltered slightly.
“Yes,” she said.
From the time she couldn’t even walk, she had been carried along, pointed at the portraits in the ancestral hall.
“Ah-Fang, this is our honored ancestor.”
Only the ancestor in the portrait wasn’t shown as a young man, but as a kindly old elder.
A faint smile appeared at the corner of Cheng Jiao-niang’s lips.
Duke Jin’an was stunned by her answer. Then he saw the smile at the corner of her lips, and the brief, soft brightness in her eyes…
No way… really knew him since childhood?!
“Your Highness, they’ve finished eating and wish to take their leave,” Ban Qin said, hurrying in from outside.
Cheng Jiao-niang immediately set down her chopsticks.
“Please ask him to wait. There are some things I wish to say to him,” she said.
Ban Qin quickly responded, raising the curtain. Cheng Jiao-niang rinsed her mouth, wiped the corner of her lips, and hurried out.
The room fell into silence.
Duke Jin’an sat at the table, chopsticks in hand, utterly astonished.
She… actually has things she wants to say to someone!
She… actually smiles when she thinks of someone!
There really is such a person in the world…
Who is this person?!
