The post station gradually settled into stillness.
The moon was bright, the stars sparse.
Duke Jin’an looked up and saw a girl standing beneath the second-floor corridor ahead.
The autumn night wind carried a slight chill, and she wore a crimson cloak. Under the brilliant moonlight, it fluttered with the evening breeze, as if she were an immortal ready to ride the wind away at any moment.
“What are you looking at?” Duke Jin’an asked as he went upstairs and approached.
Without waiting for her reply, he continued his questions.
“How much have you eaten? Did you manage to rest for a while? Are you sleeping well here?”
His inquiries were not meant to demand answers but rather to express his concern.
Cheng Jiao-niang smiled faintly and pointed toward the night sky.
“Looking at the sky,” she said.
The sky?
Duke Jin’an also looked up.
Unlike yesterday’s wild winds, torrential rain, and gloomy darkness, the clear night sky was vast and boundless, with stars scattered like jewels across it.
“I ate a bowl of rice. After washing up, I rested for a while. The bedding I used was brought from home, so I’m sleeping comfortably.”
She answered his earlier questions earnestly.
Duke Jin’an turned to look at her and laughed heartily, reaching out to draw her into an embrace.
“Me too,” he said. “I ate a bowl of rice. Even though I didn’t return, during gaps in their conversations, I leaned against the armrest and stole a few moments of sleep.”
Cheng Jiao-niang smiled.
“Moreover, word has already spread throughout the capital, causing quite an uproar. Was this also part of your arrangements?” Duke Jin’an asked.
Cheng Jiao-niang shook her head.
No? Duke Jin’an was somewhat surprised.
“The initial rumors about the bandits were likely arranged by the Gao family,” Cheng Jiao-niang said.
Duke Jin’an nodded and smiled.
This was indeed in line with Gao Lingjun’s meticulous style of handling matters.
“What followed afterward was probably done by Qin Hu,” Cheng Jiao-niang continued. “Even though it wasn’t us who died, someone did lose their life. Everything could still proceed according to plan as long as someone gave these matters a push at the critical moment, thereby setting off a chain reaction. So, to be fair, the credit still lies with the careful preparations made earlier by the Gao family.”
Yet that was precisely what made it most infuriating. Duke Jin’an laughed heartily, but then abruptly stopped.
“Who did you say did it just now?” he asked with a tone of incredulity, as if he had heard an unexpected name.
Cheng Jiao-niang looked at him.
“Qin Hu,” she said. “The son of Academician Qin, the thirteenth son of the Qin family…”
No, no – there was no need for her to explain. He certainly knew Qin Hu.
“I mean… him?” Duke Jin’an asked.
What did this have to do with him? Where did he even come from?
“Last night, you weren’t alone?”
Cheng Jiao-niang nodded.
“We happened to run into each other,” she said.
Happened?
Duke Jin’an wore an astonished expression.
Bumping into someone you know while strolling, drinking, watching performances, traveling, or lodging in a foreign place – that could be called a coincidence.
But running into an acquaintance while involved in murder and arson?
What kind of coincidence was that?
Prearranged, perhaps? Yet if it were prearranged, this woman would never have used the word “coincidence.” Since she said “coincidence,” it truly must have been unplanned.
But hearing it described this way really felt…
Actually, if one wanted an explanation, it was possible.
That Qin Hu…
Of course, he knew him – and remembered him quite clearly.
That young man who once stood shoulder to shoulder with her on the bow of a boat, gentle as jade, his smile radiant.
He had envied many people: the officials’ wives who came to pay respects, able to freely leave the palace and return to their own homes. He had even envied birds that could fly, able to go wherever they wished. But that was only in his childhood. As he grew older, he stopped envying others because he knew that you were you – you would never become someone else.
Yet, in that moment, seated in the luxurious carriage escorted by the imperial guards, he envied that young man so deeply – envied that he could casually go out with her, stand shoulder to shoulder with her, joke and laugh with her freely.
Later, she cured Qin Hu’s leg, and Qin Hu became the most frequent visitor to her home.
On the Imperial Avenue, he accompanied her to admire the lanterns. When the imperial examination results were announced, she specially brewed intoxicating Scholar’s Wine for him.
He even remembered hearing Qin Hu’s name mentioned when he was poisoned, drifting in and out of consciousness, hovering near death.
“Miss and Young Master Qin were together…”
“…they went to admire the lotus flowers…”
A hand patted his arm, and Duke Jin’an snapped back to reality, looking into the pair of eyes gleaming brightly in the night.
“What’s wrong?” Cheng Jiao-niang asked.
“He… came for you, didn’t he?” Duke Jin’an asked, leaning casually against the railing with a relaxed smile.
“No,” Cheng Jiao-niang said. “He came for Young Master Gao. So we happened to run into each other.”
He had come for Young Master Gao, and she had also come for Young Master Gao. So, in that sense, it truly was a coincidence.
But she had a blood feud with Young Master Gao over her brother’s death. What grievance did Qin Hu have with Young Master Gao?
Hadn’t Qin Hu always been on Young Master Gao’s side? The Qin family had never liked him and had always wanted to drive him out of the capital. Last time, when he sought Cheng Jiao–niang’s treatment but missed her by chance – that was a scheme arranged by Qin Hu and the Gao family.
Thinking of this, Duke Jin’an smiled again.
How foolish. Of course, Qin Hu hadn’t acted for himself – he had acted for her.
Qin Hu’s scheme was aimed at him, not at her. And he would never harm Cheng Si–lang. Clearly, he too had been set up by the Gao family.
By orchestrating Cheng Si–lang’s death, they would completely destroy his relationship with her.
Just think – if someone caused him to lose her, that person would undoubtedly be his greatest enemy, a foe who must die.
Qin Hu was connected to Cheng Si–lang’s death, but hadn’t he himself also been involved? If it weren’t to prevent her from saving him, why would the Gao family have killed Cheng Si–lang?
To atone for his own mistake, Qin Hu had personally come to kill Young Master Gao.
And what about him?
Standing safely behind the ruined temple, shielded by her intimidation with a fire lance, knowing she was fighting alone against unknown numbers of enemies – all he could do was wait and wait.
Duke Jin’an abruptly sat up, greeted by the deep darkness of night.
He had forgotten that he and she were already asleep.
The girl beside him lay on her side, sleeping peacefully facing outward.
“Cheng Fang,” he couldn’t help but call out.
Cheng Jiao-niang remained still, deep in sleep.
What was he doing! It was bad enough that he couldn’t be of help, but now he was disturbing her – she was already tired, and here he was waking her.
Duke Jin’an gently lay back down, resting his hands behind his head, eyes wide open as he gazed into the thick darkness within the bed curtains.
During the morning wash, Eunuch Jing couldn’t help but stare at the dark circles under Duke Jin’an’s eyes.
“Bring an extra bowl of nourishing soup,” he whispered to the attendants as he stepped outside.
Who knew what kind of reckless antics had taken place last night.
Eunuch Jing shook his head. Just then, Master Gu also arrived and happened to see Duke Jin’an step out.
“Your Highness, Your Highness,” he hurriedly bowed, his tone tinged with urgency. “How did it go? Have you spoken to Madam? What did she say…”
Just as he mentioned ‘Madam’, Cheng Jiao-niang returned from the backyard, carrying a bow and arrows in her hands.
“Cheng Fang,” Duke Jin’an said as he followed her inside.
This left Master Gu standing outside the door with his words still unfinished, his mouth agape.
“What’s wrong?” Cheng Jiao-niang asked while handing her bow and arrows to Ban Qin to put away.
“I…” Duke Jin’an opened his mouth but didn’t know what to say. “Let me help you wash your hair.”
Ban Qin and Su Xin stared at him in astonishment.
Cheng Jiao-niang smiled faintly.
“That sounds good,” she said.
Hot water was ladled up, and Duke Jin’an, somewhat flustered, carefully poured it over the long hair cascading down.
“Like this… is it right?” he asked.
“As long as it gets clean,” Cheng Jiao-niang replied.
Duke Jin’an relaxed a little more as he continued.
Ban Qin and Su Xin exchanged glances outside the door and smiled.
“Let’s prepare breakfast,” Ban Qin whispered.
Su Xin glanced once more at Duke Jin’an, who appeared somewhat clumsy inside.
“Let’s wait a little while longer,” she said.
“Perhaps this is the only thing I can help you with,” Duke Jin’an said, as if speaking casually. “Others can help you kill, but all I can do is help you wash your hair.”
“You’re wrong,” Cheng Jiao-niang replied, her eyes closed and not looking at him. “First, he wasn’t helping me – he was only helping himself. Second, you’ve misunderstood what helping me means. Helping me means doing what I cannot do on my own, not what you want to do or what you think is helping me.”
“Don’t try to comfort me,” Duke Jin’an said, reaching out to massage her hair.
“I’m not comforting you. Do you even need my comfort?” Cheng Jiao-niang asked, opening her eyes to look at him. “But if we’re talking about help, you’re the one who has helped me the most.”
Here she goes again with sweet talk to placate me…
Duke Jin’an thought to himself, though a smile couldn’t help but curl at the corner of his mouth. He lowered his head, pretending not to hear.
“If it weren’t for you, why would the Gao family have sent people for me to kill?” Cheng Jiao-niang said.
“Oh,” Duke Jin’an put down the ladle in his hand. “So you’re saying I’m the bait.”
Cheng Jiao-niang looked at him and nodded.
Duke Jin’an reached out and gently pinched the tip of her nose.
“Since the bait doesn’t wash hair, that’s beyond my capabilities,” he said. “If we keep washing like this, breakfast will turn into lunch.”
With that, he chuckled and stood up.
“Someone, come in.”
Su Xin and Ban Qin hurried in from outside the door.
“Assist Madam with her washing,” he instructed.
Ban Qin and Su Xin acknowledged the instruction, watching as Duke Jin’an walked out calmly and gracefully. They exchanged another glance and smiled.
Madam always knew how to make His Highness happy.
“Madam, you are the best wife in all the world,” Ban Qin said.
The best wife in all the world…
Cheng Jiao-niang stepped into the bathtub, closed her eyes, and slowly sank into the water.
“Whether I am the best wife or not – what others say is meaningless,” she said. “Only my husband’s words count.”
…
“Your Highness.”
Seeing that Duke Jin’an had finally emerged again, looking refreshed and at ease, Master Gu hurriedly called out to him once more.
Duke Jin’an looked at him with a faint smile.
“What is it?” he asked.
His mood had improved!
Master Gu couldn’t help but smile as well.
“Your Highness,” he said, “did you speak with Madam last night? What did she think? Is there anything that needs to be refined?”
“Speak about what?” Duke Jin’an asked, frowning.
Just then, maids entered carrying trays of food, and inside, Cheng Jiao-niang also stepped out with her attendants. Duke Jin’an raised his hand to stop Master Gu.
“Whatever you have to say, we can discuss it after the meal,” he said, turning to go back inside.
Speak about what? Master Gu stared wide-eyed, his brows furrowed.
“I knew it – they can’t discuss serious matters properly!” he said, turning to Eunuch Jing, who stood nearby with a grin. “You were wrong.” Eunuch Jing chuckled and winked at him. “For His Highness and Madam, the ‘unserious’ matters are the serious ones.”
Before Master Gu could say anything else, a guard hurried in from outside the courtyard.
“An edict from the Empress Dowager,” the guard announced, kneeling and raising his voice.
An edict from the Empress Dowager?
Master Gu and Eunuch Jing’s expressions turned solemn. Footsteps sounded from inside, and Duke Jin’an and Cheng Jiao-niang both stepped out, watching as the stationmaster bowed and hurriedly ushered in the eunuchs carrying the imperial decree.
…
“I cannot accept it.”
Duke Jin’an bowed his head to the ground as he spoke.
Behind him, Cheng Jiao-niang followed suit, kowtowing in respect.
Looking at the two kneeling on the ground, the eunuch delivering the decree wore a faint, ambiguous smile.
“Your Highness, why go to such lengths? Her Majesty is only concerned for you,” he advised. “Please, stop this. Come back with us.”
“Precisely because Her Majesty cares for me, I cannot allow Her Majesty to face criticism,” Duke Jin’an replied, his body still lowered in prostration.
The eunuch then withdrew the imperial decree.
“In that case, I will return to deliver the reply,” he said.
…
“Refuses? Wasn’t he the one who least wanted to leave the capital? How is it that now he dares not return to the capital?”
The Empress Dowager let out a cold laugh.
“What, does he also want to imitate others by declining the decree seven or eight times to flaunt his own righteousness?”
With that, she flicked her sleeve dismissively.
“Deliver the decree again.”
…
The sun shone high over the courier station, but unlike the usual hustle and bustle, imperial guards were now dispersed everywhere. The stationmaster stood under the fierce autumn sun, beads of sweat forming in layers on his forehead.
“How many times is this?” he asked, his voice trembling as he glanced outside the station.
“The third time,” the station attendant replied, his voice also shaking.
Before his words had fully settled, the sound of galloping hooves echoed, and dust billowed on the main road – clearly, another contingent was approaching.
“Make that the fourth time,” the attendant corrected, his voice trembling as he held up four fingers.
“Even appointing a prime minister wouldn’t take more than five or six attempts,” the stationmaster muttered under his breath.
From outside came the sharp, high-pitched announcement: “An edict from the Empress Dowager!”
Inside the room, Duke Jin’an’s face grew increasingly pale with anger. He suddenly stood up.
“Am I truly afraid of her? Fine, let’s go! I want to see if they can beat me to death right in the palace! If she’s willing to disregard all decency, must I cling to it?” he said, stepping forward as if to leave.
Cheng Jiao-niang reached out and took hold of his arm.
“No,” she said. “She may have no regard for face, but you cannot afford to lose yours.”
Duke Jin’an looked at her.
“She is the sovereign, and you are the subject. In matters of face, yours carries greater weight than hers,” Cheng Jiao-niang said. “Besides, it’s not worth gambling with a madwoman.”
“An edict from the Empress Dowager!”
The sharp, piercing call from outside swept through the doors and windows.
“Your resistance now is still partly justified,” Cheng Jiao-niang continued. “But if you resist after entering the palace, you will have no justification left.”
Duke Jin’an looked at her and nodded.
“I understand,” he said, pressing her hand gently. “You don’t need to go out. Having knelt so many times, you must be exhausted and should lie down to rest. I’ll handle the kneeling from now on.”
Cheng Jiao-niang nodded, watching as he walked out.
“I cannot accept it.”
Duke Jin’an spoke, then bowed deeply, his forehead touching the ground.
This time, after the eunuch departed once more, he remained in the courtyard, refusing to rise, kneeling and waiting.
Let’s see how many more times this will happen.
…
The stationmaster stood outside the door, his legs and feet already numb. He raised his hand once more to wipe away the sweat, glanced up at the sky, and noticed the sunlight gradually slanting.
“How long has it been since the last decree was delivered?” he asked.
“Two hours,” the attendant replied.
The previous intervals had been only an hour each. Did this mean it wouldn’t come again?
The stationmaster couldn’t help but press a hand to his chest as he looked toward the main road.
“If he won’t come, I can still have him brought back by force.”
In the palace, the Empress Dowager declared sternly.
“This time, I won’t issue a decree to him. I will issue it to the Imperial Guards.”
“Your Majesty, you must not!”
The voice of Gao Lingjun came from outside the palace hall doors.
Without waiting for an announcement, Gao Lingjun was helped in by two eunuchs and knelt directly at the entrance.
Gao Lingjun, who had previously shown little sign of gray hair, now seemed as though he had aged overnight, his hair turned white, and his appearance suddenly much older.
Besides, in the past, he had never needed eunuchs to support him.
The Empress Dowager’s eyes reddened instantly.
“Quickly, rise, rise,” she said. “Why have you come? You should be resting and recuperating at home.”
Supported by the eunuchs, Gao Lingjun stood and looked at the Empress Dowager.
“Your Majesty, you have already issued eight consecutive decrees. How could I remain seated?” he sighed.
His words carried a tone half of reproach and half of resignation. Like a young girl being scolded, the Empress Dowager could no longer hold back her tears.
“I cannot swallow this injustice,” she said.
