Qian Jiaoniang froze a moment, then had the guards help the girl up. She saw that the young woman wore no rouge, her skin dark, her lips thick, her eyes carrying a desperate resolve. Yet her trembling hands clutched a piece of brocade. Qian Jiaoniang chuckled lightly: “You’re a reckless girl. I said I wanted a fine cloth, naturally whatever is delivered will be looked at. You could have sent it to the deputy prefect’s office—why dash out to block my carriage? Do you not want your life?”
The girl blurted: “Precisely because the deputy prefect’s office would not take my family’s cloth, this humble girl had no choice but to do this!”
A flicker of light crossed Qian Jiaoniang’s eyes. She said gently, “Then there must have been some misunderstanding. Hand me the cloth, and when I return I will look at it carefully.”
Yanluo went down to take the bolt of brocade from the girl’s hands. Qian Jiaoniang asked, “What is your name?”
“Ah You, of the Chen family.”
“Good, I’ll remember you. But never block a carriage again—no silk is worth more than a life.”
Miss Chen You blushed at the gentle rebuke. She had already prepared herself for fifty strokes for daring to stop a noble’s carriage, but the Madam of the land spoke so kindly. “This humble girl admits her fault. Only, the brocade is my life—so the two are of equal weight.”
Even at a distance, Qian Jiaoniang could see the determination in Chen You’s eyes. She could not help looking at her a moment longer, then nodded. “I understand. I’ve taken the cloth—go back home now.”
Yanluo reentered the carriage and shut the door. The driver cracked his whip, and the onlookers quickly made way.
***
That evening Xing Muzheng returned, just as the sun sank. Qian Jiaoniang had just bathed and came out, meeting him at the doorway. She froze, a flash of guilty conscience flickering across her face before she raised her lips in a smile: “My lord is back.”
Xing Muzheng did not overlook that fleeting guilt. He seized her at once, pressing close to her skin, catching the coolness on her body. His face darkened instantly. “You bathed in cold water again?”
Qian Jiaoniang had gonghan illness; the doctors had told her to avoid raw, cold, or chilled things, and to stay away from cold water. But every summer she feared the heat. In the past, drenched in sweat, the quickest relief was a bucket of cold water poured over herself. Xing Muzheng, however, treated the doctor’s words as imperial decree and would not allow it no matter how she argued. Qian Jiaoniang had more or less yielded, but today the heat was unbearable. After going out, she couldn’t resist the lure of cold water. Seizing the chance while Xing Muzheng was away, she’d bathed quickly. Unexpectedly, he came back early and caught her.
“I—I mean, in this weather, cold water and hot water feel the same…” Qian Jiaoniang stammered, only to be dragged off by the black-faced Xing Muzheng. “Disobedient.”
Moments later, Qian Jiaoniang was dumped into the warm spring pool. She came up dripping, glaring balefully at Xing Muzheng towering over her.
“I already bathed!”
“Who told you to bathe? You’ll stay in here two quarters of an hour.”
Xing Muzheng ordered coldly. He stripped down, leapt into the cold spring nearby, washed his hair with a few casual scrubs, and climbed back out. Every day the bathhouse was stocked with fresh clothes for the masters’ use. Xing Muzheng pulled on a plain silk under-robe. Drops of water trailed down from his neck over his firm chest. His black hair, long enough to reach his waist, now hung loosely over his shoulders in disarray, making him look far less severe than usual, almost languid. He toweled his wet hair while sitting on the bamboo couch, watching like a foreman overseeing labor as Qian Jiaoniang’s head alone poked out of the steaming spring.
Qian Jiaoniang had originally been somewhat jealous that he could openly soak in the cold spring, but when she saw him staring at her, she felt a little uneasy. This man truly had a fine appearance—especially when he was disheveled like this. She slowly sank herself a little deeper into the water. “I want to come out.”
“It’s not yet time,” Xing Muzheng said mercilessly.
“I’m sweating.”
“Not yet time.” The man was impervious to reason.
Qian Jiaoniang ground her teeth and silently edged backward.
The hot spring pool was quiet for a while, only the gurgle of water flowing from the beast-head spout could be heard. Xing Muzheng casually rubbed his hair for a bit, then tossed the cloth aside. “Today you went to look at the Ruan family’s cloth. How was it?”
Qian Jiaoniang’s face was faintly visible through the mist. “Not as expected.”
Xing Muzheng didn’t show much disappointment. “Mm.”
“But… I did run into something interesting today.”
Xing Muzheng propped up his hand, listening attentively.
“A girl blocked my carriage, wanting to present me her cloth.”
“Blocked your carriage?”
“Mm, right in the middle of the street, risking her life to rush out.”
To block Jiaoniang’s carriage for the sake of offering cloth? “An outsider?”
“A local. She said the deputy prefect’s office wouldn’t take her cloth.”
Xing Muzheng fell silent for a while. “That is indeed interesting.” He paused. “I’ll ask around tomorrow.”
Qian Jiaoniang knew he had understood. What she had said publicly was that anyone willing to offer cloth could deliver it to the deputy prefect’s office. Why was it that her family’s cloth, and only hers, was not accepted? There was definitely something fishy. “This girl’s surname is Chen. Among the cloth samples she sent, there’s a calling card from her household. If you want it, I’ll give it to you later.”
“Mm. And what do you think of her family’s cloth?” If they had such confidence, was it a hidden gem covered in dust?
But Qian Jiaoniang said, “Not necessarily very good.”
Xing Muzheng raised his brows. “Then is this girl simply ignorant and presumptuous, sending it out at random?”
Qian Jiaoniang smiled. “It may not be top-notch, but it had an unexpected charm.”
“Oh? What kind of surprise?”
“It’s hard to put into words. When we return to the room, I’ll show it to you—may I come out now?”
Xing Muzheng remained stern. “Still a bit longer.”
Qian Jiaoniang flicked some water in irritation. Why did she have to be so unlucky today, catching him returning early? She was about to be cooked alive! With nothing else to do, she soaked a little longer before finding another topic. “Has there been any new word from the people you sent to investigate the branch of the Xing family in Jiazhou?”
“Not much, but as for my third uncle, Xing Yanan, there is some news.”
“What news?”
Xing Muzheng lay back on the green bamboo bed. “This Third Uncle of mine was originally a licentiate, later even made it to the metropolitan examination, served as county magistrate of Kuan County. But after only half a year he resigned and returned to the village.”
“Why?” Qian Jiaoniang grew curious.
“I heard that at the time there was a case. A young wife in a landlord’s household died. A servant came forward confessing, saying he had had illicit relations with her, that when she resisted he killed her. He even produced the murder weapon. But my Third Uncle insisted it was the husband who killed her. Yet that family had some local prestige, and connections in both prefecture and county. The matter was quietly dropped. Not long after, my Third Uncle resigned from office, saying such a useless post wasn’t worth holding.”
“He sounds like an upright official,” Qian Jiaoniang said. “But who did kill that young wife in the end?”
“I brought back the case files. Do you want to take a look?”
“Sure. Then can I get out now?”
Xing Muzheng flipped over from the bamboo bed, crouched by the hot spring, and held out his hand to her. “Come up.”
“… No need to trouble yourself, I can manage. If Lord Marquis has business, please go on ahead.”
“What business would I have now that I’m back? Let me see if your back is warm enough.” Xing Muzheng’s expression was extremely serious.
If it wasn’t warm now, she might as well be pigskin. They were already an old married couple, so Qian Jiaoniang swallowed her embarrassment, extended her slender arm, and Xing Muzheng pulled hard, hauling her out of the spring with a loud splash. He caught her in his arms, pressing her against his burning chest, his hand resting at her lower back.
Qian Jiaoniang secretly sucked in a breath. “I need a cloth to dry off, otherwise I’ll get chilled again…” Before she could finish, she suddenly felt the world spin. In the blink of an eye, she was pressed onto the green bamboo bed, and Xing Muzheng was on top of her, sealing her lips with a fierce kiss.
Qian Jiaoniang flushed and smacked at him. “I’m still wet!”
Xing Muzheng muttered against her lips, “I’ll make you hotter in a moment.”
“I don’t want—another bath!”
“I’ll bathe you myself.” Momentarily bewitched, the man lost control again, pressing down on his wife in another bout of madness.
