What young girl wouldn’t love a handsome and heroic man?
Qian Jiaoniang sat silently in the room like a wooden sculpture, not moving a muscle.
She knew she was bought by the Xing family—knew Xing Muzheng didn’t love her. But on their wedding night, he had asked her whether it hurt. To a girl like her, unloved by father or mother, that simple question tugged violently at a string deep within her heart. He was such a proud, spirited young husband—like an eagle soaring high in the sky, a man one could only look up to. Every day, she would stand behind the window, watching him practice swordsmanship in the courtyard, her heart quietly blooming with sweetness. Those were her fondest, warmest memories—buried deep in her heart.
She knew he had gone to join the army, to protect the nation. And even though she knew there was a high chance she’d be widowed, she still supported him in going. She couldn’t read or write, but she understood that if the country was lost, millions of homes would be lost too. Qian Jiaoniang had even prepared herself for the worst: if he died in battle, she would raise his mother, bear his children, and ensure the Xing family line continued, even if it meant her own life.
That belief had sustained her for many years. Whenever she was at her lowest, she would think of Xing Muzheng, and gain the strength to carry on. When she heard he had won battles, she was happier than anyone; when word came that he had died, she nearly collapsed too. When she found out he had survived and returned in triumph, who could possibly understand the joy that flooded her heart?
But sadly, heroes always end up with beauties. He was to marry a talented young lady as his formal wife. Qian Jiaoniang had secretly wept so many tears at night before she could finally accept that she had merely been one-sided in her affections. She wasn’t a match for him—she knew that. She had considered trying to catch up to him with effort, but he wouldn’t even give her the chance. Since her husband had no love for her, then no matter how deeply she loved him, she could only let it be carried away by the wind. Qian Jiaoniang only wanted to wait until Chou’er was older, then she would ask to be divorced and free the both of them.
But she never expected Xing Muzheng would petition the emperor himself, slandering her in such a degrading way—discarding her in the most humiliating fashion. Xing Muzheng, how truly cruel he was.
Qian Jiaoniang’s lips trembled. She touched her face, and only then realized it was already wet with tears.
“Marquis, madam is resting. Please wait a while before—”
Qingya’s flustered voice came from outside. Qian Jiaoniang quickly stood up and wiped her tears, but they had already blurred her face—no matter how she wiped, they wouldn’t go away. Xing Muzheng pushed past Qingya and stormed in. Jiaoniang turned her back to him—she didn’t want him to see her in such a pathetic state. But Xing Muzheng rudely grabbed her arm and forced her to turn around.
He saw her eyes were red, her nose red too, and tear droplets still clung to her lashes. His brows drew together tightly as he barked, “Why are you crying?”
Qian Jiaoniang was stunned by his roar. She stared at the man in front of her. Yes—why was she crying? Why should she cry for a man who treated her like this? A man so heartless and unkind wasn’t worth her sorrow. She took a deep breath and forced a smile to her lips. “The marquis misunderstood. I’m crying because I’m happy.”
Qingya had followed them in, uneasy. From behind Xing Muzheng, Qian Jiaoniang gave her a slight shake of the head. Qingya studied her face—still worried—but obeyed her and left.
Xing Muzheng’s eyes turned sharp. His large hand subconsciously tightened around her wrist. Crying from happiness? Was she that eager to leave him and marry Wang Tieniu? “What are you so happy about?” he asked darkly. If she really dared say it was because of Wang Tieniu, he would kill that brat on the spot.
A sharp, searing pain shot through Qian Jiaoniang’s wrist, but she endured it without making a sound. In front of someone who didn’t care, even if she cried out in pain, he wouldn’t feel sorry for her. She smiled and said, “I’m happy the Marquis has finally divorced a peasant woman like me. From now on, you can marry—hic!” Qian Jiaoniang hiccupped from crying, cutting off her sentence. A flicker of embarrassment crossed her eyes as she grit her teeth and pulled away from Xing Muzheng, wiping the tear stains from her face in an attempt to appear casual. “From now on, you can marry the daughter of a noble household, or even become a princess consort in the palace—how delightful that would be!”
So, in the end, she was resenting him. Not because of that Wang Tieniu.
Xing Muzheng said in a low voice, “As for the decree, I will give you an explanation.” The absurd imperial edict had already been issued. Things had come to this point—his only option now was to find a way to make the imperial family take it back.
Qian Jiaoniang’s gaze turned even colder. If Xing Muzheng hadn’t petitioned for the decree, would the imperial court have cared enough to interfere in someone else’s household affairs? She had thought, perhaps, he would at least say a word or two to explain, for the sake of her years caring for him—maybe even lie and say this had nothing to do with him. But she had overestimated herself. Should she say the Marquis was too upright to make excuses, or that she simply didn’t matter enough? In his eyes, a wife was just another servant—taking care of him was her duty.
But a man is the butcher, and she is the meat upon the board. She had to know her place. Otherwise, she wouldn’t even know how she died.
Qian Jiaoniang said, “Marquis, I don’t need any explanation. If you want to divorce me, it’s only natural. Besides, you even went and requested an imperial decree. But isn’t this a bit too distant? If you wanted me gone, you could’ve just told me directly, and I’d have packed up and left on my own. Were you afraid I’d cling shamelessly to your household? That’s ridiculous!”
Xing Muzheng knew she must have misunderstood—thinking it was he who had petitioned the imperial court. But even if he hadn’t asked for it, the matter had indeed started because of him. He didn’t know how to apologize; all he could do was find a way to restore her dignity.
Seeing his silence, Qian Jiaoniang continued, “Marquis, I’ve long known that I’m not a match for you—not worthy of this marquis estate. I just wanted to shamelessly linger a little longer, as if even someone like me once lived in a god’s palace. I got carried away and forgot what kind of life I was living. You were waiting for the mourning period to end so you could marry Miss Feng. I thought I could ask to be dismissed early and save you the trouble. Who would’ve thought you’d go so far as to request a decree. But I guess I should be thankful for that decree—it’s like I gained a hundred taels of gold out of thin air! A hundred taels, Marquis. I’ve never seen that much gold in my whole life…”
“Shut up.” Xing Muzheng barked. The look in her eyes was too cold—she had never looked at him like that before. She was truly angry. Why wouldn’t she lash out at him? His chest felt suffocating, stuffed with cotton, and he didn’t know how to soothe her. He clicked his tongue and said awkwardly, “Don’t worry. You saved my life—I’ll still let you remain the Marchioness.”
Qian Jiaoniang’s lips slowly curved into a smile—rising higher and higher. Then, with a soft voice, she said, “Xing Muzheng, get out.”
And Xing Muzheng… really did get out.
That very night, he left Yuzhou City with a troop of men, destination unknown.
Want to show your support? Go donate at Paypal or Ko-fi to show your appreciation! Want to get early access to at least 10+ chapters in advance? Go to my Patreon to join now! :)
