A few days later, Wang Tieniu indeed sent word through Qingya, saying everything was ready. The night after tomorrow, during the second watch, the south gate would be unguarded. She could slip out and meet him at the old locust tree with the white cloth tied around it. He would be waiting in the grove.
Night fell quickly the next day. A strong wind blew, and the weather turned even colder. Everyone in the estate had switched to wearing lined jackets.
Wang Tieniu wore a felt hat, and in his hand was another, meant for Qian Jiaoniang. He stood beneath the old locust tree, rubbing his hands together. A gust of cold wind made him shiver, but his heart was warm—burning with anticipation for his beloved to arrive.
He grinned to himself like a fool. If Jiaoniang was willing to run away with him, it meant she still had feelings for him. He should’ve taken her back then—stopped her mother from selling her off. Her mother sold her into widowhood, and just when she thought she was climbing out of hardship, her husband got a royal edict to cast her aside. She truly was a pitiful woman. But no matter—he’d take care of her now. They would live a good life.
“Bang, bang—” The night watch struck the wood blocks twice—hearing the distant sound, Wang Tieniu grew even more alert. He stood straighter, rubbing his hands and stretching his neck to peer toward the edge of the grove.
The wind rustled the trees for what seemed like an eternity. Wang Tieniu went from standing to squatting, then grew impatient and began pacing around the locust tree. At every sound, he perked up in hope—but every time, it turned out to be nothing.
The cold wind grew fiercer, howling through the trees like a monster’s wail. Night birds hooted, making the woods feel darker and more terrifying. Wang Tieniu’s disappointment mounted. His whole body grew cold—down to the bones, down to his heart. Still, he wouldn’t give up. He stood and waited.
“Bang—bang bang—”
The watch struck three times. It was the third watch now. The night was deep. And the person who was supposed to appear still hadn’t shown up.
With a sudden burst of anger, Wang Tieniu punched the old locust tree.
Jiaoniang had lied to him. She was only humoring him. She had never intended to elope with him.
He punched the tree again. And again. Until red bloomed through the white cloth he had tied to it. Gasping, eyes red, Wang Tieniu stood still for a moment, then turned and walked away, dragging his feet, his figure full of sorrow.
As soon as Wang Tieniu left, a few figures leapt down from the trees near the old locust. Among them were Xing Muzheng, who had returned to Yuzhou earlier that day, and Ah Da, Li Qingquan.
Xing Muzheng’s expression was unreadable—neither anger nor joy could be seen. Hands behind his back, he stood still, gazing in the direction Wang Tieniu had gone.
As the saying goes: once bitten, twice shy. The marquis’s estate now had not only guards posted openly, but also hidden sentries patrolling in secret. Its security rivaled that of the imperial palace, and nothing within the estate escaped Xing Muzheng’s eyes. Wang Yong wasn’t a fool—he had already recognized Wang Tieniu, who had deliberately avoided him during patrols. Though he hadn’t overheard the conversation between Qian Jiaoniang and Wang Tieniu in the garden, he’d seen the meeting and guessed something was up. Later, when he discovered that Wang Tieniu had bribed a boy on night duty at the south gate, Wang Yong had pieced most of it together and immediately sent a message by carrier pigeon to Xing Muzheng.
Xing Muzheng ordered his men to play along—to accept the bribe and deliberately leave the gate unguarded. He had returned to Yuzhou at noon that very day, but didn’t go back to the estate. Instead, he had men follow Wang Tieniu and found that the man had packed his belongings and rented a cart to wait at the city gate the next morning. Then Xing Muzheng snuck into the small grove that night.
Anyone with eyes could see what was going on—Wang Tieniu was planning to elope with Qian Jiaoniang.
“Commander, seems like Madam still remains loyal to you!” Ah Da said with a grin. He had been on edge all night, worrying that Madam would actually run off with Wang Tieniu.
Xing Muzheng let out a cold snort. “What a pity.” With that, he turned and walked away first.
A pity? Pity what? Ah Da and Li Qingquan exchanged glances.
“Could it be,” Li Qingquan muttered, “that the Commander was hoping for an excuse to kill Madam, and now he’s disappointed?”
Ah Da spat, “You keep thinking like that, you’ll be reassigned to guard the front gate.”
Li Qingquan, completely clueless when it came to matters between men and women—worse than the Commander himself—pulled a long face and said, “What did I say wrong? Then what do you think the Commander finds so regretful?”
“I think he regrets not being able to kill Wang Tieniu outright.”
***
Meanwhile, Qian Jiaoniang’s room was still lit. She and Qingya were still deep in discussion about the clothing design Qingya had sketched. When the distant sound of the watchman’s clapper echoed faintly, Qingya yawned. “It’s already the third watch.”
“It’s late—go sleep. We’ll talk more tomorrow,” said Qian Jiaoniang.
Qingya nodded, rolling up the sketch paper. Before she left, she asked, “You really won’t go with Wang Tieniu?” Hadn’t she always said she didn’t want to stay here a moment longer? This was the perfect chance. Besides, she had already exchanged wedding vows with Wang Tieniu—surely she didn’t hate him.
Qian Jiaoniang sighed softly. “I did want to go. But I can’t drag Brother Tieniu down with me.” That naïve plan would have failed before sunrise. When they were caught, Xing Muzheng would have had every excuse to kill them both.
“Then why did you agree to go? You’ve had him worrying and planning for days. Right now he’s probably standing out in the freezing wind, full of hate for you.”
Qian Jiaoniang chuckled. “Let him hate me. He’s too stubborn—if he doesn’t hate me, he won’t be able to let go.” Xing Muzheng already had murder in his heart. If Brother Tieniu kept stubbornly coming after her, he’d definitely die under Xing Muzheng’s sword.
Qingya blew out the lamp. “I see plenty of people do bad things while trying to keep a good reputation. You, on the other hand, always make yourself out to be the villain.”
“If it were possible, who wouldn’t want to be the good guy?”
Their conversation finished, Qingya went back to her room. Qian Jiaoniang washed her face, opened the window, and was hit by a blast of cold wind that made her shiver. She looked up at the crescent moon hanging in the sky and stood there for a while before shutting the window. She turned and blew out the oil lamp, then lay down in bed.
Outside, the cold wind howled. Qian Jiaoniang closed her eyes but couldn’t fall asleep.
Suddenly, there was a soft rustling sound beside the bed. The footsteps weren’t a woman’s—and definitely not her son, who could sleep through a thunderstorm. Qian Jiaoniang instantly became alert, reaching beneath her pillow.
Someone lifted her bed curtains. Qian Jiaoniang yanked out the knife hidden under her pillow and slashed at the shadow. But the figure grabbed her wrist and hissed, “It’s me!”
She recognized the voice, then caught sight of his face under the faint light.
It was Xing Muzheng, who had somehow returned to the estate without anyone noticing.
Xing Muzheng also saw what was in her hand—a kitchen knife. If she’d managed to strike him with that, he might’ve lost half his life.
Qian Jiaoniang frowned and lowered her hand, placing the knife back under the pillow. She pulled the blanket up to her chest and gathered her loose hair. “What’s the Marquis doing sneaking into my room in the dead of night?”
Instead of answering, Xing Muzheng asked, “When did my room become a doghouse?” He’d gone in and immediately smelled dog.
Qian Jiaoniang choked, then retorted, “Your room’s up front—not here.”
Xing Muzheng let out a snort and said nothing more. He started taking off his outer garments.
Qian Jiaoniang held her blanket tightly and glared at him. “What are you doing?”
Xing Muzheng glanced at her as he sat by the bed and kicked off his boots. “You gave my room to the dog—where else can I sleep? Move over.”
“Go back to your—”
Before she could finish, a shadow along with the scent of a man came crashing down on her. Qian Jiaoniang shrank back in surprise. Xing Muzheng lifted the blanket, and she felt a gust of cold air before a furnace-like body pressed up beside her. Something brushed against her leg, making her cry out and toss the blanket away.
“You’re not even cold?” Xing Muzheng pulled the blanket back over them and wrapped her inside it. He might’ve regretted not having a good reason to kill Wang Tieniu, but now that this woman hadn’t gone off to elope, he couldn’t deny he was pleased. He pulled her closer with his arm over the blanket. His burning chest pressed against her soft body. “Don’t fuss. Go to sleep.”
Qian Jiaoniang gritted her teeth and shoved at him. “Xing Muzheng, you’re shameless! There’s nothing between us anymore, and you still—wait, you’re burning up! Are you sick?” The heat from his body was just like when he had soaked in the ice barrel the other day. No wonder he was acting strange—he must’ve cooked his brain.
“I’m fine. Stop talking.” Only now that he was lying down did Xing Muzheng realize how exhausted he was. His whole body relaxed. With a warm, fragrant woman in his arms, he felt utterly at ease. He nudged his head into the crook of her neck and, finding it comfortable, simply stayed there.
Qian Jiaoniang was completely trapped beneath his large frame, unable to move. His scalding breath brushed her ear, making her sweat in no time.
“Xing Muzheng, you’re sick! Get up and call a doctor!” she demanded, eager to get him the h*ll off her.
But whether Xing Muzheng was truly asleep or just dazed from the fever, he held her tightly and didn’t move an inch. Qian Jiaoniang felt like she was wrapped in a furnace—her entire body was burning up. She gritted her teeth and called his name twice, but Xing Muzheng gave no response. With no other choice, Qian Jiaoniang began calling out loudly, “Someone come! Someone!”
Qingya had only just fallen asleep. It took Qian Jiaoniang calling out seven or eight times before she was finally startled awake. Once she recognized the voice clearly, she threw on a robe and slipped on her shoes. In the corridor, she ran into Li Yan, the maid on night duty, whose room was closest to Qian Jiaoniang’s. By reason, she should’ve been the first to hear—but now she was only peeking around.
Qingya asked her, “Didn’t you hear Madam calling?”
Li Yan hesitated. “I did, of course. But I saw the Marquis go into Madam’s room earlier… I didn’t know if I should go in.”
The Marquis was back? Qingya frowned. “Are you here to serve Madam or the Marquis?” Not waiting for a reply, she pulled her robe tighter, took the lamp from Li Yan’s hand, and hurried toward Qian Jiaoniang’s room.
“Madam, what’s wrong?” Qingya asked through the screen as she entered.
“Have Li Yan wake up Doctor Bai. There’s a patient here who’s burnt his brain with fever.” Qian Jiaoniang had no desire to deal with Xing Muzheng, but with him in this condition, she couldn’t not deal with him. If no doctor came soon, she herself was going to be roasted by his body heat.
Qingya immediately understood and rushed out to give instructions. Li Yan quickly dressed and left the courtyard to fetch the doctor.
Qingya, meanwhile, fetched a basin of well water and soaked a clean cloth in it. When she came out again, Wang Yong was peeking into the courtyard. He waved frantically at her. Qingya approached—Wang Yong and Ah Da were both outside the gate.
Seeing her, Wang Yong quickly asked, “Miss Qingya, I just ran into Li Yan. She said the Marquis is ill and Madam called for a doctor—is that true?”
“What’s there to doubt? Seems like the Marquis has a fever,” she replied.
Ah Da clenched his fist and hit his palm, sighing, “It must be leftover poison! And tonight he was out in the wind for half the night—that’s why he fell ill!”
