Chapter 101

Fifteen days passed in the blink of an eye. Zhao Ling did not return, only sending a brief letter of safety through Zhao Ming.

Fu Tingjun summoned Zhao Ming for a conversation: "How is Master Zhao's health? Has he been busy with official duties these days?"

This was the first time Zhao Ming had seen Fu Tingjun. Though separated by a bamboo curtain, the floating fragrance, the graceful figure, and the crisp yet melodious voice all left Zhao Ming momentarily speechless.

"Although Nianbo Station is in a remote location, since the Hundred Household Officer came from the Military Command Office, we didn't dare be careless. We specially hired two capable women to attend to the Hundred Household Officer's daily needs. It certainly can't compare to home, but it's still clean and tidy." His smile carried a hint of fawning eagerness. "Nianbo Station has always been controlled by the Wu family. When the Mongols invaded this time, they were scattered and routed. Only after the Hundred Household Officer took over did he discover that military pay had been delayed for years, the garrison's farmlands were already ruined, the horses were old and feeble, the weapons rusty... Truly, one doesn't know until one investigates—once investigated, it's riddled with holes, not a single matter going smoothly. The Hundred Household Officer has been busy with military training these days, and also busy calculating the arrears in military pay. Autumn is almost here, and we still don't know where winter provisions will come from. I've had no choice but to follow the Hundred Household Officer's orders and run to the Commander-in-Chief's office every few days—either pleading poverty before Deputy General Wang or borrowing from the Marquis of Yingchuan..." At this point, he couldn't help puffing out his chest, as if being able to speak with the Marquis of Yingchuan was already a great honor. "Our Hundred Household Officer really has face—neither the Marquis of Yingchuan nor Deputy General Wang has had me beaten. Just this time, the Marquis of Yingchuan allocated us three thousand taels of silver for winter. The Hundred Household Officer's old superior, Commander Lu, also sent us two hundred dan of grain. Now everyone in the garrison praises the Hundred Household Officer's wisdom. The Wu family members who previously dared to challenge him arrogantly are now as docile as lambs." He finished with a proud smile and explained, "We all felt we should call Master Zhao 'Thousand Household Officer,' but Master Zhao said he's still a Hundred Household Officer and insisted we address him as such, so we had no choice but to comply!"

Zhao Ling certainly had a way with managing his subordinates—otherwise, he could never have raised a force from nothing back then, and ultimately made the Feng family fear him endlessly.

But that wasn't what Fu Tingjun was concerned about. She mused, "Is Ninth Master really so busy that he doesn't even have time to come see the Marquis of Yingchuan? When you saw the Marquis of Yingchuan, did he say anything?"

"No, no!" Zhao Ming quickly smiled. "The Marquis of Yingchuan was very pleased to learn that the Hundred Household Officer has been busy drilling the troops these days. He even had me bring a jar of wine to the Hundred Household Officer." He lowered his voice and put on a mysterious expression. "According to Guard Lin beside the Marquis, that wine was bestowed by the Emperor upon the Duke of Fuguo, and the Duchess of Fuguo had it specially delivered to the Marquis..." He clicked his tongue twice, his tone full of envy. "Bestowed by the Emperor himself!"

Could it be that someone else killed Feng Dahu?

At this moment, Fu Tingjun's desire to see Zhao Ling grew even more urgent.

She patiently exchanged a few more words with Zhao Ming, then had Zheng San accompany him to a meal. She sat at the table for a long time, propping her chin on her hand, until Zheng San came in to report that Zhao Ming had left. She immediately instructed Zheng San: "We'll leave for Nianbo Station tomorrow."

Zheng San had also made inquiries on the side and knew that Zhao Ling had been at Nianbo Station all this time. The heavy stone in his heart was lifted. As a servant, he naturally wouldn't oppose Fu Tingjun's decision. He respectfully acknowledged and went down to prepare the carriage and horses.

Zheng Sanniang, meanwhile, busily helped Fu Tingjun pack her clothes and prepare dried provisions.

Fu Tingjun instructed A Sen: "Once I'm gone, I entrust matters at home to you. You must not be childish anymore—take good care of Sanniang and Linchun. I'll be back within twenty days at most."

Nianbo Station was, after all, a garrison post. She didn't intend to stay long—she planned to see Zhao Ling, exchange a few words with him, and then return.

A Sen very much wanted to go along, but thinking of how Fu Tingjun had entrusted the household to him, he pouted his lips and reluctantly nodded.

Zheng Sanniang, however, was uneasy: "I'd better go with you..."

"No need." Fu Tingjun didn't feel comfortable leaving A Sen and Linchun at home alone. "Taking the carriage, traveling day and night, it's only seven or eight days' journey. And once I reach Nianbo Station, Ninth Master has serving women attending to him."

Zheng Sanniang didn't dare defy her wishes. She chattered on with many instructions about the journey, and at dawn the next day, saw Fu Tingjun off at the door.

...

Along the way, there was nothing but boundless yellow sand. The sun hung in the sky like a ball of fire, baking the earth with rolling waves of heat. Fortunately, the temperature cooled in the mornings and evenings—otherwise, traveling in such weather, even if one didn't suffer heatstroke, one would surely fall seriously ill.

Upon entering Nianbo Station, the residents were all military households. The journey was peaceful, though occasionally people would approach with wary eyes and ask whom they were looking for. Fu Tingjun, fearing that sycophants might offer enthusiastic hospitality and delay their journey, uniformly claimed they were seeking Zhao Ming, who had been transferred from Zhuanglang Guard.

Everyone seemed familiar with Zhao Ming. Some sneered, while others gave enthusiastic directions. In just two or three days, they arrived at Ledu, the seat of the Nianbo Station government.

Ledu was a small town with one main street running through it. As soon as they entered the town, Zheng San spotted Zhao Ming sitting at a street-side restaurant, drinking and bragging with two or three men, surrounded by four or five young fellows eagerly listening to his tall tales.

"...That woman, her skin was as white as snow, with delicate eyebrows that would furrow just slightly," he said, demonstrating a frown with an expression of feigned sorrow—though on a grown man's face, it was enough to give one goosebumps. "Just looking at her, my heart ached, let alone our Centurion!" He shook his head with deep feeling. "Our Centurion is truly a fortunate man!"

The group burst into laughter.

One of the men drinking with Zhao Ming laughed and said, "Centurion Zhao, you're a decent-looking fellow yourself. Can you compare with our Centurion? You can only look and feel heartache!"

"Indeed, indeed!" Zhao Ming laughed without taking offense, raising his wine cup for a sip. "I'm just envious, that's all!"

The crowd roared with laughter.

Zheng San's brows knitted tightly.

To be honest, he could somewhat understand Zhao Ming.

A group of men stuck here—of course they'd talk about women. It was like when they escorted caravans; when there was nothing to do at night, they'd tell a few dirty jokes to pass the time. But using Fu Tingjun as a topic of gossip—that grated on his ears.

He was about to call out to Zhao Ming when he saw a young woman emerge from the kitchen at the back, carrying a plate of food. She wore a blue kerchief tied around her head, a white cloth blouse, and a bright blue skirt.

"Assistant Commissioner Zhao," she said, her eyes curving like crescent moons, smiling as beautifully as a hibiscus flower, "I heard you've actually seen the lady of Centurion Zhao's household. Is that true?"

The lady of the household?

Then who was Zhao Ming talking about just now?

Zheng San suddenly felt a chill run down his spine, and he heard Fu Tingjun's low but slightly cold voice: "Don't make a sound! Listen to what Zhao Ming says."

His head buzzed, and for a long moment, all he could see was Zhao Ming's lips moving.

But Fu Tingjun heard every word clearly.

"I've only seen her once," Zhao Ming said, sitting up straighter as he spoke. "To be honest, she truly looked like a proper first wife. There was a curtain between us, and beside the curtain stood a young married woman. When she asked me questions, that young woman just stood there the whole time. Dressed neatly and cleanly, wearing silver hairpins and silver bracelets—she looked even more put-together than Centurion Chen's wife. Every time I visited, she was courteous, either sending me off with some food or offering fruits and melons..."

The people in the restaurant listened with great interest.

First wife?

Then who was the concubine?

Fu Tingjun felt a fire building in her chest, burning hotter and hotter until she was grinding her teeth. She ordered Zheng San: "Go to the Nianbo Station government office."

Zheng San dared not utter a word. He drove the carriage along the street.

Someone in the restaurant had already noticed their carriage, but since this was the town's only restaurant and travelers always stopped here for a meal, no one paid it much mind. Now that the carriage didn't stop but continued down the street instead, someone remarked curiously, "Hey, whose carriage is that?"

At his words, everyone looked outside.

Zhao Ming let out an "Aiya!" and stood up. "It's the Centurion's... I recognize the driver—he's the Centurion's steward." Even as he spoke, he hurriedly rose and called out, "Brother Zheng San!"

Zheng San was hesitating about whether to stop and greet Zhao Ming when the Nianbo Station government office came into view.

He stopped the carriage. Fu Tingjun didn't wait for him to set up the mounting stool before jumping down from the carriage and striding straight toward the office.

Zhao Ming had already caught up. "Brother Zheng San, why didn't you let me know you were coming to the station? I would have come to welcome you." As he spoke, he looked curiously at Fu Tingjun's retreating figure. "This is..."

Zheng San hesitated.

The gatekeeper hesitated too.

Since the driver knew the Assistant Commissioner, the passenger must also be an acquaintance.

And so Fu Tingjun walked unimpeded into the office.

It was just past noon. The clerks had all gone to eat, and the front hall was silent with no one in sight.

Fu Tingjun went straight into the second hall.

In the center of the hall stood a large black-lacquered round table inlaid with snow-white marble. Two women who looked shrewd and capable were setting out bowls and chopsticks while speaking in low voices. Sensing something amiss, they looked up and saw an unfamiliar woman walking in with light, graceful steps and an air of complete composure.

This was the government office of Nianbo Station. Ever since Commander Zhao had dealt with the Wu family, even the Vice Commander of a Thousand Households would tread respectfully upon entering here. Who was this woman? She neither wore a flattering smile nor carried even a hint of caution...

The two women felt displeased, and one of them stepped forward to scold her: "Who are you, young lady? Do you not know that this is the government office of Nianbo Station?" Her tone carried a condescending arrogance. "Withdraw at once! Otherwise, I shall summon the guards!"

Fu Tingjun's eyes were fixed only on the two sets of bowls and chopsticks placed on the large round table.

Her eyes narrowed slightly.

Two sets of bowls and chopsticks!

If he was dining alone, why would he set out two sets of bowls and chopsticks?

If there was a guest, why was there no sound of conversation?

Typically, in a government office's second hall, the east side was the private chamber and the west side was the study.

She headed straight for the east chamber.

"You woman, what are you barging in for?" The two women had not expected the newcomer to show not the slightest fear. By the time they moved to stop her, Fu Tingjun had already entered the private chamber.

Zhao Ling seemed to have just returned from outside. His face was flushed red, and he had removed his official robes, wearing only an inner garment. He was washing his face with well water when he heard the commotion and looked up, his long, slender brows furrowing slightly in displeasure.

In just a few days apart, you've already forgotten who I am!

Fu Tingjun sneered inwardly and snatched off the scarf draped over her head.