Chapter 108

The moon had risen above the treetops when Fu Tingjun saw off the last guest. She let out a long, quiet breath and turned back to the second hall.

The two serving women were clearing the cups and dishes in the hall. Seeing her enter, they hurried over with smiles and bowed. One of them said, "Lord Zhao said the moonlight is lovely tonight and asked if you would care to enjoy it in the courtyard. If you have the inclination, he asked us to bring out the bamboo couch and wash some fruit to arrange on plates."

Zhao Ling had given up his own private quarters to her, while Miss Tang and her two maids were lodged in the side rooms behind the second hall, making both sides inconvenient. He had planned to spend the night in his office.

Would he come?

Fu Tingjun felt a restless stir within her. "The weather is so hot—it would be nice to cool off in the courtyard!"

The two women had made a misstep earlier and were looking for a chance to make amends. Hearing this, they dropped their work and hurried to draw water for Fu Tingjun to bathe. By the time she had washed and dressed, the hall and courtyard had been swept spotless. The bamboo couch with its woven mat had been carried out and placed beneath the osmanthus tree in the courtyard. On the low table, a blue-and-white porcelain pedestal dish held washed grapes and apricots, sliced watermelon and muskmelon, and beside it sat a freshly brewed pot of tea.

"Does miss find anything lacking?" The two women came up with ingratiating smiles, one clasping her hands in greeting while the other fanned her. "We'll fetch it at once!"

Since Fu Tingjun's return, the two women had been working without a moment's respite. Strands of sweat-dampened hair clung to their cheeks, and they reeked of perspiration.

Fu Tingjun was not one to nitpick with servants. Thinking that Zhao Ling would still need their service in the future, she smiled and took the fan from the woman's hand. "You've been very thoughtful. I need nothing more here. You've been busy all afternoon—go rest now!"

Seeing her kind and unbothered, the two women's faces lit up with relief. They offered a few flattering words before withdrawing.

The osmanthus tree was as thick as a man's embrace, its branches lush with leaves. Among the glossy, oil-green foliage hung clusters of golden buds, with a few blossoms already open, filling the air with a faint, sweet fragrance.

Fu Tingjun wore a white gauze robe. Lying on the bamboo couch beneath the osmanthus tree, she fanned herself and gazed at the bright moon through the dappled leaves, her heart utterly serene and still.

Suddenly, she felt as if a pair of deep, intent eyes were quietly fixed upon her.

She immediately thought of Zhao Ling...

A joyful smile spread across her lips as she hastily sat up—and met a pair of eyes bright as morning stars.

Her face flushed uncontrollably, and for a moment her heart fluttered in confusion. She blurted out, "Have you... have you had your evening meal yet?"

The moment the words left her mouth, she felt her cheeks burn even hotter.

While he had been hosting the hundred-household commanders and banner leaders in the side courtyard, she had been entertaining their wives in the second hall. The two of them had seen off guests at opposite ends—she at the second hall, he at the main gate. She had already bathed and changed; how could he not have eaten?

Zhao Ling walked slowly toward her. In the moonlight, his gentle expression was warm as early spring.

"I was too busy drinking to eat much—just half a bowl of noodles," he said, sitting down on the bamboo couch with an easy air. "Did you get enough to eat entertaining the ladies in the back hall?" He glanced at the fruit plates on the low table. "Do you have anything to eat here?"

Fu Tingjun had only picked at her food as well. But because she had been riding in a carriage all afternoon, she was weary and had little appetite, so she hadn't felt hungry. Only now, at his words, did she realize that one never truly eats one's fill at such banquets.

She rose quickly. "Shall I make you some noodles?"

"No need!" Zhao Ling took her hand. "I drank a bit too much and don't feel like eating. Would you peel me a few grapes?" He released her hand naturally.

Fu Tingjun thought nothing of it and sat down to peel grapes for him.

Zhao Ling fanned her from the side.

She peeled a cupful of grapes, stuck toothpicks in them, and handed them to him, then took the fan from his hand and fanned him in turn.

He accepted the cup, picking at the grapes with a toothpick while stealing moments to talk. "Why don't you stay until after the Mid-Autumn Festival?"

"Who told you to announce in front of everyone that you'd left important documents at home? I came to deliver them," Fu Tingjun teased him. "Now that they're delivered, how can I keep staying at your place? In a few days it'll be the Ullambana Festival, which isn't convenient for travel, so I'll leave after that." Her voice grew a little shy. "If you have time, you can come home and visit."

Zhao Ling was full of regret. "If I'd known, I should have told them you came to celebrate my birthday."

"Talking nonsense again." Fu Tingjun thought of the skeptical looks on the hundred-household commanders' faces when Zhao Ling had said she came to deliver documents, and she chided him, "Your birthday is still two months away. Who would believe that?"

"What does it matter whether you believe it or not?" Zhao Ling said dismissively. "Everyone's just looking for an excuse." He thought about how he should be able to return for the Mid-Autumn Festival to see Fu Tingjun, and immediately changed his mind. "Fine. You can leave after the Ullambana Festival, and we'll go release river lanterns then."

Being able to release river lanterns with Zhao Ling naturally delighted Fu Tingjun, and she agreed happily, adding, "Then I'll prepare some offerings, and we can also go to the temple to pay our respects." Thinking of the soldiers who had died fighting alongside Zhao Ling, her mood grew somewhat somber. "I'll also copy a few volumes of the Ushnisha Vijaya Dharani Sutra , the Maudgalyayana Sutra , and the Ullambana Sutra —you can offer them to the Bodhisattva on my behalf."

She was copying the sutras for his sake, wasn't she?

"Good!" Zhao Ling smiled at her. "We'll go together then."

The clarity in his gaze made Fu Tingjun feel somewhat embarrassed.

Light footsteps approached.

Both of them frowned involuntarily.

They saw Miss Tang, dressed in a moon-white Lake silk summer gown, walking into the courtyard.

Seeing Zhao Ling, she paused slightly, then broke into a beautiful smile. "I thought only Miss Fu was here admiring the moon, and I wanted to keep her company—I didn't expect Lord Zhao to be here as well!" She stepped forward and greeted both Zhao Ling and Fu Tingjun with a bow.

Since you knew Zhao Ling was here, why would you still come and spoil the mood like this!

Fu Tingjun grumbled inwardly, but smiled and returned Miss Tang's greeting. Seeing that Miss Tang showed no sign of leaving, she went back inside, brought out a stool, and invited Miss Tang to sit.

Miss Tang smiled and said, "What were Lord Zhao and Miss Fu discussing? The Ullambana Festival is approaching. I've heard that at this time every year, from the General's residence down to every garrison post, Taoist priests and Buddhist monks are invited to conduct rites. Lord Zhao, will the Nianbo Garrison be holding a ceremony this year?" Her eyes glistened with tears. "Miss Fu, will you be attending the ceremony? I'd like to go with you and burn some paper money for my father and mother." As she spoke, tears streamed down her face. "I don't know what to do now. My father left me hundreds of thousands in gold... An innocent man with a precious jade is guilty of a crime... I don't know how many people are eyeing the properties my father left me... I'm so afraid... Only Lord Zhao has never shown any greed..." She wiped her tears, a hint of shyness appearing on her face. "That's why my father, on his deathbed, repeatedly urged me to seek out Lord Zhao. He said that if I wanted to keep my life, I could only beg Lord Zhao to take me in—otherwise, a weak woman alone, carrying a large fortune, would not live long..." She covered her face and wept bitterly.

What does she mean by this?

Beg Zhao Ling to take her in—how exactly? As an adopted sister? Or as a concubine in his chambers?

A sharp glint flashed in Fu Tingjun's eyes as she looked at Zhao Ling.

Zhao Ling frowned, looking somewhat irritated.

"Miss Tang..." He paused, appearing troubled, then said thoughtfully, "Your feud with the Feng Family runs deep. Even if I were to invite a respected elder of the martial world to mediate, the Feng Family, for the sake of face, would still demand that you offer some money as compensation. If that's what you're worried about, you might as well pay the Feng Family a larger sum and then propose that they guarantee your safety. I think the Feng Family would be willing to put on the appearance of aiding the weak and rescuing the distressed."

"Lord Zhao," Miss Tang sobbed, "you still haven't understood my father's meaning. It's not that my father was reluctant to part with this wealth—if it could preserve my life, what would it matter to give it all up? What I fear is that some people would take the money and still not be satisfied, putting on a righteous facade while striking in the shadows. Even if I lost my life, others would praise them as noble gentlemen who help those in need. They would kill me and then use my death to save face. If that were the case, neither my father nor I could rest easy even in death."

Fu Tingjun fell silent.

How could Miss Tang be so certain that Zhao Ling wouldn't covet her wealth?

Recalling Miss Tang's earlier gift of the sword, she couldn't help but wonder—could there be some deeper connection between them?

But whatever the connection, she couldn't allow this Miss Tang, who was always going on about her vast fortune, to become entangled with them. Even if Zhao Ling wasn't tempted, that didn't mean others wouldn't be.

"From what Miss Tang says," Fu Tingjun said slowly, "you're afraid that if your wealth is exposed, someone might kill you for it?"

Miss Tang nodded eagerly. "Yes—"

She'd barely uttered the word when Fu Tingjun said, "I think this matter is easy to resolve."

Miss Tang's heart leaped with joy.

The first time she met Zhao Ling, she felt he was different from all the salt smugglers she had known. She had taken a liking to him then, but at that time Zhao Ling was still just a poor young man, and she dared not say anything. Later, when Tang Daishan and Zhao Ling did a few deals together and Tang Daishan came to think very highly of Zhao Ling, Miss Tang hinted that Tang Daishan should take Zhao Ling as a son-in-law. Tang Daishan mulled it over and also thought it was a good idea, but Zhao Ling refused very clearly. Both Master Tang and Miss Tang assumed Zhao Ling did not want to marry into the family. Master Tang gave up on the idea, but Miss Tang kept it in her heart all along. Later, as Zhao Ling's business grew bigger and bigger, to the point that even the Feng Family had to keep their distance, she once again hinted that she wished to marry Zhao Ling. Tang Daishan thought it over again and again, and felt that compared to carrying on the family line, how to pull Zhao Ling over to his side and preserve the fruits of several generations of the Tang family's hard work was more important, so he sent someone to propose the match again. This time Zhao Ling declined Master Tang politely with the excuse that "my career is not yet established, and I have no mind for marriage." Master Tang brought it up several more times afterward, but Zhao Ling refused every time.

Of course Miss Tang knew that such wealth could not move Zhao Ling. She also knew that when Zhao Ling said he had a betrothed wife, he would never break off the engagement to marry another.

But not everyone was necessarily like Zhao Ling.

If she entered the Zhao family's door, as the mistress of the household, Miss Fu might share this family fortune with her. Could Miss Fu really be unmoved by that?

She could not help holding her breath and gazing fixedly at Fu Tingjun.