Chapter 135

The scene outside was indeed chaotic.

People hurried about everywhere, shop assistants across the street frantically putting up their door boards while sweating shopkeepers urged them on with cries of "Hurry, hurry!" At the street corner, a child who had somehow become separated from his parents stood wailing in bewilderment, until a pale-faced mother rushed over, grabbing his hand and scolding him loudly as she pulled him along... The bustling, clamorous confusion struck one squarely in the face.

Fu Tingjun was momentarily stunned.

A woman called out to Zheng Sanniang: "What are you doing here? Why haven't you gone home to tell your husband to barricade the door? Prince Mu's troops have already passed the Chengtian Gate." Lowering her voice, she pointed toward the sky, "The heavens are about to change!" Looking up, she noticed Fu Tingjun and Shopkeeper Ye San standing behind Zheng Sanniang and gave a slight start.

Prince Mu's army entering the capital was a disaster for some, but for them, it was news they had long hoped for. How could she possibly stop Miss Fu?

Zheng Sanniang muttered inwardly, though her face had already broken into a practiced smile as she introduced the woman to Fu Tingjun: "Miss, this is Mama Li of the Ji family on Bensi Lane."

Mama Li quickly bent her knees in a curtsey to Fu Tingjun, unable to resist studying her.

She was truly beautiful—especially that smile, which seemed to spring from the very depths of her heart, radiant and dazzling as summer sunlight.

Mama Li found herself secretly puzzled.

The inner city was already in such turmoil—how could this Miss Fu be smiling so joyfully, as if she hadn't a care in the world?

She glanced at the steward-like man beside Miss Fu. Though his lips were pressed together, his eyes sparkled like twinkling stars—clearly delighted as well.

Mama Li shook her head.

But Fu Tingjun had no mind for such thoughts. Smiling, she asked Mama Li, "Prince Mu's troops have already passed the Chengtian Gate?"

Mama Li's heart tightened at the question, and remembering the errand she'd been sent on, she said hastily, "Yes, yes. Our mistress and young master are no longer in the city—only a few of us rough-serving maids were left behind. Our steward sent me out to see how things stood in the streets, and I'd just heard what people were saying." Realizing she'd said too much, she gave an awkward little laugh. "Miss Fu, our steward is waiting for my report, so I'd best be going." She made a hasty bow and hurried away.

So that was why Madam Wu had been visiting the Ji household so often those days—both the Wu and Ji families must have left the city to escape the chaos of war.

Fu Tingjun pondered this.

Shopkeeper Ye San lowered his voice to advise her: "With Prince Mu entering the city, his first priority will be meeting the Emperor and the Grand Empress Dowager. He won't have time to concern himself with outside matters. Who knows how many will seize the chance to fish in troubled waters and profit from the chaos of war. Miss, it would be best to keep your doors tightly shut as before, so as not to give petty thieves an opening. I believe that if Master Zhao makes it into the capital, he will certainly find a way to come see you. Please remain patient and composed."

Fu Tingjun was deeply worried about Zhao Ling. Upon hearing that Prince Mu had entered the city, she'd been tempted to go out and inquire about his situation. But seeing the chaotic scene in the streets, and realizing she neither knew where Zhao Ling was stationed nor had any acquaintance among Prince Mu's men, she understood that rushing about blindly would only put herself in danger. Since Prince Mu was to take the throne, he would surely restore order in the capital quickly—there would be time enough to make inquiries then. So she smiled and agreed with Shopkeeper Ye San, exchanging promises to "send word as soon as there's news," and they parted at the mouth of the alley.

As the group made their way home, closed doors met their eyes at every turn.

Zheng San, as instructed by Fu Tingjun, continued his night patrols with A Sen.

That evening, the imperial palace blazed with lights, illuminating the entire capital city.

Fu Tingjun stood beneath the eaves, gazing at the red glow in the sky, and did not turn back into the inner chambers until the first pale light of dawn.

Just two hours later, the clang of bronze gongs rang through every street and alley of the capital.

People craned their necks to see what was happening.

A man's deep voice rolled out in waves like the sea: "The Emperor has issued an 'Edict of Self-Blame,' posted outside the Meridian Gate—he will abdicate to Prince Mu... The Emperor has issued an 'Edict of Self-Blame,' posted outside the Meridian Gate—he will abdicate to Prince Mu..."

"Ah, the heavens have truly changed!"

"Prince Mu is to become Emperor!"

"I hear the Marquis of Wuding's family are Prince Mu's maternal relatives—won't they be riding high now!"

"Does the Marquis of Wuding's family even have any male heirs left alive?"

As long as no blade was at their throats, there would always be gossips eager to chatter.

But Fu Tingjun let out a long sigh of relief.

To resolve the matter of the Emperor without shedding a drop of blood—that could only benefit the balance of power in the days to come.

Outside, Li Hui, the commander of the Five Cities Military Patrol, personally led his men to maintain order in the capital, urging shops to open their doors and patiently persuading the crowd: "Prince Mu merely intends to execute Hong Du and Shi Wenbin for the good of the people. Now that Hong Du and Shi Wenbin are in the imperial prison, there's no need to panic—go about your business as usual."

The patrolmen were far more courteous than usual.

Most people remained cautious, but some bold ones led their shopkeepers to open up.

And indeed, everything was just as usual—no fierce soldiers, no reckless officers, and even the bullies who lorded over the markets had vanished. The shops on West Avenue were the first to open one after another, followed by those on East Avenue and Drum Tower Street. Within just two or three days, the capital once again bore the air of a thriving, prosperous age.

Meanwhile, the Grand Empress Dowager had returned to the palace and issued an edict declaring the new emperor unvirtuous and unfit to inherit the throne, thus deposing him and granting him the title of Prince Shun, to be relocated to the Western Park. Then Prince Rong submitted a memorial stating that the late emperor had no sons and his brothers had dwindled, so a worthy candidate should be chosen from among the nephews. Following that, officials submitted memorials one after another, praising Prince Mu's virtue and noble birth, urging that he be enthroned... These dizzying changes added a lively buzz to the capital.

Fu Tingjun felt nothing but anxiety.

She waved her snow-white round fan, pacing back and forth in the hall.

Finally she stopped, asking Yuwei: "Still no news at all?"

Yuwei shook her head. "Shopkeeper Ye San said the emperor was escorted into the capital by cavalry, with more troops still on the road—Master Zhao may not have arrived yet."

The Grand Empress Dowager had already issued the edict making Prince Mu emperor; they were only waiting for the Imperial Observatory to select an auspicious date for him to offer sacrifices to heaven and his ancestors and formally ascend the throne. But everyone had already begun calling Prince Mu "His Majesty."

That bastard—since someone had entered the capital, why hadn't he sent word to her? Didn't he know how worried she was?

Fu Tingjun fanned herself vigorously twice, and only then did the anger in her heart subside a little.

"I suppose I'll have to wait until His Majesty ascends the throne," she said listlessly, then suddenly thought of another possibility.

Could he have been wounded during the campaign?

Is that why he couldn't send her word?

The thought flashed through her mind, and her fingertips gripping the fan had already turned faintly white.

No, she couldn't just wait like this.

If she waited any longer, she'd go mad.

Fu Tingjun sent for Master Lyu. "Go to the Duke of Fuguo's residence, will you? See if there's any news from the Marquis of Yingchuan," she murmured. "Everyone's saying it was the Duke of Fuguo himself who persuaded Li Hui to open the Zhengyang Gate, and the Iron Cavalry Camp founded by the Marquis of Yingchuan is famous throughout the northwest. I refuse to believe those cavalrymen around His Majesty have nothing to do with the Marquis of Yingchuan!"

Master Lyu acknowledged and left.

Fu Tingjun sighed, propped her elbow on the stone bench beneath the wisteria trellis, and stared blankly at the goldfish swaying gracefully in the large celadon lotus-patterned jar.

A breeze passed, and the wisteria blossoms hanging like willow strands brushed gently across her face. Her clear eyes were like a spring in the deep mountains—limpid, trickling, yet suffused with a silent loneliness.

When Zhao Ling walked into the courtyard, this was the sight that greeted him.

He felt his heart would break.

As if to shatter her solitude, he called out loudly: "Ajun!"

"Zhao Ling!" Fu Tingjun jumped to her feet.

Her almond-shaped eyes flew wide open, staring at him in shock, hardly daring to believe what she saw.

Her expression delighted Zhao Ling.

The corners of his mouth curled up high.

"Ajun!" His voice was as gentle as the spring sunshine of March.

"It's really you!" A sheen of tears glistened in Fu Tingjun's eyes, and her face bloomed with radiant joy as she ran toward him like a cheerful little bird. "When did you get back? I was so worried—why didn't you send me word? Were you hurt? Where have you been all this time..."

Each word flowed into Zhao Ling's heart like warm spring water.

He opened his arms and pulled Fu Tingjun tightly into his embrace.

"Nan Nan, Nan Nan!" he murmured her name, as if only this could reassure him that she was truly in his arms now, and not like countless nights when she appeared in his dreams, only to vanish when he opened his eyes searching for her. "Prince Mu has succeeded... no one will dare covet you anymore..." The reunion after separation made him unable to resist kissing her fair, delicate face. "Nan Nan, Nan Nan... I'll protect you for the rest of my life..."

Warm breath enveloped Fu Tingjun, and his soft lips burned like fire against her cheek. Her heart fluttered, and her body went weak, unable to muster any strength. Flustered, she tried to pull away—but her eyes caught the bright shafts of light streaming down through the wisteria trellis.

She gave a start.

"Let me go!" She pushed at him, half-embarrassed, half-annoyed. "We're, we're in the courtyard!"

The embarrassed voice struck Zhao Ling like a divine mantra, sending a jolt through his heart. Though reluctant, he released Fu Tingjun, yet his gaze stubbornly clung to her face, unwilling to move away even for a moment.

This bastard...

Fu Tingjun was mortified, quickly glancing around the courtyard.

In the quiet afternoon, only the pomegranate flowers were in full bloom.

She let out a breath of relief.

If Zheng Sanniang and the others had seen that, she would have died of shame.

Her face flushed like the morning glow, she lowered her head and said, "Let's, let's go inside to talk." She turned and entered the main room.

Zhao Ling followed, a smile in his eyes.

...

The black lacquered furniture gleamed like mirrors, and a Li Cheng ink painting hung in the center of the hall, with a celadon vase holding several bright red oleander branches.

Zhao Ling nodded inwardly, then looked at Fu Tingjun.

She was approaching with a crabapple-patterned pastel teacup.

In her rose-red Hangzhou silk blouse and bright blue Hunan skirt, her fair face glowed softly in the dim interior like a radiant pearl—there was no trace of the loneliness from moments ago.

Was it because he had returned?

Zhao Ling's heart filled with joy.

What could be more delightful than bringing happiness to someone?

Unable to resist, he clasped the hand that offered him the teacup.