Chapter 162

Fu Tingjun, however, refused to let Zhao Ling gloss over the matter. She pouted and clung to him, insisting on knowing exactly what had happened.

Seeing how resolute she was, Zhao Ling knew there was no way around it. He could only say helplessly, "Wasn't the day of the Winter Solstice our day off? We didn't get to rest that day, and it wasn't until the twentieth of the twelfth month that we were given a day in compensation. Mo Yi invited a few of us to drink at Baishun Tavern, and then we ran into Magistrate Ma, the Right Assistant Commissioner of the Embroidered Uniform Guard's Right Guard. He insisted on having a singing girl brought in. After a few too many drinks, he was already spouting nonsense. I didn't want to deal with him, so I made an excuse that I had matters at home and needed to take my leave." As he spoke, a hint of coldness crept onto his face. "But that surnamed Ma, upon hearing this, started shouting that I wasn't giving him face, and even brought up his ancestors' deeds... When Mo Yi saw my displeased expression, he kept signaling me with his eyes and tried to persuade the surnamed Ma, saying that you were pregnant and there was no elder at home to look after you... Who knew that word would spread and get twisted along the way?"

Fu Tingjun's smile gradually faded. "What kind of background does this surnamed Ma have, to be so aggressive? Just because you wouldn't go drinking with him and his floozies, he slanders people like this!"

"What good background could someone like him have?" Zhao Ling said dismissively. "He's just afraid of being looked down upon, so he talks big. You don't need to take it to heart."

With matters like this, the more you argue, the more trouble it stirs up.

But Fu Tingjun still felt wronged on Zhao Ling's behalf. She couldn't help saying, "It's all that Mo Yi's fault. Why couldn't he say something else? He had to say I was pregnant and alone at home. Whenever you run into him, nothing good ever comes of it!" As she spoke, her eyes darted around, and she said, "Do you know about Mo Yi's family situation? Will his wife be coming to the capital?"

"The Mo family has many descendants. I only know that he's from the main branch of the clan, with one wife, two concubines, and four sons. I don't know much about the rest," Zhao Ling said. "Apparently, his wife will set out for the capital after the New Year with the concubines and sons. I estimate she should arrive around mid-April."

Most people wouldn't travel until after the Lantern Festival.

Fu Tingjun had an idea forming in her mind. She smiled and said, "Then we should go pay a visit when she arrives."

Zhao Ling shook his head with a smile upon hearing this. "Don't do anything rash!"

"Don't worry," Fu Tingjun said with a pursed smile. "I just want to teach him a lesson. It's his fault for always running his mouth." Seeing that Zhao Ling looked rather unconvinced, she smiled and leaned into his embrace, twirling the sash of his robe around her finger as she said, "I've been cooped up at home every day lately. You won't let me touch a needle, so all I do is read go manuals or practice calligraphy... I want to go burn incense at Tanzhe Temple. When will you accompany me there?"

Zhao Ling looked apologetic. "I'll find some time in the next couple of days to go with you."

But one "couple of days" after another passed, and Zhao Ling still couldn't find the time—first there was the Empress Dowager's birthday on the twenty-first of the second month, then the Empress's birthday on the twelfth of the third month, followed by the Imperial Birthday Festival on the twentieth of the third month... Fu Tingjun informed Zhao Ling, and with Zheng San escorting her and Yuwei accompanying her, she went to Tanzhe Temple.

Tanzhe Temple was over twenty li from the capital. Ancient trees towered within the grounds, pagodas stood in clusters, and the majestic halls were built along the mountainside with ingenious layout and pleasing arrangement. Bamboo groves and famous flowers dotted the scenery, creating an elegant and tranquil environment.

Fu Tingjun was already quite heavy with child. Supported by Yuwei, she laboriously performed the kneeling prostration before Guanyin Bodhisattva.

Yuwei hovered nervously at her side, guarding her. After Fu Tingjun had finished offering incense, Yuwei took her arm and couldn't help complaining in a low voice, "Madam, really—if there's something you need, you could just have us servants handle it. Why must you come all this way yourself? Or you could have told Ninth Master—he could have offered incense at the temple on your behalf. But you wouldn't agree no matter what. If you were to stumble or hurt yourself, how would I ever answer to Ninth Master..." As she spoke, some children who had come to the temple with their parents to offer incense ran past them, chasing each other. Yuwei shielded Fu Tingjun behind her, and only after the children had run off into the distance did she let out a sigh of relief and take Fu Tingjun's arm again.

Fu Tingjun watched the lively, adorable children and couldn't help but smile. "Sincerity is what makes prayers effective. Naturally, I had to come in person."

Yuwei seemed about to speak but held back.

She really couldn't figure out what wish Fu Tingjun could still have.

Ninth Master went without saying—he doted on Madam in every way. Even Fifth Master Fu, whom Madam had originally been most worried about, now turned a blind eye to Madam's affairs because of Ninth Master's influence...

As Yuwei pondered this, she heard Fu Tingjun let out a long sigh and murmur, "I came specially to pray to the Bodhisattva that I give birth to a boy."

Yuwei was stunned. It was a long moment before she said quietly, "But Ninth Master said he'd be happy with either a son or a daughter, didn't he? He even said that if the flowers bloom first and the fruit follows after, it would make a perfect 'hao' character, and nothing could be better than that. From the way Ninth Master looks, it doesn't seem like he's just saying that to please you..."

"I know." Fu Tingjun's eyes seemed to glisten slightly as she spoke. "It's precisely because Ninth Master treats me so well that I don't want to delay his future any longer." She recounted how Zhao Ling had tactfully declined the Emperor's offer on her behalf, "...Ninth Master is merely worried about me. If I bear a son, the Zhao family will have an heir, and with such matters settled, I imagine Ninth Master will have far fewer concerns."

This was the first time Yuwei had heard of this matter, and she couldn't help but say, "Madam, rest assured—the physician Ninth Master invited to take your pulse also said, 'A round belly means a daughter, a pointed belly means a son.'" She then gave Tingjun another look. "Your belly is pointed."

As the two spoke in hushed tones, they had already reached the massive incense burner, about twice a person's height, in the center of the courtyard before the Grand Buddha Hall. From the opposite direction, a group of guards, matrons, and maidservants in resplendent attire came bustling in, flanking two women.

One of them appeared to be around thirty-seven or thirty-eight years old. Her jet-black hair was styled in the fashionable peony bun of the capital, adorned with gold-and-jade hairpins. She wore a sapphire-blue brocade jacket, her skin fair and delicate, and her eyes sparkled with a sharp, penetrating brightness that carried a rare authority seldom seen in women.

The other was around seventeen or eighteen, with exquisitely beautiful features. She wore a lake-green plain Hangzhou silk jacket, and as her gaze wandered, it revealed a hint of allure that made worshippers turn their heads repeatedly. Yet she maintained a composed smile, allowing herself to be observed with grace. Occasionally, when her eyes met those of an onlooker, she would nod with a slight smile, her bearing elegant and captivating.

Fu Tingjun quickly lowered her head, adjusted her hood to hide her face in its shadow, and brushed past the group.

Yuwei, equally perceptive, kept her head down and followed Fu Tingjun. Only after they had exited the Guanyin Hall did she whisper, "Madam, who were those people? Why did you need to avoid them?"

"They are from the Yu family of Fengle Ward in Nanjing—Third Madam Shu," Fu Tingjun said. "If I'm not mistaken, the woman beside Madam Yu should be her daughter-in-law, Lady Fan."

Yuwei was startled.

Fu Tingjun quickly reassured her: "It's fine! This was just a coincidence—I heard that the young mistress of the Yu family has had difficulty conceiving, and Tanzhe Temple has a Guanyin shrine. Madam Yu must have brought her daughter-in-law here to pray for a child."

Yuwei felt a wave of lingering fear. "Thank goodness they didn't recognize you. If they had, how would you have explained yourself, Madam?" She added, "If only Fifth Master were willing to come forward on your behalf."

Fu Tingjun sighed at this as well.

In the eyes of others, she was still a daughter of the Fu family. It would be best if everyone could agree on a unified explanation for her presence.

Zuo Junjie's slander of her was, after all, a family matter of the Fu household, best resolved within the family itself.

As Yuwei had said, if her father were willing to step forward for her, why would she need to avoid Madam Yu?

She recalled sending a letter to Eldest Aunt through a messenger.

There had been no reply so far—she wondered if Eldest Aunt had even received it.

Perhaps she should write to Jinhua and consult Eldest Uncle, who was serving in office there, about how to handle this matter.

There would likely be quite a stir when that happened, wouldn't there?

Lost in thought, Fu Tingjun leaned on Yuwei's arm and slowly made her way down the mountain.

As they exited the temple gate, a group of beggars surrounded them.

"Kind madam, have mercy!"

"Madam, may you be blessed with a plump, healthy son!"

They clamored for alms.

Fu Tingjun noticed that among the beggars—besides two or three with graying hair and two or three children still with hair in childish tufts—there was actually a young man in a long scholar's robe. She couldn't help but take a second look.

No sooner had she looked than the man glanced back at her.

Their eyes met in midair...

Fu Tingjun let out a sharp gasp, while the young beggar turned and bolted.

"Quick, quick—seize that man!" Fu Tingjun cried out shrilly, pointing at the young beggar's retreating back. "He stole something from us!" Then she turned urgently to Yuwei and shouted, "Zuo Junjie—that man is Zuo Junjie!"

Yuwei's face went pale, and she gathered her skirts to chase after the young beggar.

Fu Tingjun wanted to give chase as well, but the other beggars blocked her path. "Madam, please be generous!"

She hastily fished out a few copper coins and scattered them.

The beggars scrambled in a swarm to snatch them up.

Taking advantage of the moment, Fu Tingjun hurried in the direction Zuo Junjie had fled.

Outside Tanzhe Temple, pedestrians streamed by, and Zheng San's carriage waited far off at the foot of the mountain.

Fu Tingjun wove through the crowd for a while, but saw neither hide nor hair of Zuo Junjie, nor any sign of Yuwei.

A dull ache began to stir in her belly.

She dared not continue searching and sat down on a stone railing to rest.

An elderly woman with a kindly face, carrying a basket of incense, approached and asked, "Young missus, what's the matter? Have you been separated from your family?"

"No," Fu Tingjun replied with a composed smile. "They've gone to buy something for me." But inside, her thoughts churned like crashing waves.

How had Zuo Junjie ended up in the capital?

When had he arrived?

And why was he begging near Tanzhe Temple?

The last time she and Zhao Ling came to Tanzhe Temple to burn incense, they had also encountered beggars—how was it that she hadn't seen Zuo Junjie then?

Her mind was in a jumble, and the old lady smiled, nodded, and walked away.

Not long after, Yuwei came looking for her.

She hurriedly supported Fu Tingjun: "Madam, he got away..."

Fu Tingjun saw that she was drenched in sweat and out of breath from speaking, so she quickly said, "Since he's come to the capital, even if we have to turn the entire city upside down, we will drag him out." With that, she stood up. "Come, let's go find Zheng San and have him figure out a way to get some men to help continue the search. I refuse to believe he can vanish without a trace, as if disappearing into thin air."

Yuwei nodded and helped Fu Tingjun toward where the carriage was parked. "He seemed very familiar with the area, I thought—darting right, then left, and slipping into a small alley before I knew it..."