Chapter 190

Zhao Ling felt that these days passed as blissfully as if he were living like an immortal, but days like those of the immortals always passed quickly.

In the blink of an eye, it was already mid-June.

An imperial decree came down from the palace, summoning Zhao Ling to appear before the emperor.

Fu Tingjun hurriedly helped Zhao Ling pack his things while speaking worriedly, "Didn't you say we wouldn't go back until the end of June? It's only mid-June now. Did you send someone to find out what this is about? If we had some advance warning, you'd know how to respond when you see the emperor!"

"It's most likely about the pacification of Guizhou," Zhao Ling said lazily, reclining on the cool couch, enjoying the pleasure of watching Fu Tingjun bustle around him. He smiled, "A few days ago, the Marquis of Yingchuan and He Fu left the capital at the same time that the Marquis of Longping was returning with his troops. The Ministry of Revenue and the Ministry of War quickly distributed the pensions for the fallen soldiers in Guizhou, but the matter of rewards has been temporarily held up. I estimate it should be settled within the next day or two."

Fu Tingjun paused in her work at these words, remembering Mo Yi's plan to pull Zhao Ling to Xuantong, and hesitated, "Then, will your situation change?"

"I already discussed this with Teacher Yao before," Zhao Ling sat up, his languid demeanor vanishing, replaced by sharp shrewdness. "I'll visit Teacher Yao again tonight, and I can also find out what the emperor intends by summoning me."

Fu Tingjun nodded, feeling somewhat reassured, and said, "Then let's return to the capital early tomorrow morning! Although the Zhang family has allocated another courtyard for us, we're still guests after all, and it's inconvenient..."

"Inconvenient for what?" Zhao Ling's lips curled with a smile, his gaze carrying a hint of teasing as he took her hand. "Even when we get home, it might not necessarily be convenient... Youyou sleeps in the side room of our inner chamber!"

Fu Tingjun blushed and spat at him with a "pfft."

Zhao Ling sighed dramatically and flopped back onto the cool couch, murmuring in a voice loud enough for Fu Tingjun to hear, "It seems I need to find a way to acquire a separate residence... Otherwise, it'll never be convenient!"

Fu Tingjun gently pinched his shoulder and chided, "Get up now. You need to go inform Lord Zhang."

Just as she finished speaking, Zhenzhu came in to report, "Lord Zhang has arrived."

Zhao Ling and Fu Tingjun exchanged a glance. "He must have heard the news."

Fu Tingjun nodded, and seeing Zhao Ling rise, she helped straighten his lake-blue Hangzhou silk robe before he left the inner chamber.

"Should I congratulate Lord Zhao here?" Lord Zhang said with a beaming smile at Zhao Ling. "In the pacification of Guizhou, your contribution was indispensable!"

"It's merely by the emperor's blessing and following His Majesty's will. Lord Zhang is too kind," Zhao Ling was modestly deflecting when Lord Zhang's brother-in-law, the deputy inspector of Zhangjiawan Inspection Post, arrived.

He was a burly, rough man with a voice like a gong, shouting from afar that he had come to see Zhao Ling off.

While Zhao Ling was declining his offer, Lord Zhang's uncle by marriage arrived...

In no time, the courtyard was filled with people coming to congratulate Zhao Ling.

Mrs. Zhang and Miss Zhang, upon hearing the news, also came over in a flurry to offer their congratulations to Fu Tingjun.

Fu Tingjun humbly deflected their praises and took the opportunity to bid farewell to Mrs. Zhang.

Mrs. Zhang tried repeatedly to persuade her to stay, but it was Lord Zhang who finally spoke up: "Going to the palace is a major matter and cannot be delayed. Since Lord Zhao has returned to the capital, he can't be without someone to take care of him. It's fine for Lady Zhao to rush back to the capital early tomorrow morning. The capital is only two days' journey from Zhangjiawan, and there will be plenty of opportunities to meet in the future. If they can't come to Zhangjiawan, we can go to the capital!"

Only then did the crowd disperse.

That afternoon, Zhao Ling hurried back to the capital, and the next day Fu Tingjun led the household back to the capital.

Mrs. Zhang and Miss Zhang came to see them off.

Youyou couldn't bear to part with Miss Zhang, her eyes brimming with tears, and Miss Zhang was equally reluctant to say goodbye to Youyou. She said to Fu Tingjun, "Sister-in-law, when you have free time, bring Youyou to stay at our home for a few days, won't you?"

Fu Tingjun looked at Mrs. Zhang and smiled, "Don't worry, don't worry. We'll definitely come in October."

Miss Zhang's face turned crimson, and Mrs. Zhang laughed heartily.

It eased the sadness of parting.

But as soon as she returned to the capital, Fu Tingjun heard that the Marquis of Longping had only received a single character added to his title for his military merits, while Mo Yi had received a hereditary position as Assistant Commander and been promoted to Xuantong Commander-in-Chief, and Zhao Ling had received a hereditary position as Centurion and been appointed Xuantong Deputy General.

"How can this be?" Fu Tingjun's face changed color at the news.

Zheng San, who had gathered the information, was also somewhat flustered: "Perhaps people are spreading rumors. We'll know once Ninth Master returns."

There is no smoke without fire.

Fu Tingjun clutched her handkerchief and paced around the house several times before she slowly calmed down.

If he really went to Xuantong, what would she do?

The thought flashed through her mind, and her face immediately flushed crimson.

He had been away from home before—why was she so restless this time?

Those romantic nights in Zhangjiawan suddenly surfaced in her mind... and her heart began to feel unsettled.

She couldn't help but walk to the small shrine enshrining a statue of Sakyamuni Buddha, pressed her palms together, closed her eyes, and silently prayed: "May the Buddha protect my husband and grant his wishes come true..."

But when Fu Tingjun saw Zhao Ling, whose expression carried a hint of displeasure, walking side by side into the courtyard with a rather smug-looking Mo Yi, her heart gave a sudden lurch, and she couldn't help but reveal a wry smile.

Yet Mo Yi, completely oblivious, said to her as if seeking credit: "Well? Not bad for your big brother, eh? I didn't forget Brother Huchen when something good came along!"

"Huchen?" Fu Tingjun stared at Zhao Ling in astonishment.

Before Zhao Ling could speak, Mo Yi burst into laughter and said, "Well? Not a bad courtesy name, is it? The best part is that the Emperor himself bestowed it—this morning in the side hall of the Qianqing Palace, the Emperor gave it in front of all the Grand Secretaries, and Grand Secretary Shen very obsequiously wrote out the two characters. The calligraphy is in Anxin's hands." Then he called out loudly, "Anxin, show your mistress Grand Secretary Shen's calligraphy—your mistress comes from a scholarly family." He turned to Fu Tingjun with a smile and added, "If by any chance you don't like it, you can take it to the Wenmo Studio on Jiadao Street. They say Grand Secretary Shen's inscriptions now go for ten taels of silver a piece—while he's still Grand Secretary, you might as well unload it sooner rather than later."

No matter how much displeasure Fu Tingjun felt, it was dissipated by Mo Yi's jesting banter, not to mention the happy occasion of the Emperor bestowing a courtesy name on Zhao Ling.

She couldn't help but let out a chuckle, then turned and called for Zhenzhu to serve them tea.

Mo Yi seized the opportunity to say, "Our two families are as close as can be. Why do you still call me 'General Mo'? Why not follow the children and call me 'Elder Uncle'?"

Fu Tingjun glanced at Zhao Ling, and seeing him give a slight nod, she smiled and curtsied to Mo Yi, addressing him as "Elder Uncle."

Mo Yi laughed heartily and said to Zhao Ling, who had remained silent, "How about we make it even closer? I have four boys—take your pick, whichever one you like, and I'll give him to you as a son-in-law!"

Fu Tingjun was greatly alarmed.

How could matters of children's marriage be so rash?

She herself was a living example.

"You haven't been drinking, have you? Why are you already talking nonsense?" Zhao Ling said without ceremony. "Let's discuss what we should do once we reach Xuantong." Fearing Mo Yi might continue his nonsense, he dispatched Fu Tingjun, saying, "Brother Mo will be staying for dinner."

Fu Tingjun acknowledged and withdrew.

After seeing Mo Yi off, the couple sat together on the large kang by the window in the inner chamber to talk.

"When the Emperor summoned me privately, he told me that although Qin Feiyu is highly skilled in martial arts, leading troops in battle isn't a matter of martial skill alone," Zhao Ling said in a low voice. "He told me to study military formations and strategy diligently under Mo Yi, so that in the future I can hold my own."

Qin Feiyu had been a guard at the Emperor's Former Residence, and later rendered the merit of following the dragon. After the Emperor ascended the throne, he appointed him Deputy Commander of Datong.

Fu Tingjun was shocked: "Could it be that Lord Qin he..."

Zhao Ling said quietly, "The Emperor has transferred him back to the capital, appointing him as Commander of the Tengji Guard."

Fu Tingjun wiped her brow: "Then wouldn't you be transferred to Datong in the future?"

Seeing the tense atmosphere, Zhao Ling teased, "You're so certain I can manage?"

"If you can't, then no one else can." Fu Tingjun straightened her back, speaking with great confidence.

Zhao Ling laughed, but then his smile faded: "The Emperor wants us to set out after the Mid-Autumn Festival. From now on, matters at home will again rest on your shoulders alone..." A look of guilt appeared on his face.

"A good man aspires to the four corners of the earth." Fu Tingjun quickly said. "Surely it can't be harder than our time in Zhangye?"

"That's true." Zhao Ling smiled again, and comforted Fu Tingjun, "But I'll return to the capital every year to report on my duties, and I'll stay home for a while then..."

But in the end, it wouldn't be like now, seeing each other constantly...

Though they had not yet parted, just thinking about it made Fu Tingjun's eyes grow moist... but she didn't want Zhao Ling to see her unease... She threw herself into Zhao Ling's arms, rubbing her face against his chest, trying to wipe away the moisture in her eyes, yet all that lingered around her nose was that familiar and warm scent... Zhao Ling's forbearing expression suddenly flashed through her mind... When he left, she had been pregnant; when he returned, she was still in mourning. First she was occupied with Youyou, then she was mindful of being in the Zhang family's side courtyard—more often than not she had been half-reluctant, giving him little satisfaction... Once he left this time, who knew when husband and wife would see each other again... At this thought, her heart suddenly ached as if twisted.

She raised her head, her tear-washed eyes glistening like gems in the lamplight: "Isn't there still two months?"

Zhao Ling was momentarily stunned, not understanding her meaning.

A flush of red crept up Fu Tingjun's cheeks. Lowering her head, she pushed Zhao Ling down onto the large kang.

Zhao Ling couldn't believe it.

He cupped her face in his hands, gazing at her in astonishment.

She felt as if her whole body were being scorched by fire, and with half-lowered eyelids she murmured, "Isn't there still two months?"

Zhao Ling understood.

He laughed heartily.

Then he turned and pressed Fu Tingjun beneath him.

His bright gaze blazed with fiery intensity, like the scorching summer sun. "Ajun, you really do something to me!" His hand, already impatient, slipped beneath her garments.

Fu Tingjun struggled.

Zhao Ling assumed she was merely uncomfortable from his haste, so he propped himself up on his elbows.

Fu Tingjun rolled over, pressing Zhao Ling beneath her once more. Mimicking his earlier actions, she slid her hand into his robes, murmuring, "Let me..."

Zhao Ling's eyes, brimming with amusement, fixed on her without moving as he slowly released his grip...

Fu Tingjun blew out the lamp on the kang table.

In the quiet night, amidst the soft moans, occasional words drifted out—"Hurry up," "I've no strength left"...