Chapter 57

Rabbit lanterns, lotus lanterns, watermelon lanterns, and an exquisite octagonal glass revolving lantern illuminated the courtyard brilliantly.

Two black-lacquered round tables, one large and one small, stood in the middle of the courtyard, separated by a folding screen made of Lingshan stone. Blue-and-white porcelain plates were piled with pears, apples, grapes, mooncakes, melon seeds, peanuts, and watermelon cut into slices.

Zheng Sanniang and Lyu family's maid Luwei were by the steps boiling water to prepare tea, while A Sen ran around the courtyard with Linchun perched on his shoulders, Linchun's giggles scattering across the ground.

Yang Yucheng, seated at the large round table with Master Lyu, laughed and scolded A Sen: "Be careful, you'll frighten the child!"

Zheng San, carrying a jar of wine as he walked in, quickly said, "No matter, no matter—children like children."

Madam Lyu chuckled from behind the screen.

Zhao Ling, stepping out of the side chamber, gazed at everything before him, feeling an unprecedented peace and tranquility in his heart.

Wasn't this what he had long hoped for?

He had thought only by returning to Jiangnan and settling those past affairs could he feel this way. Unexpectedly, the scene from his dreams had appeared before him so abruptly.

Let go of the obsessions in his heart, take a step back, and the sky opens wide.

It turned out that what he wished for, what he longed for, had always been right beside him, right before his eyes.

He couldn't help but look up, searching for Fu Tingjun.

Fu Tingjun sat beside Madam Lyu. Compared to her simple and plain appearance of the past two days, she had clearly dressed up specially today. She wore a moon-white cocoon silk jacket with right-side lapels, the hem and cuffs embroidered with lake-green persimmon patterns, and a lake-colored eight-panel skirt with a border trimmed in lake-green floral and grass motifs. Gold lantern-shaped earrings inlaid with lapis lazuli swayed gently against her jade-white face, graceful and alluring.

Zhao Ling felt his heart skip a beat, as if it had stalled.

Sensing someone's gaze, Fu Tingjun looked up.

Her face was like a delicate lotus blooming in summer.

Seeing it was Zhao Ling, she pressed her lips into a smile, her eyes more dazzling than gems.

"Ninth Master." Fu Tingjun rose and gave a slight bow.

Hearing the commotion, the others looked over and called out "Ninth Master" one after another.

Zhao Ling smiled and clasped his hands in greeting to everyone, then took a seat beside Master Lyu.

Master Lyu and the others all stood up.

"No need for formalities today," Zhao Ling said with a smile. "It's rare to be this happy."

"Yes, indeed!" Yang Yucheng was the first to sit down. "A celebration for all, a celebration for all."

Everyone laughed and took their seats without ceremony.

Yang Yucheng promptly ordered tea to be served.

Luwei brought the tea up.

Zheng Sanniang carried Linchun back to her seat by the stove, peeled grapes, and fed them to the child. A Sen, now free, sat down beside Zhao Ling.

"Ninth Master," he said with great enthusiasm, "after the Mid-Autumn Festival, will you become an official?" His clear, childish voice was innocent and carefree.

Everyone laughed again.

"I told Lord Wu that I still have some personal matters to attend to," Zhao Ling said, his gaze inadvertently flickering toward Fu Tingjun. "I'll report to the Dusi Garrison on the twenty-fifth of the eighth month."

"Ah!" A Sen jumped up excitedly. "I'll be an official's servant from now on! I'll be an official's servant from now on!"

Everyone burst into laughter, doubling over.

Luwei, serving tea, glanced up and quickly stole a look at Zhao Ling. A sudden blush spread across her pretty face, and she swiftly scanned the seated guests. Seeing that everyone was looking at Zhao Ling and no one had noticed her, she let out a long, quiet sigh of relief.

Why glance at her when speaking, as if explaining something to her?

The thought flashed by, and Fu Tingjun's ears burned.

It was because that day, upon meeting him, she had asked whether he had gone to see Lord Wu at the Dusi Garrison!

At the time, she had only been anxious about a change in circumstances. Now that she thought about it, she—she had seemed like a young wife urging her husband to study and seek official rank...

Surely Zhao Ling wouldn't think that way too?

At that thought, Fu Tingjun was startled.

No, no—it couldn't be what she feared...

Overcome with shame, she couldn't help but turn sideways to look at Zhao Ling.

He was listening to Master Lyu speak: "...I have always worried about Ninth Master. If Ninth Master can think of joining the army, of taking... taking the official path, then from now on, I can sleep soundly." Under the lamplight, a glimmer of moisture appeared at the corners of his eyes.

Zhao Ling was quite surprised.

He hadn't expected his actions to cause such worry.

If his parents were still alive, would they have been like Master Lyu?

And the Ninth Miss of the Fu family—she must have started pondering this when she saw Sixteenth Master give him the name card, or she wouldn't have figured out all the intricacies, nor persuaded Yang Yucheng to follow her plans.

His gaze unconsciously drifted toward Fu Tingjun.

Their eyes met.

Fu Tingjun was deeply embarrassed and wanted to look away, but she caught a trace of bewilderment in his eyes.

She was momentarily stunned.

Today was a day of great joy. From now on, he would walk the proper path—why did he feel lost?

Could it be that the so-called proper path everyone spoke of was not what he wanted?

She began to feel uneasy.

After all, this whole matter had been brought about by her own doing.

Ten thousand taels of gold cannot buy affection.

If one does not like something, even the best can be found lacking. At such a point, let alone building a career, even keeping him content in the military camp would be a form of torment. Just as she disliked painting landscapes—the moment she picked up a brush, her heart grew restless, let alone trying to copy them! She had even thrown her brush into the pond out of frustration.

If that were truly the case, she would need to find a way to counsel and comfort him.

She was so absorbed in her own emotions that she momentarily forgot Zhao Ling was still watching her.

What Zhao Ling met were a pair of eyes as startled as a young deer's.

He was surprised.

Why was she flustered?

Was it because he had caught her looking at him?

At this thought, his heart could not help but pound wildly.

Could it be that she... she was secretly stealing glances at him?

The moment this notion arose, his heart softened to the extreme, and it beat even faster.

But soon, a trace of melancholy seeped into those startled eyes.

Why was she sad?

Was it because she felt alone during the Mid-Autumn Festival, without family by her side?

Zhao Ling suddenly felt a wave of restlessness.

Jin Yuanbao would surely return before the twenty-fifth of the eighth month. He wondered how Madam Fu planned to arrange for her daughter. As far as he knew, the remaining relatives on Madam Fu's natal side were all beyond the fifth degree of mourning kinship, and since Ninth Miss of the Fu family had been cast out of the clan for such reasons, rather than seeking refuge with relatives separated by countless generations, it would be better for her to stay at Willow Lane. After all, he would soon be joining the army, and whether he could ever return to Xi'an Prefecture was still an open question.

Having made up his mind, he felt somewhat settled.

He mused that he should still let her in on this intention, so as to spare her from being anxious all day. She had been drugged before, and he had expended great effort to cure her of most of it—he must not let her fall into melancholy and relapse.

Having resolved this, he was just about to stand and say something when Master Lyu raised a toast to him: "Ninth Master, you not only saved the lives of us old folks, but also avenged my son, my daughter-in-law, and my grandson. Great kindness needs no words of thanks—I'll say no more. A humble cup of wine, to express my gratitude!" With that, he tipped his head back and drained his cup first.

Zhao Ling smiled and raised his own cup, but Fu Tingjun's startled cry came from behind the screen: "Ninth Master, you have not yet recovered from your illness—please use tea in place of wine!"

The moment her words fell, the courtyard fell silent.

Everyone stared in astonishment toward the folding screen.

Fu Tingjun, seated behind the screen, wished only that a crack would open in the earth so she could crawl into it.

How had she blurted out such words?

In front of so many people, even his wife would not have spoken to him like that... let alone her?

He must feel terribly embarrassed, surely thinking her a willful, unreasonable person!

Fu Tingjun lowered her head, wishing she could die on the spot.

From behind the screen came Zhao Ling's calm and even voice: "Ah, I had forgotten about that. You all drink your wine—I'll have tea instead!"

Fu Tingjun raised her head, staring at the screen in utter disbelief.

What did he say?

"You all drink your wine—I'll have tea instead"... That even, peaceful voice seemed to linger by her ear, and her heart slowly came back to life, bit by bit.

He... he had not blamed her.

The moment this thought arose, her heart clenched again.

Was he merely giving her a way out in front of everyone? Or did he truly not harbor any anger toward her?

Her slender brows, soft as fine feathers, knitted tightly together.

Madam Lyu, seated across from her, watched with flickering eyes, then smiled and patted her hand: "You meant well, and Ninth Master can appreciate that. Otherwise, he would not have said he'd drink tea instead of wine. You know, Ninth Master has quite a capacity for liquor!"

Is that so?

Fu Tingjun's heart was in turmoil. She dared not make another sound, listening instead to the conversation at the table outside.

"...Originally, I thought there were some matters Ninth Master could not handle personally, so when you said you wanted me to look after the residence, I agreed without a second thought. Now that Ninth Master has decided to join the army, I should return this residence to you." Master Lyu said with great relief. "While you still have some free time these days, I'll go with you to the government office and the registry to transfer the deed of this property, and also settle the accounts from these past few years." Then he added, "I used to work as a shop steward. Though I'm old now, I've never been idle—I often stroll the streets, observing what businesses might thrive. Over the years, I've gained some insights. If Ninth Master does not disdain my service, I would be honored to serve as your steward!"

This residence had cost a considerable sum back then, yet now it held little weight in his eyes. The Lyu couple had guarded this house for years—even without great merit, they had put in their toil, and giving it to them would not be excessive. As for business, he had always known of Master Lyu's abilities, but he had long been thinking of returning to Jiangnan and had never given it any thought.

Zhao Ling was about to refuse, but the words died on his lips.

He should first settle the matter of Ninth Miss of the Fu family before anything else.

"If Ninth Miss Fu really has nowhere to go, then this residence and these shops might as well be given entirely to Madam and Mister Lyu."

"Let's set that matter aside for now," he said. "There's something else I'd like to ask everyone." Zhao Ling's expression turned serious. "I've already come to an agreement with Lord Wu. When the time comes, I'll bring a few brothers who are as close to me as kin to enlist in the army. Who among you would like to come with me?"

"Ah!" Yang Yucheng and the others beamed with delight.

To have their identities cleansed, to be able to live openly and honestly from then on... who wouldn't be overjoyed at that prospect?

"I'll go with Ninth Master." Yang Yucheng was the first to speak up.

"I want to go with Ninth Master too." Sanfu and Shizhu said in unison.

Sanfu was past thirty, and Shizhu was two or three years younger. Both were of medium build with honest, unassuming faces—one appearing rather dull and taciturn, the other looking simple and plain.

"Very well then. Let's wait for Yuanbao to return and see what he plans to do. When the time comes, we'll all go to the Military Command Office together to see Lord Wu." As Zhao Ling spoke, he glanced toward the folding screen, as if wanting to gauge Fu Tingjun's reaction.

Fu Tingjun felt a pang of loss listening to this.

Once Jin Yuanbao returned, it would be time for her to leave as well!

A sense of urgency rose within her.

The matter of urging him to enlist in the army, and just now stopping him from drinking... she needed to explain all of this to Zhao Ling as soon as possible. Otherwise, once she left, wouldn't this misunderstanding never be resolved!

Fu Tingjun hoped she could leave Zhao Ling with a good impression.