Chapter 67

The next day, at the break of dawn, the residence on Willow Lane was already bustling with activity.

Madam Lyu and Luwei were in the kitchen making flatbreads and steaming buns, preparing both the morning meal and provisions for the road. After all, in a year of famine, once they left Xi'an Prefecture, there was no telling where they might find food to buy.

Master Lyu directed Sanfu and Shizhu to carry out the trunks and cases that had been prepared earlier. Everyone chatted and laughed as they shuttled back and forth between the main hall and their respective rooms—some carrying bundles, some hugging bedrolls, some holding vessels—packing up their belongings.

An old servant came in to report: "The horse dealer is here!"

They were not yet qualified to obtain official travel permits from the Garrison Command, which meant they could not enjoy the privilege of staying at post stations or using their carts and horses. How to get to Zhangye would have to be their own problem. Early yesterday morning, Jin Yuanbao had asked the carter Ma Er to help select a few horses and purchase a large cart.

Hearing the report, he set down his work and called for Sanfu, who knew horses: "Come take a look with me. Don't let anyone pass off inferior goods as quality and swindle us. Otherwise, we'll be walking to Zhangye."

"That couldn't happen." Sanfu laughed and walked out the door with Jin Yuanbao. "I won't boast about anything else, but this skill of judging livestock was personally taught by Ninth Master. If I were to be fooled, then I'd deserve the loss."

Yang Yucheng burst out laughing. But after just two chuckles, he clutched his head and plopped down into the armchair, calling for A Sen: "Go to the kitchen and get me some vinegar." He muttered, "Damn it, that liquor is truly potent."

A Sen acknowledged and left.

Master Lyu chuckled.

Yang Yucheng was feeling unwell and irritable. Looking at all the things filling the room, he couldn't help but exclaim: "Why don't I see that fellow Zheng San? We're leaving this afternoon—he should at least show his face and lend a hand!"

Master Lyu also found it somewhat strange, but still, wanting to keep the peace, he said: "Perhaps something delayed him."

Just as the two were speaking, Zhao Ling emerged, wearing a lilac-colored robe cinched with a sash, looking neat and sharp. He instructed Yang Yucheng: "Go to Baoqing Silver Shop right away and exchange two thousand taels of silver. Miss Fu has need of it!"

"Ah!" Yang Yucheng's mouth fell open. He glanced at the things filling the room and said with a troubled look: "Right now?"

Zhao Ling nodded: "Right now." Then he said to Master Lyu: "In a while, you'll accompany Miss Fu on an outing. See what instructions she has and what she buys..." He paused thoughtfully, "If it's just items worth a few dozen taels, let her do as she pleases. But if it's hundreds or thousands of taels, help her check the authenticity. Also... if Miss Fu goes to a temple, send someone to inform me!"

Last night, Fu Tingjun had left cheerfully enough, but he had tossed and turned for half the night without sleeping. The more he thought about it, the more he worried that she had been moved by the abbot of Daxingshan Temple and planned to donate alms at the Dharma assembly on the first day of the ninth month.

Master Lyu was startled: "What happened?"

Out of consideration for Fu Tingjun's reputation, Zhao Ling spoke vaguely without elaborating.

When Yang Yucheng heard that Master Lyu would also be accompanying Miss Fu out early in the morning, he pointed at the things in the hall and said hesitantly: "Then what about this?"

"We'll pack up when we get back." Zhao Ling said dismissively. "Let's take care of Miss Fu's business first. Whether we leave an hour earlier or later doesn't matter much."

Yang Yucheng called for Shizhu and trudged out the door with his head hanging.

Only then did Zhao Ling call Master Lyu aside and give him detailed instructions.

Master Lyu nodded repeatedly: "Master, rest assured. I understand."

Then he followed Fu Tingjun the whole way. Who would have thought—Fu Tingjun, accompanied by Zheng Sanniang, only bought cotton-padded clothes and fur jackets along the way, not even a single piece of jewelry. She spent less than two hundred taels and shopped for less than an hour.

"Would you like to buy anything else?" Master Lyu asked suspiciously.

"There's nothing else I need." Fu Tingjun smiled and climbed into the carriage. "Let's hurry back!" She didn't mention going anywhere else.

Master Lyu was filled with confusion. When he reached the entrance of Willow Lane, he ran into Zheng San, who had disappeared early that morning.

Zheng San was driving a black-lacquered carriage with a flat front.

"This is..." Master Lyu pointed at the carriage, puzzled.

Zheng San smiled: "Miss Fu ordered it purchased."

The commotion had already alerted Zhao Ling, who was by the gate with Jin Yuanbao, inspecting whether the carts and horses were properly prepared. He strode over quickly, calling out from a distance: "What's going on?"

Zheng San replied respectfully: "Miss Fu said we're also going to Zhangye. Early this morning, she had me go buy a carriage."

The news came so suddenly that Zhao Ling was dumbfounded, unable to react for a long moment.

Jin Yuanbao and Master Lyu exchanged bewildered glances, not knowing what to say.

For a moment, the only sounds on Willow Lane were the horses' loud snorts and the restless "clop-clop" of hooves pawing at the bluestone slabs—making the stillness of Willow Lane all the more pronounced.

Fu Tingjun, through the carriage curtain, watched Zhao Ling's somewhat dazed expression. For reasons she couldn't quite explain, a sense of smug satisfaction bubbled up inside her, and she wanted even more to make Zhao Ling feel astonished.

Supported by Zheng Sanniang, she descended from the carriage unhurriedly.

Only then did Zhao Ling snap out of his stupor.

Shock and joy warred within him.

What shocked him was that Fu Tingjun, without a word, had secretly prepared all the supplies for the journey without telling him; what delighted him was that he hadn't been harboring feelings alone—Fu Tingjun had actually chosen to go with him to Zhangye... But in the next moment, that delight turned to anger.

Did she even understand what kind of decision she was making? Did she know what kind of situation she would face in the future? Without consulting anyone, she had taken it upon herself to decide to go to Zhangye!

Yet he forgot that he was the one who had set this all in motion.

His expression darkened, and in a stiff tone, he asked Fu Tingjun to step aside for a word.

Any man with a shred of honor could never tolerate his betrothed being taken as a hostage—let alone Zhao Ling.

Fu Tingjun had known all along that once he learned of her decision, he would absolutely refuse to let her accompany him to Zhangye. That was precisely why she had kept it from Zhao Ling.

Now that the matter was out in the open, Zhao Ling would certainly want to speak with her privately.

She didn't refuse, silently following him into the study.

"You're staying in Xi'an Prefecture—there's no room for negotiation on this." The moment her foot crossed the threshold of the study, Zhao Ling dropped those weighty words. "I'll send word to the capital. Within two months at most, there will be a reply."

His face was cold and stern, carrying a hint of chilling severity that made his resolve and determination unmistakable.

Fu Tingjun, however, was unimpressed.

He had once tried to strangle her, and she had survived that just fine. When he knew she had nowhere to go and was annoyed to death by it, he still hadn't abandoned her; when they encountered Feng Laosi, he had hidden her in a water vat; at the City God Temple, even when he was delirious with fever, he had shielded her behind him... He was just fierce-looking, that was all.

"I overheard everything you said with Young Master Yang and Young Master Jin in the study." Since things had come to this point, there was no need to hide anything, so she spoke openly. "Why did Mo Yi ask about me? Because I told him you and I were 'betrothed.'" Though she told herself this was a serious matter, not some romantic trifle that required bashfulness, she still couldn't help a flush of red rising to her cheeks. "If I hadn't spoken out of turn, how could things have come to this?" She said slowly, "Since this started because of me, I must bear the responsibility." Her voice carried an unwavering determination.

"If anyone is to bear responsibility, it should be me." Zhao Ling's expression grew even darker. Had it not been to save him, would she have said such a thing?! Now that a problem had arisen, he was a man—when had it ever been a woman's place to shoulder the burden? "You don't need to concern yourself with this. Just stay put at Willow Lane." His attitude was even more resolute than hers. He turned to leave, looking as though there was nothing more to discuss.

She knew it would come to this!

Watching his retreating figure, Fu Tingjun said slowly, "Then I'll go by myself!"

Zhao Ling spun around, glaring at her with a fierce expression, veins bulging at his temples.

Fu Tingjun smiled, straightened her back, and walked past him with her chin held high.

Her resolute stance needed no further explanation.

Zhao Ling felt a splitting headache coming on.

He knew that trying to make Fu Tingjun back down with that cold, fierce look was no longer possible.

"Miss Fu!" he called out to her. "This isn't as simple as you imagine..." A trace of helplessness he himself hadn't noticed crept into his voice.

But with her back to him, Fu Tingjun's lips curled upward.

Aren't you angry?

Aren't you giving me that stern face?

Besides that, what else can you do to me?

Her mood could almost be described as cheerful.

"I do think of it simply." Fu Tingjun turned around, gazing at Zhao Ling with certainty. "But I believe some complicated matters are best solved with simple methods—they're more effective." Just like this time—if she had consulted Zhao Ling, she wouldn't have gotten to go to Zhangye, let alone gotten her hands on those two thousand taels of silver, much less been able to act according to her own wishes. Now she had money and people at her disposal, which made her feel even more secure. "If Ninth Master thinks I'll slow everyone down, why not split up—you all go ahead, and I'll follow shortly after, escorted by Zheng San."

Zhao Ling suddenly understood why Fu Tingjun had asked him for silver.

It was her travel money, and also her daily expenses once she reached Zhangye.

He had found the people, he had given the money—wasn't this just shooting himself in the foot?

Zhao Ling muttered to himself, though his expression grew even colder and harsher.

"Nonsense!" he barked in a low voice. "Do you know how far Zhangye is from here?" It was a rhetorical question; he didn't need her answer. "From Xi'an Prefecture to Zhangye is two thousand four hundred and forty-six li, passing through forty-three relay stations, a journey of one hundred and ten days..."

"It is a bit far!" Fu Tingjun interrupted Zhao Ling, frowning with a look of great distress. "No wonder you're worried." As she spoke, a hint of slyness flickered in her eyes. "But if I were to send someone to deliver a letter to Mo Yi, do you think he would send someone to come fetch me?"

...

From the back courtyard came Fu Tingjun's cheerful and crisp voice: "No need to bring this one—Zhangye is sure to have it for sale. Bring this along; it'll be something to read when you're bored on the road. And this one too—I hear the wind and sand are fierce there..."

In the front hall, everyone watched Zhao Ling, who stood under the eaves with a face as dark as iron, and their expressions grew more cautious. They packed the trunks with light, careful movements, afraid that any noise they made would provoke the man before them, which only made Fu Tingjun's voice from the back courtyard sound all the more pleasant and melodious.

Zhao Ling suddenly pressed his hand to his forehead and laughed.

Enough. Enough.

If she, a young woman, wasn't afraid, then how could he, a man of honor, be?

Since they had already come this far, whatever hardships and obstacles lay ahead, he would simply face them with composure.

There were always more solutions than problems.

He didn't dare to seriously examine whether this was a resigned compromise, or an excuse for the stubborn obsession buried deep in his heart that he had yet to let go of.