Chapter 76

Zhao Ling had not taken his eyes off Fu Tingjun since he entered the room.

He watched her as she alternated between joy and sorrow; now her brows knit tightly together, now her face breaking into a smile... Every emotion was written plainly on her face, with a childlike sincerity that made his heart lighten just looking at her, and his desire to protect her grew even stronger.

"What exactly is the matter?" His voice softened even further. "Whatever it is, discussing it together is always better than keeping it bottled up inside. Don't you think?"

Yes!

But how could she say such things out loud?

Could she ask him whether he was truly sincere with her?

Would he go to her parents to propose marriage?

If her father gave him a cold reception, would he endure it for her sake?

If her identity were ever exposed one day, would he be willing to give up his career and future to protect her?

She dared not think about it, let alone ask.

Her eyes suddenly grew moist.

She could not shed tears in front of him.

She wanted his genuine protection, not his pity or sympathy.

Fu Tingjun blinked hard, forcing the moisture back into her body.

"Today I saw a couple quarreling on the street through the window," she said slowly. "It reminded me of things from the past, and I felt a little sad."

Is that so?

Zhao Ling was somewhat doubtful. But seeing the plaintive melancholy in Fu Tingjun's expression, he became uncertain himself.

Yet he was broad-minded by nature. Since he had already resolved to treat her wholeheartedly, even if she was unwilling to speak now, he only needed to pay attention and he would surely discover the truth eventually. He did not press her on such trivial details, instead smiling and telling her about his meeting with Mo Yi today, hoping to lift her spirits: "...That Lin Chi—I suspect he was the one who attacked me that night. Sometimes you can read a man's character at the drinking table. He struck me as a straightforward and generous sort, though I don't know what position he holds in the Divine Crossbow Camp."

Fu Tingjun forced herself to set aside her sorrow and gradually calm her emotions, making idle conversation with him: "Since Mo Yi was able to summon him, they must be on good terms privately. And since you see him as a straightforward man, why not just pretend not to know?"

"Naturally." Zhao Ling nodded with a smile. "Not to mention that we're in the same boat now—even if he were a complete stranger, he suffered a great loss that day and still didn't come looking for trouble with me, so I certainly won't go looking for trouble with him." He added, "It seems Mo Yi is very close with the Marquis of Yingchuan. When I mentioned wanting his help to invite the Marquis out for a meal, he agreed on the Marquis's behalf without a second thought. Tao Mu and Lin Chi both acted as if it were only natural. We'll likely have many occasions to call on Mo Yi's help in the future."

Fu Tingjun thought back to the first time she had seen Mo Yi at the City God Temple, and a faint smile appeared on her face: "At the time I only wondered where this brutish man had come from. Who would have thought he was a guerrilla general? It just goes to show you can't judge a person by appearances."

The two of them chatted desultorily like this, yet there was a rare warmth and tranquility between them. Though one felt it was getting late and time to return to his room, and the other felt it was cold and time to get into bed, neither was willing to broach the subject of parting.

The fourth watch drum sounded from outside.

Dawn would soon break.

Zhao Ling started, and quickly stood up. "Then I'll head back to my room first." Inwardly he regretted how talkative he had been on such a cold night. "You should get into bed and keep warm!" Fearing she might catch a chill, he added, "Have Zheng Sanniang brew you a bowl of ginger soup later."

Tomorrow—no, today—he still had to meet the Marquis of Yingchuan, and there might be heavy drinking at midday. Staying up all night and then going to social engagements was the worst thing for one's health. It was all his fault—he never knew when to stop once he started talking about outside affairs, and he hadn't even watched the hour. Fu Tingjun's voice carried a note of urgency: "You should go get some rest too!" Knowing there was no way to skimp on this drinking session, she added, "Remember to eat a few bites of food first before drinking to line your stomach."

Zhao Ling saw the concern brimming at the corners of her eyes and brows, and the way she fussed over him like a wife seeing off her husband on a long journey—his heart filled with indescribable joy. He hummed in acknowledgment, gazed at her with smiling eyes for a moment, then turned and left.

Fu Tingjun stood silently at the door, watching him reach his room, watching him turn back to wave at her, signaling her to go inside quickly, watching him frown in displeasure because she hadn't obeyed and was still standing there, watching him smile helplessly and shake his head with a sigh before pushing open the door to the guest room, watching him come back out worriedly to check, and seeing that she still hadn't gone inside, stride toward her with a cold face and a fierce bearing...

She smiled faintly, then suddenly turned and slammed the door shut, shutting him out. Leaning against the door, she covered her mouth to laugh, but her face was wet with cold tears.

...

Zhao Ling's affairs were progressing smoothly. He went out early and returned late every day, with an endless stream of social engagements. A Sen was young, and since Yang Yucheng and Jin Yuanbao would be following him to Zhuanglang Garrison, there were people they needed to meet as well—he only brought them along. Every night, A Sen would listen at the wall and then come running to report to Fu Tingjun.

"...Although the Marquis of Yingchuan didn't go out to dine with the master, when the master went to the General's residence, the Marquis's personal bodyguard was waiting at the gate in person, and led the master all the way to the Marquis's private office. The Marquis had the clerk of the General's residence summoned, and personally instructed the clerk to take the Marquis to the documentation office for registration. On the way out, they ran into Deputy General Liu, who stopped and asked who the master was. He praised the master as a young hero and told him to serve the court well in the future."

"...The master hosted Deputy General Liu at Xiqin Tower today, and Lord Peng, who governs Suzhou, and Lord Hu, who governs Xining, also came. They took turns toasting the master, but he only drank four or five cups before pretending to be drunk and had us help him back."

"...Lord Lin, a friend of General Mo, hosted a welcome banquet for the master at Xiqin Tower and brought seven or eight colleagues along. The master drank them all under the table."

Having heard so much, Fu Tingjun couldn't help but worry. She asked A Sen, "When is the master leaving for Zhuanglang Wei?" That way there would be fewer drinking banquets.

"I don't know!" A Sen shook his head, his big dark eyes rolling around. "How about I go ask for you, miss?"

Just as they were speaking, Zhao Ling arrived.

"Why doesn't the master have any social engagements today?" A Sen immediately scurried over attentively.

Zhao Ling patted his head. "Can't be a drunken debauch every day, can I?" But his eyes were on Fu Tingjun, as if the words were meant for her.

An inexplicable emotion bubbled up like spring water from beneath a spring's mouth, but she had already decided not to think about it anymore. Suppressing the strange feeling in her heart, she smiled and went to brew tea for Zhao Ling.

As Zhao Ling drank his tea, a hint of hesitation showed on his face.

He was decisive and resolute in his actions—what difficult matter could he have encountered?

At this thought, Fu Tingjun's heart softened, and she took the initiative to say, "Does Ninth Master have something on his mind? Feel free to speak plainly."

Zhao Ling thought for a moment upon hearing this, then said, "I'll be setting off for Zhuanglang Wei in the next few days. I think you should stay in Zhangye..."

Fu Tingjun was taken aback.

Zhao Ling quickly added, "It's livelier and more prosperous here, and Mo Yi can look after you..."

Fu Tingjun misunderstood his meaning.

The reason she had followed him to Zhangye in the first place was to serve as a "hostage." Now that she was in Zhangye, she naturally should stay somewhere Mo Yi could keep an eye on her at any time.

"Ninth Master, rest assured." She said softly. "I will stay quietly in Zhangye, keeping my doors tightly shut, so that Mo Yi can find no fault with me."

That's not answering the question at all!

Zhao Ling was momentarily bewildered before he came to his senses.

He couldn't help but feel ashamed.

This just proved that one shouldn't tell lies.

How was he to salvage this now?

If she were to misunderstand him as someone who would sell his wife for personal gain... Just thinking about it sent chills down his spine.

"It's not what you think," he said urgently. "Mo Yi and I have a good relationship now. Besides, once I'm at Zhuanglang Wei, he bears no ill intentions..." He realized he'd misspoken before he even finished. "No ill intentions"—didn't that imply there had been "ill intentions" before, and that he had brought her here for the sake of his own advancement? "It's my idea," he explained anxiously. "You've been traveling with me for over half a year now; you need some time to recuperate. Zhangye is a key stronghold in the northwest—whatever you want to eat or wear, you can find it all here..."

No one wants others to see their less admirable side.

For Zhao Ling, her having followed him to Zhuanglang Wei would be a form of submission to Sixteenth Master, Mo Yi, and the others.

"That's what I was thinking too." Fu Tingjun smiled. "Ninth Master need not worry about me—go to Zhuanglang Wei with peace of mind. I have Zheng San and his wife to look after me; nothing will happen. And even if something does, Zhuanglang Wei isn't far from here. I'll send word, and you can ride at full speed and arrive in seven or eight days."

Women were so duplicitous.

Clearly she minded terribly, yet she insisted on putting on a magnanimous air.

Fu Tingjun's dignified yet slightly distant smile, her considerate yet formal words, made Zhao Ling want to spit blood. They forced the words from the bottom of his heart: "I'm nothing but a minor banner officer at Zhuanglang Wei. If you come with me, above you there will be the wives and concubines of the chiliarchs, and below you the families of my colleagues. You'll have to smile at one after another... Better to live next door to Mo Yi. Though Mo Yi outranks me, the woman in his household is only a concubine. If she speaks pleasantly, you can chat with her; if she speaks unpleasantly, you can simply shut your door and do as you please..."

Was he afraid she would be wronged?

Fu Tingjun had already resolved to make her heart as still as dead water, yet tenderness uncontrollably spread like spring floods, making it hard to breathe, hard to speak.

She thought of that green-robed centurion.

In the end, Zhao Ling had only asked Mo Yi to send his personal bodyguard to escort the man back... And Wang Yi, the assistant commander guarding Zhuanglang Wei, had never appeared on his banquet invitation list. Clearly, things were not going as smoothly as A Sen had thought.

She could not help him in any way, but at least she could avoid causing him trouble, staying quietly in Zhangye so that he could focus on dealing with those people outside.

"Alright!" she said submissively. "I will do as Ninth Master says and remain in Zhangye."

Her words suddenly interrupted Fu Tingjun, and he and the book both turned to look at her.

Their eyes met, and Fu Tingjun's gaze was as gentle as the bright moonlight, leaving Zhao Ling speechless for a moment before he came to his senses.

What nonsense had he been saying?

But judging by Fu Tingjun's expression, she seemed to enjoy hearing it... and had immediately changed her attitude and stance.

Zhao Ling vaguely felt as though he had glimpsed something...