Duke of Chu's Mansion, Bodhi Courtyard.
After Chu Huaishan recounted the court affairs, Yulu exclaimed in delight, "Heavens! My lady, you’re to be granted the title of County Mistress! And with a fief of five hundred households—half the County Mistresses in the capital don’t receive such privileges!"
Yet Chu Ruoyan paid no heed, fixing her gaze on her aunt instead. "Did he... truly say that?"
"Once pledged to one, the innocent shall not be implicated..."
Back then, she had only feared he might harm her father, so she extracted this promise from him.
But never had she imagined he would uphold it so steadfastly—especially knowing Cao Dong had slaughtered his entire family...
Her heart was a tumult of emotions. Chu Jing grasped her hand. "The Marquis of Anning did say those words. Ruoyan, that we escaped this calamity... it was likely entirely for your sake. So as your aunt, I beg you—go see him."
Chu Huaishan’s face was stern, but he conceded, "That boy did the nation a service by preserving its pillars of talent. Though I disapprove of your association, I acknowledge debts. Since he spared your aunt’s household, take generous gifts to repay this favor."
As they spoke, Chu Zhong entered, announcing the preparations were complete.
Stepping outside, Chu Ruoyan was met with the sight of ten massive chests of silver, alongside banknotes totaling fifty to sixty thousand taels!
She massaged her temples. "Father, your approach is rather..." Blunt, she nearly said. Who repays a debt with plain silver?
Chu Huaishan snorted. "After Yan Xu’s departure, the Yan family lost their banking and merchant income. With a household full of women, what do they lack if not silver? But mark my words—Yan the Third is unfit for you. Express gratitude, but don’t rekindle old flames."
Chu Ruoyan’s lips twitched.
---
Fortune Tavern
This time, Old Xu guarded the entrance. At the sight of her, he grinned. "Young Madam has arrived?"
Wary of the silver-tongued elder, she didn’t correct the address. "Is Yan... upstairs?"
Old Xu nodded, limping inward. As she followed, he suddenly remarked, "Young Madam, are you aware Prince Bao is dead?"
Chu Ruoyan stiffened. "When did this happen?"
Though stripped of his title and reduced to commoner status, Prince Bao was still the emperor’s sole surviving uncle.
Who would dare kill him?
Old Xu’s enigmatic smile unsettled her. "Surely it wasn’t..."
"Rest assured, Young Madam. Prince Bao died two nights ago—apoplexy during intercourse. The inner court investigated and closed the case." Anticipating her question, he added, "And fret not—per the Young Master’s orders, I merely visited the families of Prince Bao’s three former wives for... conversations. My hands remain clean."
Borrowed blades for murder!
Prince Bao had once relied on imperial favor to torture his wives to death. Now, bereft of protection, their families sought vengeance.
Karmic retribution. She felt no pity for the lecherous wretch, but frowned. "Too reckless! With the Yan family’s precarious standing, if anyone traced this back—"
Old Xu’s eyes warmed at her protective tone. "I said the same to the Young Master. His reply? ‘He deserved it.’"
Her breath caught.
Yan Zheng had done this solely because Prince Bao had coveted her.
Such reckless devotion—how could she ever repay it?
---
Heart heavy, she entered the private chamber. Yan Zheng stood by the window, gripping the sill—until his arms trembled, and he collapsed back into his chair.
"Yan Zheng!"
She rushed forward, finding his gaze dark and fixed on his legs. Only at her approach did his expression soften. "You came."
Kneeling, she brushed her fingers over his icy thighs. "Don’t rush. Chief Physician Zhang said recovery takes six months to stand, two years to fully heal. Haste makes waste—"
Her voice, soft as a brook, trailed off as she bowed her head, revealing the delicate nape of her neck.
Yan Zheng’s throat tightened. "I can’t wait."
When she looked up, his smoldering gaze trapped her. She flinched, but he seized her wrist.
"Ah-Yan, I know you disdain my legs—"
"I don’t!" she protested, only for him to lean in abruptly, his obsidian eyes swallowing her vision. "Then why retreat?"
Too close. Her pulse scattered, gaze darting helplessly.
"I—I wasn’t..."
"Hmm?"
Speech failed her. Every muscle tensed; her jade-like cheeks burned.
As Yan Zheng lowered his lips toward hers, memories of the Cao family, of Prince Bao, softened her resolve. She shut her eyes—
Swish.
He snatched a mosquito buzzing near her ear.
Relief flooded her—followed by an inexplicable pang of loss.
Yan Zheng’s heart soared. She feels it too.
But a hunter’s greatest virtue was patience.
And she was never merely prey.
"Ah-Yan," he said lightly, "to what do I owe this visit?"
"Oh! Father and Aunt sent gifts to thank you for sparing the Caos." She promptly had the chests brought in, forgetting he had demanded her presence.
As the silver was displayed, Yan Zheng’s frown deepened.
Embarrassed, she explained, "I know it’s... inelegant, but Father insisted the Yan family needs silver more than luxuries—"
Through gritted teeth, Yan Zheng muttered, "This isn’t repayment—it’s drawing a line."
That future father-in-law is too shrewd.
"What was that?"
"His Grace is considerate. I’m... delighted," he said flatly.
Only then did she relax. "Regarding the Caos... thank you. With the true culprit dead, what will you do now?"
Yan Zheng’s brow creased. "It’s not so simple."
A powerless consort like Cao Dong couldn’t have manipulated the Ministries of Revenue and War, let alone the military, without high-ranking accomplices.
Her eyes met his. "You suspect..."
Neither voiced the name.
With a bitter laugh, Yan Zheng said, "You must think me vile, doubting my own savior."
She shook her head. "Hearts change. Even your sister... your caution is justified."
His gaze softened. She always saw the good in others—yet never let it dull her thorns.
"But Cao Dong’s death severed all leads. Young Master Lang pursued his clues and left the capital. With nothing to investigate, Ah-Yan, return home and rest. I’ve asked Old Man Qin to examine you tomorrow."
Her chill ailment hadn’t recurred; she’d nearly forgotten. That he remembered...
A small smile curved her lips. "Very well."
The next day, Old Man Qin, the renowned physician, arrived as promised.
First, he took Chu Ruoyan’s pulse and advised her to continue taking the Anxi Huoluo Pills. Then, he examined Chu Jing and remarked, “Hah, you’re recovering even faster than your niece. Just two more courses of treatment, and you’ll be about there.”
Chu Jing froze in surprise. Chu Ruoyan cautiously asked, “What do you mean by ‘about there’…?”
“It means you’ll be cured, of course! Your body was damaged by all those reckless tonics like astragalus soup and ginseng concoctions, but treating it isn’t difficult. You won’t fully regain your former constitution, but things like marital relations or bearing children won’t be a problem.”
Chu Jing’s voice trembled. “Truly?”
Old Man Qin hated being questioned like this and snorted, “Don’t believe me? Go home and try it with your husband. If you can’t conceive, come find this old man, alright?”
Chu Jing burst into tears of joy. She had never dared to hope that her body, ruined by Old Madam Xue, could ever recover…
Chu Ruoyan said sincerely, “Thank you, Old Man Qin! Aunt, now you and Lord Cao can rest easy!”
Before Chu Jing could respond, her face flushing red, Old Man Qin suddenly leaned in. “What Lord Cao? Which Cao family? Don’t tell me it’s Cao Yang’s?”
Chu Jing nodded blankly. The old physician quickly added, “If it’s his family, bring him here too! Let this old man take a look at him. His younger brother Cao Dong is infertile—what if it’s an inherited condition…?”
The words struck like a thunderbolt!
Chu Ruoyan shot to her feet. “Old Man Qin, what did you just say? Who’s infertile?”
