When he said a hug, it was just a hug. Since he had already wished her a long and happy life with someone else, Zhang Shen restrained himself to a brief embrace before letting Zhu Qingyu go.
Zhu Qingyu waved the dowry list in her hand and said with a smile:
"Jingyan, I'll take the list, but you keep the things here. Whenever I'm truly short on silver, I'll come to you for it."
Zhang Shen understood—her meaning was simply that she wasn't taking it at all.
When it came to matters of money, this wasn't the first time she had drawn such a clear line between them.
Zhang Shen still remembered that when they had been married for a full month, the steward came to settle the accounts. He discovered that besides her monthly allowance, she hadn't withdrawn even a single coin. He had even specifically told Zhu Qingyu that if she needed money, she could just go to the steward directly—he had already informed the steward that the madam could draw however much she needed without asking for his approval.
At the time, Zhu Qingyu had answered very pleasantly:
"Alright, when I need it, I'll go to the steward to get it."
But another month passed, and Zhu Qingyu still hadn't withdrawn a single coin. Zhang Shen thought the servants were secretly mistreating her, and he was absolutely furious.
At the time, Zhang Shen had even devoted an entire day to summoning every servant in the manor, starting from the head steward, questioning them one by one.
It wasn't until Zhu Qingyu returned from the medical clinic and noticed that the atmosphere in the manor was off, and asked him what was wrong, that she learned about this huge misunderstanding. She laughed, half exasperated:
"No, what are you imagining all day long? The household provides everything for food, clothing, and shelter—I don't need to handle anything. I genuinely don't need silver right now. When I do, I'll come to you for sure."
Zhang Shen knew the real reason: she had never truly taken their marriage seriously, which was why she insisted on keeping things so clearly separated.
He had thought that life was long, that he could wait patiently for the flowers to bloom, and that someday that "when I need it" would come. But time rushed by—a snap of the fingers—and that moment never arrived.
Zhang Shen had barely managed to hold back his tears just now, but thinking of these things, he found himself wanting again. He tried once more to persuade her:
"The Duke's mansion is not like other places. There are many occasions that require silver, and plenty of people who look down on those without means. Take social obligations, for instance: if you go visiting to other houses, you'd need to get new clothes and jewelry, wouldn't you? And you need silver to tip the servants too, don't you? This is my heartfelt gesture. Don't worry that I'll fall short—now that I'm the Jiangning Weaving Commissioner, the family's circumstances are even better than before. I have more than enough set aside. Has this household ever lacked for silver?"
Zhu Qingyu put away the dowry list and said with a smile:
"I have silver to use. The court pays me a salary, and when I left the northern frontier, the Eldest Grand Princess gave me a great deal of travel money—I can't even use it all. As for the Duke's mansion's social obligations, since they are for the mansion, that responsibility rests with the Duke. If he doesn't provide, then I'll just go in my plain cloth clothes. Surely no one would dare refuse me a seat at the banquet just because of that? Alright, Jingyan, since it's your gesture, I'll accept the sincerity of it. See, I've taken the list. I have to get back to seeing patients. On my next day off, I'll come visit you and Ruohua."
Zhang Shen escorted Qingyu out the door and watched as she mounted the carriage cleanly, heading back to Hui Medical Clinic.
It was only when her carriage had disappeared from sight entirely, no longer visible, that Zhang Shen suddenly laughed at himself with a bitter, self-mocking smile.
She was as free as the wind, moving through heaven and earth, stopping now and then—but never to be tethered.
She stood as firm as a tree, rooted beneath the sun and moon—though the outside world churned with noise and distraction, her heart never wavered.
Dowry or natal family, she never needed such things to serve as her foundation.
Letting him act as her family was not because she needed him as a support, but because it was the last bit of tenderness she had left to give him.
......
With the Duke of Dingguo's household being a house of hereditary nobility, and the wedding to be held in only six months, the Three Letters and Six Rites had to be arranged within a very tight schedule.
The two households' chief organizers—the Duchess of Dingguo and Zhang Shen—were run off their feet over the affair, while the couple in question, Gu Zhao and Zhu Qingyu, each had their own duties and could hardly spare a thought for it.
Zhu Qingyu wanted to take advantage of the time before the opening of the various Benevolent Clinics next year to finish writing and publish her two books.
As for Gu Zhao, ever since he moved into the Office of the Governor of the Two Jiangs, he had never managed to move back to the Benevolent Clinic.
Whether it was out of consideration for his mother living in Jiangning, or because his new official duties kept him too busy, he had suddenly become someone rarely seen, sometimes disappearing for ten days or half a month at a stretch.
It was nearly the Winter Solstice, already past midnight, and Zhu Qingyu had long fallen into a deep sleep, when someone slipped into the bedcovers, bringing a chill with him.
Zhu Qingyu shivered from the cold and raised her hand to swat him, but suddenly caught a faint metallic scent of blood. She snapped awake at once and hurriedly tried to sit up:
"You're hurt? You're bleeding?"
Gu Zhao held her close, his icy cheek rubbing against her ear.
He was just taking a comfortable breath, enjoying her warmth, when he heard her words. He immediately let go of her, jumped off the bed, and said:
"Is there still a smell? I already washed—maybe I didn't scrub thoroughly enough?"
Zhu Qingyu scrambled up as well, lit the lamp, and pulled him close to inspect him anxiously:
"Where are you wounded?"
Gu Zhao was evasive, even trying to slip away:
"No, nothing like that. Wait here—I'll go check myself in the next room."
He was truly about to drive her mad. She was a physician—if he was actually injured, he should tell her right away. What was the point of hiding it from her?
Zhu Qingyu couldn't be bothered with his nonsense. She grabbed the fleeing Lord Gu, shoved him down onto the bed, and reached to undo his clothes to examine him, scolding:
"Shut up. Lie still. I'll see for myself."
Gu Zhao was strangely compliant tonight—one push and he fell back. He lay face-up, his gaze following her every movement.
Zhu Qingyu pulled off his upper garments and inspected every inch of him very carefully.
How strange—there was not a single wound on him. Then where had the smell of blood come from?
Seeing her expression, he only laughed:
"Why stop checking? You haven't finished yet."
Zhu Qingyu suddenly understood:
"Someone else's blood? Why didn't you say so! What have you been up to all this time?"
His trick having worked, Gu Zhao reached out and pulled her back under the covers, grinning even more cheerfully:
"Naturally, it was someone else's blood. Your worry made you blind—how many Left Virtuous Kings are there in this world who could actually wound me? You're done inspecting. Now it's my turn."
Only then did Zhu Qingyu realize she'd been fooled. She protested:
"You tricked me! Mmmph—mmph—!"
Lord Gu was in a hurry. He suppressed her by force, with an iron hand, and once he started his inspection, there was no end to it—from head to toe, outside and in, he examined Lady Zhu for an entire night.
No one knew where Lord Gu had learned such methods, but he never repeated a single move day after day. Zhu Qingyu was completely under his control every time, drifting in a haze of pleasure and oblivion until she lost all sense of when she had fallen asleep.
When she woke again, the sky was just beginning to lighten. Zhu Qingyu was roused by the sound of someone dressing nearby, and when she opened her eyes, she saw that Gu Zhao was already fully outfitted and ready to go. She quickly pulled the quilt up around herself and sat up:
"Where are you off to now?"
Gu Zhao bent down and kissed her on the forehead.
"To suppress the bandits. This year His Majesty sent Lord Zhuang to push through salt policy reforms, and the results have been remarkable. Next year it will be expanded from Jiangsu to the whole of Liangjiang. I want to sweep the bandits out of our territory first so that His Majesty's new policies can go smoothly next year—after all, not everyone is as steadfast as Lord Zhuang. Yesterday I beheaded a bandit chief, and after returning to write up the urgent report to be sent to the capital, I missed you so much that I rode through the night to come see you."
Since he had official business, Zhu Qingyu didn't try to keep him. She walked him to the door.
Just as he was about to leave, Gu Zhao turned back and hugged her, reluctant to let go.
"I'm off now. I'll do my best to finish all these duties before we marry—I don't want to be doing these tasks every day after we're wed. Take care of yourself, and wait for me to come back and marry you."
