Sang Ning pursed her lips slightly. Next month?
How could they be in such a hurry?
Logically speaking, given his current status, he could have his pick of noble ladies across the capital—after all, the He Family had just rendered outstanding service and was now at the height of their influence.
For the He Family to rush like this seemed particularly suspicious.
Lord Xie immediately nodded. "Next month is perfect! The eighth day of next month is an auspicious date! Since this is a marriage decreed by His Majesty, sooner is better than later!"
The Xie Family had already planned to marry off their daughter next month anyway, and everything was prepared. Proceeding as scheduled would also be a slap in the face to the Duke of Ning’s household.
Lord Xie was more than happy to agree.
The First Lady’s brow furrowed slightly with concern, but in the end, she remained silent.
This was, after all, an imperial decree. Whether sooner or later, the marriage was inevitable. Moreover, deliberately delaying would only make the Xie Family appear defiant of the Emperor’s will.
At this critical juncture, the Xie Family couldn’t afford any further complications.
He Siyu curved his lips. "Lord Xie speaks wisely."
Fusheng directed servants to carry in the betrothal gifts, the foremost being a pair of wild geese.
The marriage contract was then written, and tokens were exchanged.
He Siyu rose from his chair, steadying himself on the armrest, and handed her his personal jade pendant. "Miss Xie."
Sang Ning kept her eyes lowered as she accepted the pendant. With a glance at Xia Zhu, the maid presented a tray, from which Sang Ning picked up an embroidered pouch and offered it to him.
He Siyu examined the delicate pouch in his hand, its surface stitched with mountains half-hidden behind auspicious clouds—every thread meticulously placed.
He arched a brow. "Did Miss Xie make this herself?"
Sang Ning still didn’t raise her gaze, her voice calm and composed. "Yes."
His fingers tightened around the pouch, his smile tinged with a hint of sarcasm. "I didn’t know you had such skills."
Her tone remained demure. "Needlework is a proper skill for a lady of refinement. I only hope Young Master He isn’t disappointed."
He Siyu’s brow twitched, irritation flaring at her detached demeanor.
Did she think he couldn’t tell? Beneath this facade of propriety, she didn’t spare him a single thought.
She couldn’t even be bothered to look at him properly.
A dull ache throbbed in his chest—whether from his old injury or sheer frustration, he couldn’t tell.
He forced a smile. "How could I be disappointed? We’ll soon be married. Between family, there’s no need for such formality."
No matter. The engagement was settled, and they would wed next month. They had all the time in the world.
Her lashes fluttered faintly before she pressed her lips together. "Indeed."
The First Lady interjected at the right moment. "The manor has prepared a banquet. Young Master He, won’t you stay for the meal?"
He Siyu glanced at Sang Ning, who stood before him with downcast eyes, and took a deep breath, suppressing the metallic tang in his throat. "No need. I must return to report to my parents."
Fusheng, sharp-eyed, noticed his master’s paling complexion and quickly added, "Yes, yes! The Marquis is waiting for Young Master’s return to discuss matters!"
Lord Xie chuckled. "In that case, we won’t keep you. Sang Ning, see Young Master He out."
Sang Ning dipped into a slight curtsey. "As you wish."
Only then did she lift her gaze slightly, her composed eyes meeting his. "Young Master He, this way."
He Siyu strode ahead, and she followed a step behind—proper yet distant.
Suddenly, he swayed, his tall frame threatening to collapse forward.
She froze momentarily, rooted in place.
Fusheng rushed to steady him. "Young Master, are you all right?!"
He Siyu braced himself against Fusheng, barely regaining his balance. When he looked up, he met her concerned gaze. "Young Master He, are you unwell?"
His temple throbbed.
This heartless little—!
Sang Ning blinked when he glared at her, her scalp prickling with bewilderment. The man was utterly incomprehensible.
Steadying himself, He Siyu released Fusheng, his voice laced with feigned weakness. "It’s nothing. I was beaten yesterday, and the injuries haven’t healed."
Sang Ning paused, only now noticing his unusually pale complexion.
She hesitated before asking, "Why… were you beaten?"
"I went to the palace without permission to request His Majesty’s decree for our marriage. My father was displeased and summoned the family discipline." His tone was casual.
Sang Ning was taken aback. So it was true—he had personally sought the imperial decree?
How audacious.
For the first time, genuine emotion flickered in her eyes as she stared at him in confusion. "Why?"
Given his status, marrying into the Xie Family was hardly advantageous. Why endure so much hardship? What was his goal?
She truly didn’t understand.
He arched a brow. "Can’t you tell?"
"Tell what?" She stared blankly.
His dark eyes locked onto hers. "I’m in love with you."
She stiffened, unprepared for such bluntness. For a moment, she was at a loss for words.
He took a step forward. Though still visibly weakened, his towering presence loomed over her, an unspoken pressure enveloping them.
Instinctively, she retreated, wariness flashing in her eyes.
Yet he only leaned closer, his obsidian eyes glinting with mischief. "Xie Sang Ning, we’re getting married."
Her breath hitched.
But he had already straightened, smirking. "I’ll take my leave now."
With that, he strode away.
She remained frozen, watching his retreating figure long after he had vanished from sight.
"Miss," Xia Zhu ventured once He Siyu was gone, "is Young Master He… a good man?"
Xia Zhu had never been adept at reading people, so she relied entirely on her mistress’s judgment.
Sang Ning snapped out of her daze, her gaze sharpening. "No, he’s not."
"Ah?" Xia Zhu’s face fell.
A hint of steel flashed in Sang Ning’s otherwise serene eyes. "But he’s not entirely bad, either."
Xia Zhu was baffled. What did that mean?
As Sang Ning turned to return to her quarters, a maid hurried over. "Miss, the Heir of the Duke of Ning has arrived. He insists on seeing you."
Sang Ning paused briefly before shaking her head. "I won’t see him."
"But the Heir seems desperate. He says he must speak with you—"
Her voice was calm. "The engagement has been dissolved. A private meeting would be improper. If he has business, my parents will receive him. There’s no need for me to intervene."
"Understood." The maid bowed. "This servant will relay your response."
With that, she withdrew.
As Sang Ning walked back to her courtyard, Xia Zhu couldn’t help but murmur, "The Heir must be heartbroken. I heard he knelt for an entire day at home, but the Duke of Ning was adamant about breaking the betrothal."
Sang Ning’s tone was indifferent. "Regardless of the reason, what’s done is done. There’s nothing more to say."
Xia Zhu studied her mistress. "Does Miss feel no regret at all?"
Sang Ning’s tranquil eyes clouded momentarily—regret?
What was there to regret?
Her expression remained placid. "I’ve had to let go of too many things in this life. I’m accustomed to loss. This is insignificant."
Xia Zhu’s heart ached. "Miss…"
"Enough. The past is the past."
Xia Zhu mumbled, "Miss is so detached, as if nothing matters. Even when the engagement with the Pei Family was called off, Miss showed no reaction. Meanwhile, that little minx Xiangcao was crying her eyes out this morning."
Sang Ning’s steps faltered slightly, but she said nothing.
Returning to her chamber, she surveyed the neatly packed trunks.
Her dowry had long been prepared and stored in the warehouse, and her luggage was nearly packed.
This courtyard had been her home for eighteen years, and now, on the day of her wedding, everything would be moved out—indeed, it required much preparation.
Sang Ning’s gaze swept over the trunks and cases. "The wedding date remains unchanged, which is just as well. There’s no need to unpack these things again. As for the dowry, have it all rechecked. Every item should be prepared exactly as before and sent to the He Family next month."
"Yes," came the reply.
Suddenly, Sang Ning remembered something else and added, "Xiangcao is also to remain among the dowry attendants as originally planned."
