He looked utterly exhausted.
His jade crown sat askew, stray locks of hair framing his temples, and his jawline was shadowed with unshaven stubble—a far cry from his usual immaculate appearance.
Indeed, after leaving the Jiaotai Palace yesterday, Lu Yuanduo had shut himself in the Six Ministries, burying himself in official duties to avoid dwelling on anything related to Yun Wan. In doing so, he had missed the news of her departure from the palace and return to her residence.
It wasn’t until early this morning, when a servant rushed to inform him, that he hurriedly mounted his horse and raced back, desperate to see her.
Lu Yuanduo knew all too well that if he missed this chance, the next time he saw Yun Wan would be at a palace banquet.
Their statuses were worlds apart.
This was the first time Yun Wan had seen him disheveled and frantic, devoid of the dignified, composed demeanor befitting the Duke of Lu.
Standing at a measured distance, she gazed at him with cool detachment, her expression unreadable, her eyes as indifferent as if he were a stranger.
Lu Yuanduo’s heart wrenched violently, as though a chunk of flesh had been carved from his chest.
The pain was raw and bleeding.
Sensing the tension between them, Fuling tactfully withdrew to a distance to wait.
After a long silence, Lu Yuanduo finally spoke. "Your shoes are dirty."
His voice was hoarse as his gaze fell on the pearl-embroidered slippers peeking from beneath Yun Wan’s skirt, their toes smeared with yellow mud.
That mud had no business being there—it was an eyesore.
Instinctively, he pulled out a handkerchief and offered it to her. "Here, wipe them."
Yun Wan didn’t take it. She glanced down briefly and said, "No need. I’ll just change them when I return."
Lu Yuanduo had no choice but to tuck the handkerchief away. Grasping for another topic, he asked, "Did you visit the stables?"
"Yes."
A faint smile touched his eyes as he recalled something. "Did you see the black colt Sui adores? Once he’s older and learns to ride, I’ll gift it to him."
The horse had been brought to the estate last year when Sui was three—a clever, spirited foal that had instantly captured the boy’s heart.
Since then, Sui had taken an avid interest in its growth, occasionally bringing carrots to feed it himself whenever he had time.
Upon learning of this, Lu Yuanduo had ordered the stable hands to care for the foal meticulously, intending to present it to Sui later.
Yun Wan replied, "I saw it. It’s thriving."
She answered only the first part of his question, leaving the latter unacknowledged.
Lu Yuanduo’s smile faded.
As the sunlight broke through the clouds, it fell upon Yun Wan, making the gemstones in her hairpins glitter dazzlingly, almost unbearably radiant.
His gaze lingered on the pomegranate-and-jade butterfly hairpin in her hair. "That pin is exquisite. It suits you."
And not just the pin—her gown, her slippers, her jewelry... all were resplendent, yet none overshadowed her beauty. It was as though everything had been crafted solely to adorn her.
This vision of Yun Wan, lush and breathtaking, was one Lu Yuanduo had only seen once before: on the day she married his younger brother, Lu Fenglan.
A flicker of emotion passed through Yun Wan’s eyes. "Thank you. He chose it."
They both knew who "he" was.
Lu Yuanduo’s breath hitched. Suddenly, the hairpin felt like a blade to his eyes.
"Did he force you?"
At last, he voiced the question that had haunted him.
Yun Wan parted her lips, her tone resolute. "No."
Lu Yuanduo stared intently at her. "But I refuse to believe you entered the palace willingly."
Yun Wan’s lips curled. She met his gaze squarely. "You’re right. I wasn’t willing. I never wanted to enter the palace."
Her eyes were clear as a mirror, reflecting the truth unflinchingly.
"That night, you asked when I’d return, said you’d have my courtyard cleaned and ready. I believed you. I looked forward to coming home, to life returning to how it was."
For a fleeting moment, vulnerability flickered across her face.
But just as quickly, it vanished, replaced by a cold smile. "And yet?"
Her gaze turned icy as she regarded him. "Your dear sister, Consort Shu, served me a cup of wine that delivered me straight to the Emperor’s bed."
"She’s the one who forced me!"
Tears glistened in her eyes, sharp as a sword plunging straight into Lu Yuanduo’s heart.
He was speechless, stunned and floundering.
"I’m sorry, I didn’t know—"
Yun Wan cut him off. "Duke, do you truly expect me to believe that?"
"She’s your sister. You have eyes in the palace. How could you not know what she did?"
Her words were razor-sharp, leaving no room for his feeble excuses.
Yun Wan blinked back her tears, though the tremor in her voice betrayed her. "But then again, this is just how your family is."
"Your mother, for the sake of her own peace, wanted to bind me to your household for life."
"And your sister, to secure the Third Prince’s position, wanted to trap me in the palace forever."
Her tone dripped with scorn, mockery, and disillusionment.
She had lumped him in with them.
Lu Yuanduo had no defense.
Some things, he had indeed known.
Faced with this Yun Wan—wreathed in frost, every word a blade—he could only offer a hollow, "Yun Wan... I’m sorry."
She scoffed. "What good are apologies? The outcome is exactly what you all wanted. Why bother pretending now?"
"I just never thought you’d be the same as them."
With that, she turned and walked away, leaving Lu Yuanduo reaching out instinctively. His fingers brushed only the edge of her silk shawl before it, too, slipped from his grasp.
In that dazed moment, he understood: whatever fragile thread had remained between them was now severed.
She was no longer the Third Lady of the Lu household, his brother’s wife, his sister-in-law. She was Consort Yun of the palace, the Emperor’s favored concubine.
The chasm between them was insurmountable.
Sometimes, in quiet introspection, Lu Yuanduo wondered: had their fate been sealed the moment he chose to marry his mentor’s daughter?
Perhaps the mistake had been there from the very beginning.
......
The palace.
A figure as swift as a ghost materialized, swathed in concealment, only the lower half of his disarmingly honest face visible.
Had Yun Wan been present, she might have found him oddly familiar.
Emperor Jingxuan uttered a single word. "Speak."
Xuan Yi bowed. "This humble servant has fulfilled his mission. Your lost ring has been recovered from the Lu estate."
"Where was it?"
"The... the horse pen."
The Emperor paused, finally lifting his gaze. "Where?"
Xuan Yi’s voice grew smaller. "As you anticipated, Her Majesty was eager to dispose of the ring. Today, she seized the opportunity to... discard it in the horse pen."
He hung his head, hiding his guileless expression.
Heaven knew the lengths he’d gone to—playing stablehand by day, thief by night, scouring every corner of the estate without success.
He’d suspected the ring might be hidden in the bedchamber of Cuiwei Pavilion, but without his master’s orders, he wouldn’t dare ransack the Consort’s quarters even with ten lives to spare!
Fortunately, fate intervened. Spotting Her Majesty at the stables, he’d kept watch—and thus completed his mission.
"The... horse pen."
Emperor Jingxuan ground his molars, his face darker than a cast-iron pot.
Splendid. Absolutely splendid.
She treasured Lu Fenglan’s belongings like gold, yet his own ring was tossed into the filth.
