Early in the morning, when the sky was just getting light, the bluestone road in front of the Shen residence was still covered with last night's dew.
A carriage from the Marquis of Weiyuan's Mansion had quietly stopped there.
The carriage was painted black, the curtains were indigo blue, and the two horses pulling the carriage had shiny coats and were leisurely snorting. The young servant driving the carriage, Yuanbao, leaned against the shaft, yawning and rubbing his eyes, clearly also having been dragged out of bed.
Meanwhile, in the courtyard of the Shen residence, a morning drama of "loving father and filial son" was currently being staged.
"Unfilial son! Get up right now!"
Shen Zhongcheng's roar penetrated layers of courtyard walls, startling a nest of early-rising sparrows under the eaves. He held that familiar boxwood stick in his hand, currently knocking "thump thump thump" on the door panel of Shen Mingxuan's bedroom, with such force that dust fell from the door frame.
Inside the room, there was dead silence.
"Shen Mingxuan! I know you're in there! Get out here!"
He knocked three more times.
Still no sound.
The veins on Shen Zhongcheng's forehead twitched. He took a deep breath, stepped back two paces, and raised his leg—
"Bang!"
The door was kicked open.
Inside the room, Shen Mingxuan was curled up on the bed wrapped in a quilt, his back to the door, looking as if "I'm asleep and don't know anything." However, the slightly trembling edge of the quilt betrayed the fact that he was currently awake.
Shen Zhongcheng walked in with the stick.
His footsteps were heavy.
He stopped by the bed.
He stared at that lump of quilt for three breaths, then slowly raised the stick in his hand—
Shen Mingxuan was huddled under the covers, his eyes not yet open, when he was lightly struck on the calf by his father's "stick of love"—a wooden stick specifically used for "wake-up service."
"Still sleeping! What time is it! How can you still sleep at this hour?" Shen Zhongcheng stood at the door of the room, holding the wooden stick, his face ashen.
Shen Mingxuan sat up with a jolt, looking blankly at his father, then at the sky outside the window that was just turning white: "Father... it's only the hour of Mao..."
"What's wrong with the hour of Mao?" Shen Zhongcheng snorted coldly. "From here to Qingyun Temple, it takes at least half an hour. The lady will arrive at the hour of Chen. Are you going to make the lady wait for you?"
Shen Mingxuan opened his mouth.
He wanted to say something.
Shen Zhongcheng didn't give him a chance at all: "Hurry up and get up to wash and change! Dress decently! You were already impolite last time. If you dare to mess up again this time—"
The boxwood stick swung through the air with a "whoosh."
Shen Mingxuan resignedly climbed out of bed.
Half an hour later.
In front of the Shen residence, Shen Mingxuan wore a long shirt the color of the sky after rain, made of high-quality Hangzhou silk, with a jade belt around his waist, a matching silk scarf on his head, and a pair of brand-new cloud-toed shoes on his feet.
He was indeed dressed quite presentably.
However, on that face, there were still a few traces of the disheveled look of someone who had just woken up, as well as the lifeless expression of being dragged out of bed by his father.
As he walked out, he was still straightening his slightly crooked collar.
Shen Zhongcheng looked his son up and down with satisfaction, nodded, and then warned in a low voice: "If you dare to be impolite again this time, don't even think about keeping your two dog legs when you come back."
Shen Mingxuan smiled bitterly: "Your son wouldn't dare."
"You'd better not." Shen Zhongcheng waved his hand. "Go. Your sister is already waiting in the carriage."
Seeing him come out, Yuanbao hurriedly jumped down from the shaft and brought over a footstool: "Eldest Young Master Shen, please."
Shen Mingxuan waved his hand, weakly said "Thank you for your hard work," and was about to lift his foot to get into the carriage—when the curtain was lifted from the inside.
Shen Ninghuan poked her head out, with a gentle smile on her face: "Brother, good morning."
Shen Mingxuan paused in his steps.
He looked up into the carriage.
Besides his own sister's smiling face, there was another person sitting in the carriage.
That person was wearing a moon-white straight gown with dark patterns, leaning lazily against the wall of the carriage, and holding a piece of pastry he had pulled out from who knows where.
Seeing Shen Mingxuan looking over, he raised his eyes, and the corners of his lips curved into an arc.
That smile...
How should I put it.
It was gentle, and it was polite.
But in those eyes, there clearly flickered a kind of interested light that didn't mind a good show, that slightly raised corner of the mouth, that half-smile, that whole aura of "Oh, this is interesting" emanating from him—
The sleepiness in Shen Mingxuan's mind vanished instantly.
He stared at that smile on Pei Cijing's face, and his mind went "boom."
What did this mean?
What did this smile mean?
Seeing him dragged out of bed by his father and climbing onto the matchmaking carriage looking disheveled, was it very funny? Or was it very interesting to see him go to a matchmaking session?
Shen Mingxuan originally thought that although this cheap brother-in-law seemed a bit lax, he was quite understanding and sincere to his sister, and was someone he could get along with.
But now...
He had misjudged him!
"Brother-in-law, you're here too?" Shen Mingxuan squeezed out a few words through his teeth, his voice stiff.
Pei Cijing put the half piece of pastry in his hand into his mouth, chewed slowly, swallowed, and then smiled and said: "Brother-in-law, good morning."
His voice was clear and his tone was natural.
But Shen Mingxuan always felt that there was a faint trace of teasing in those three words "brother-in-law."
Pei Cijing actually quite understood this matchmaking business.
Although his own marriage was almost an arranged marriage—he was stuffed with a wife without even seeing her face—in this era, there were also parents who valued their children's wishes.
If the two families intended to form a marriage alliance, they would arrange for the young people to meet.
If they liked each other, they would go home and say "everything is up to my parents"; if they didn't, they would say "we have no destiny."
It was just a meeting, whether it worked out or not was another matter, and it was no big deal.
But this brother-in-law...
Pei Cijing remembered the helpless and amused expression on his wife's face when she talked about this matter yesterday.
"My brother stood the lady up last time and made her wait in the teahouse for a whole day. If Aunt Jiang hadn't been magnanimous and the lady hadn't been reasonable, this matter would have fallen through long ago."
Pei Cijing raised his eyebrows at the time.
Stood her up?
And stood her up on a matchmaking date?
This operation was really something.
Although he had never seen that lady, to be praised as "magnanimous" by his own wife, she must not be an ordinary boudoir lady. But no matter how magnanimous a girl was, coming out for a matchmaking session full of expectations, only to be left waiting in a teahouse for a whole day, how could she not have some grudges in her heart?
Pei Cijing felt that things would not be so simple.
Today's "second matchmaking session," I'm afraid... would be interesting, so when his wife asked him "Do you want to go to Qingyun Temple to offer incense together," he agreed almost without hesitation.
Studying was very important.
But eating melons... no, but accompanying his wife out to relax and praying for his family was equally important.
Shen Mingxuan looked at that lingering, meaningful smile on Pei Cijing's face, and anger rose in his heart.
He snorted coldly, lifted his robe, and stepped into the carriage.
The carriage was not spacious, but it was more than enough for three people to sit. Shen Mingxuan sat down opposite Shen Ninghuan—deliberately avoiding the seat next to Pei Cijing.
After sitting down, he crossed his arms and leaned against the carriage wall.
Closing his eyes to rest.
A posture of "Don't talk to me, I don't want to pay attention to you."
Seeing this, Pei Cijing smiled even deeper. He didn't speak either, just looked at his brother-in-law with a smile.
Shen Ninghuan looked back and forth between her brother and her husband.
She had to admit that her husband looked quite handsome when he smiled, his brows relaxed and a smile on his lips, exuding a leisurely and comfortable aura.
But today, this smile...
Why did it feel a bit off?
The amusement in his eyes, the curve of his lips, the aura he exuded—even a good-tempered person like her wanted to punch him in the face with her delicate hands.
Shen Ninghuan thought about a word she occasionally heard in her husband's inner voice.
It was probably...
Cheeky?
She pursed her lips, suppressing a smile that almost escaped.
It wouldn't do to let the atmosphere remain so stiff. Shen Ninghuan coughed lightly and said gently, "Brother, Cijing is following us today, absolutely not meaning to escort you."
Shen Mingxuan didn't even lift his eyelids, letting out a snort from his nose.
Pei Cijing still smiled without speaking.
Shen Ninghuan continued to explain, "He has been studying hard recently, cooped up in his room all day. Today I brought him out for some fresh air, and incidentally to offer incense and pray for blessings at Qingyun Temple."
She spoke sincerely, her expression earnest.
Of course.
She didn't speak the truth in her heart.
Her husband wanting fresh air and to offer incense and pray were just incidental.
Mainly he wanted to watch the fun.
To eat melons.
Shen Mingxuan finally opened his eyes.
He first glanced at his sister, his eyes clearly saying, "Do you think I believe you?"
Then, he turned his head, looking Pei Cijing up and down, his gaze sweeping from the moon-white straight gown, to the smiling face, and then to the seemingly slightly thin frame under the robe.
Finally, Shen Mingxuan squeezed out two cold laughs from his throat.
"Hehe." He deliberately paused before slowly adding the second half, "With his small frame, he wants to escort me?"
The disdain in his tone almost overflowed.
Pei Cijing still didn't speak.
He just slightly raised his eyebrows, the smile on his face deepening.
That look clearly said, "Do you want to try?"
Shen Mingxuan: "..."
He suddenly realized that this brother-in-law's obedient and docile appearance when he visited before was definitely an act! Looking fair-skinned, but his heart was definitely black!
Who did he learn this infuriating skill from?
He really wanted to step forward and spar with Pei Cijing, to let this boy know that an official of the Dali Temple who investigated cases and caught criminals didn't practice martial arts for nothing.
But—
First, they were in a carriage, and second, his sister was between them.
It was really hard to make a move.
Shen Mingxuan could only hold his breath, close his eyes again, out of sight, out of mind!
Shen Ninghuan looked at her brother's aggrieved yet feigned calm appearance, finally unable to hold back, she raised her hand, covered her lips with her sleeve, and chuckled softly.
The laughter was very light.
Like the spring breeze blowing the copper bells on the eaves.
Pei Cijing heard the sound and turned to look at her.
Their eyes met.
Shen Ninghuan blinked, her eyes full of smiles.
Pei Cijing also smiled.
This time, the smile had less banter and more genuine warmth.
The carriage drove steadily through the long street, out of the city gate, along the official road towards Qingyun Temple, the wheels rolling over the road, making a regular "rumbling" sound.
Outside the window were the early autumn fields, the rice was about to ripen, glowing with a faint golden yellow.
The distant mountains were like ink, the morning mist had not yet dispersed, everything exuded a peaceful vitality.
About half an hour later, the carriage arrived at the foot of the mountain. Yuanbao pulled the reins and turned back to report, "Second Young Mistress, Second Young Master, Eldest Young Master Shen, Qingyun Temple has arrived. There are stone steps ahead, the carriage can't go up."
Shen Ninghuan responded and took the lead to lift the curtain and get off the carriage.
Pei Cijing followed behind her.
Shen Mingxuan came down last, his face still not looking very good.
The three stood at the foot of the mountain, looking up.
A bluestone staircase wound upwards, hidden among the verdant mountain forest. The stone steps were not steep, but very long, with no end in sight. On both sides of the stone steps were lush trees, the morning light spilling through the branches and leaves, casting mottled shadows on the stone steps.
There were already twos and threes of pilgrims walking slowly up the stone steps.
There were white-haired old women leaning on canes, walking slowly and piously step by step, young women holding children's hands, speaking softly, and young people like them, walking alone or in groups, all with a reverent solemnity on their faces.
Pei Cijing looked at the long stone steps and suddenly spoke, "Compared to the Daxiangguo Temple, where you can take a carriage all the way to the door, this Qingyun Temple..."
He paused, his tone taking on a bit of playfulness.
"I suspect they deliberately built the road like this."
Shen Ninghuan turned to look at him, "Why?"
"To guard against people," Pei Cijing said, "To guard against those idle people who are not genuinely coming to offer incense, but just want to join the fun and look at the scenery."
He pointed to the stone steps.
"Walking all the way up, those with poor physical strength or insincere hearts will retreat halfway. Those who can persist to the temple are mostly people who truly seek the gods and Buddhas, or who sincerely practice Daoism."
"In this way, the temple is quiet, but the incense will not be less—because those who come are all pious people."
Shen Ninghuan heard this and looked thoughtful.
Shen Mingxuan snorted coldly, "Fallacy."
Pei Cijing was not annoyed, just smiled, "Whether it's a fallacy, brother-in-law will know after walking."
Shen Mingxuan couldn't be bothered with him and lifted his foot to walk up the stone steps.
Shen Ninghuan and Pei Cijing exchanged a glance and followed.
The stone steps were indeed not steep.
But they were long.
The three walked and stopped, not finding it strenuous.
Only Pei Cijing walked at the very front, his pace relaxed, occasionally looking back at Shen Mingxuan falling behind, the teasing smile on his face never fading.
As if to say, "Brother-in-law can't even climb the stone steps faster than me, and you have the nerve to call me small-framed."
Shen Mingxuan was annoyed by his look, quickening his pace, wanting to overtake him.
But Pei Cijing seemed to have eyes on his back, every time he was about to overtake, he also quickened his pace, always staying two or three steps ahead.
Shen Mingxuan: "......"
He decided not to lower himself to this person's level, but still quickened his pace.
Shen Ninghuan walked in the middle, looking at the childish "chase" between the two men in front, shaking her head. This was probably the competitive desire among men, right?
...
Meanwhile.
Another carriage slowly drove out of the south gate of Shengjing City.
The carriage was plain, with green cloth curtains, and the horse pulling it was an ordinary yellow dun horse. The driver wore a bamboo hat, his face unseen, only his well-defined hands holding the reins steadily and powerfully.
Inside the carriage.
Gu Ruoli sat upright.
Today she wore a plain white pleated skirt, with a moon-white half-arm outer garment, her hair combed into a simple trailing bun, with only a plain silver hairpin.
She was dressed very simply.
But in her hand, she held a knife.
The knife was about seven inches long, the blade narrow, the edge gleaming with a faint blue cold light in the morning light filtering through the carriage curtain. The hilt was wrapped tightly with black silk thread, held securely and coldly in her hand.
Gu Ruoli used a plain white handkerchief to slowly wipe the blade.
Her movements were very slow.
Very careful.
From the tip to the spine, from the edge to the blood groove, not missing a single inch. The handkerchief brushing over the sharp edge made a very faint "hissing" sound, like a venomous snake flicking its tongue.
She wiped it with meticulous care.
Her gaze was entirely focused, as if the object in her hands were not a lethal weapon, but a rare and priceless treasure.
The carriage rolled onto the official road leading to the southern outskirts. Moving at a steady, unhurried pace, it blended seamlessly into the morning bustle of people and carts leaving the city, completely unnoticed.
Gu Ruoli finally finished cleaning her blade.
She held it up, carefully inspecting it against a sliver of sunlight that slipped through the gap in the carriage curtains.
The steel was like a mirror, reflecting half of her face.
Her brows were as graceful as distant mountains, her eyes as clear as autumn pools.
She really couldn't figure it out. She wasn't exactly ugly, so was the prospect of a matchmaking meeting with her truly that humiliating?
After gazing at her reflection for a moment, she slowly slid the blade back into its sheath. With a soft click, the weapon was secured.
Gu Ruoli tucked the sheathed blade into her sleeve, smoothed out her garments, and sat perfectly upright. In the blink of an eye, she was once again the picture of a refined, aristocratic young lady, as if the woman polishing a deadly weapon just a moment ago had never existed at all...
