Chapter 102: The Lion's Roar
Zhao Ling never dreamed that Fu Tingyun would appear at Nianbo Garrison, standing right before him. His eyes widened in disbelief at what he saw, and it wasn't until Fu Tingyun walked toward him, her bright eyes as cold and distant as the morning stars, that he finally accepted the reality—this was truly Fu Tingyun.
"You—how did you get here?" he exclaimed, both shocked and overjoyed, oblivious to the water dripping from the cloth in his hand and soaking his robe. "Who brought you? Zheng San? A Sen? Where’s Zheng Sanniang? Why didn’t she come with you?" He peered behind her.
But Fu Tingyun didn’t even glance at him. Instead, she pushed past his shoulder and surveyed the inner chamber.
The yamen appeared old and worn, yet the furnishings inside were unexpectedly lavish.
Dark green Hangzhou silk drapes, black lacquered furniture inlaid with snow-white marble, a cool bamboo mat in emerald green, and floors paved with gray bricks—everything exuded a refreshing chill.
The room was occupied only by Zhao Ling. The bedding was neatly folded, and a pale blue Songjiang sanluo robe hung alone on the black lacquered clothes rack. The bronze flower-and-bird mirror stand stood bare, lending the space a somewhat austere feel. When she opened the wardrobe, aside from a few official uniforms, there were only the summer robes she had made for him.
Fu Tingyun felt slightly better.
Zhao Ling, however, was utterly bewildered. "What’s wrong?"
What’s wrong?
I should be the one asking you that!
The flames of anger reignited in Fu Tingyun’s chest. She turned to face Zhao Ling, only to catch sight of the two women who had been setting the table in the main hall earlier, now crowded at the doorway of the inner chamber, gaping at her in shock.
Clearly, they had witnessed the entire scene.
Fu Tingyun’s brows furrowed almost imperceptibly.
Her earlier actions had been rather rash. According to Zhao Ming, these two women attending to Zhao Ling were relatives of some battalion commander, likely influential figures in Nianbo Garrison. For her first visit here to leave such an impression on them—if word got out, given their standing, it wouldn’t bode well for her reputation.
The last thing she wanted now was to give others a reason to mock her.
Fu Tingyun smiled. "I was worried Ninth Master might be living frugally here, but it seems the room holds hidden treasures!" Though she understood the reasoning, her words still carried an unmistakable edge of sarcasm.
The two women exchanged glances.
The woman before them had skin like snow and an air of noble grace, her elegance undiminished even in anger—clearly a daughter of a wealthy family. She had stormed in and ransacked the inner chamber, yet Battalion Commander Zhao stood there dumbfounded, watching her with a mix of joy and resignation, not a trace of anger in his expression... These women were no fools. On the contrary, they were sharp—otherwise, they wouldn’t have been chosen to serve Zhao Ling. Sensing the veiled meaning in Fu Tingyun’s words and recalling their earlier impropriety, they felt a twinge of fear.
"Battalion Commander!" they called out in unison, their voices tinged with a hint of pleading.
Had she barged in and torn through the room in a rage—just because the furnishings were too extravagant?Zhao Ling felt that the Fu Tingyun he knew was not like this. There must be a reason for her behavior. But whatever the reason, he didn’t want those two women present. After all, if Fu Tingyun lost her temper like this in front of them, they would only see her as hot-tempered—and a hot temper was far from the virtues of gentleness and grace... He didn’t want Fu Tingyun to appear lacking in virtue before the wives of his subordinates.
"Leave us," he said coldly, waving his hand. "And set another place at the table!"
The two women hastily bowed in acknowledgment and withdrew.
Another place at the table? Who was the extra setting for? Were the three of them really going to eat together?
Fu Tingyun trembled with anger before finally speaking, her voice dripping with unmistakable sarcasm: "So Ninth Master has another guest, does he?"
Zhao Ling was a perceptive man, adept at untangling complicated matters. In his view, Fu Tingyun’s fury and sharp words stemmed from anger—once he found the root of it, the issue would resolve itself.
Cutting straight to the point, he asked, "What has you so furious?"
What has me furious?
What do you think?
Why won’t you tell me who your guest is?
Fu Tingyun glared at him, her eyes blazing as if lit by fire. "Who is Ninth Master’s guest?"
Her aggressive tone made Zhao Ling frown slightly. He didn’t understand why she was fixated on this, but he answered patiently, "Do you remember me mentioning Tang Daishan? He helped me when I was just starting out."
How could Fu Tingyun forget?
Tang Daishan had once tried to persuade Zhao Ling to go to the capital with him to secure a license for the salt trade. She had done everything in her power to stop him...
"Two days before he was set to leave for the capital, he was murdered, and the hundred thousand taels in bank notes he’d prepared for the trip vanished," Zhao Ling’s brows knitted together. "The Feng family seized the opportunity to take over his private salt business. Tang Daishan only had one daughter—Miss Tang couldn’t hold on, so she came to me, hoping I’d mediate. The Tang family would withdraw from the salt trade entirely, and in exchange, the Feng family would leave them alone..."
Alarm bells rang in Fu Tingyun’s mind.
Miss Tang?
The same Miss Tang who had lent Zhao Ling the Dragon Spring Sword!
So the woman everyone was talking about was Miss Tang.
Very few people knew Zhao Ling had enlisted in the military register—how did she know?
Or had she been keeping tabs on him all along?
Xi’an Prefecture was thousands of miles away. Zhao Ling had already retired—why would she still seek him out as a mediator?
"Did Ninth Master agree?" She stared straight into Zhao Ling’s eyes.
Zhao Ling had never seen such sharpness from Fu Tingyun before and was momentarily taken aback.
His hesitation only fueled her displeasure. "The feud between the Tang and Feng families started over the salt trade. Since Tang Daishan only had Miss Tang as his heir, and she’s now willing to abandon the business, their conflict should naturally dissolve. Why would they need a mediator?"
Surely someone as intelligent as Zhao Ling could see that. Why hesitate?
Unless... it was because the one asking was Miss Tang?"There are things you don't know," Zhao Ling said. "The feud between these two families has lasted for years—it's not just a simple grudge. There are even some murder cases involved. Giving up isn't as easy as it seems..."
"So, has Ninth Master already agreed to help Miss Tang mediate between the Tang and Feng families?" Fu Tingyun asked with a grave expression.
"No..." Zhao Ling thought of Fu Tingyun's scheming in the past, of Yang Yucheng and Jin Yuanbao's joy, and didn't want to get involved again.
"Then why is Ninth Master still hesitating?" Fu Tingyun immediately pressed. "Rather than dragging it out and giving her false hope, it would be better to refuse outright. Maybe she could find a more suitable mediator than you. What you're doing isn't helping her—it's holding her back."
Zhao Ling knew this too.
"But Master Tang, on his deathbed, asked Miss Tang to seek me out, hoping I could help her break free from the Feng family," he said with a bitter smile. "The Tang family has been in the illegal salt trade for generations, amassing immense wealth. Miss Tang has no siblings to rely on..."
Fu Tingyun was furious.
Who in this world doesn't have their own troubles? That Miss Tang isn't on the brink of death, and you, Zhao Ling, aren't some merciful Bodhisattva here to save the suffering. Since when did you become so compassionate? Back then, you even wanted to strangle me!
A gentle female voice sounded outside the door: "Ninth Master, I heard you have a guest? May I come in?"
Without even guessing, Fu Tingyun knew this must be that Miss Tang.
A guest, huh? So now she was the guest? And Miss Tang—was she the host?
Fu Tingyun stared at Zhao Ling.
Zhao Ling whispered to her, "It's Miss Tang," then hurriedly took out a Taoist robe Fu Tingyun had made for him from the wardrobe and put it on.
Seeing this, Fu Tingyun felt slightly better.
But then, in the blink of an eye, Zhao Ling stood there straight as a pine, wearing a refined and gentle smile, exuding the calm and composure of someone tempered by time.
It was like eating too much sugar—Fu Tingyun suddenly felt a sour taste rise in her heart.
Then she saw a beautiful woman enter gracefully.
Her hair was styled in a "fallen horse" bun, and she wore a white gauze dress. Her bright eyes and snow-white skin, paired with delicate, arched brows, gave her an ethereal beauty that made one forget the mundane world.
When she saw Fu Tingyun, a flicker of admiration flashed in her eyes, but it was soon replaced by a radiant smile. "This sister is truly lovely!" she said, turning to Zhao Ling. "Who might this be?"
Zhao Ling smiled. "This is Miss Fu!"
Miss Tang curtsied to her and warmly greeted, "Miss Fu!"
Miss Fu!
He had introduced her to Miss Tang as Miss Fu!
Fu Tingyun's fingertips turned cold.
So, to him, she was just "Miss Fu."
Just like Miss Tang.
One called "Miss Fu," the other "Miss Tang."
How hateful that she had still been hoping... that she would be special in his heart!She thought of the tender gaze he had given her under the bright moonlight of the Mid-Autumn Festival; she thought of the warmth when she had wrapped herself in his fur coat; she thought of the solemn expression on his face as he handed her the deeds to the land and property, as if making a vow; she thought of the sweet emotions that surged within her whenever she recalled him; she thought of the sheer terror she had felt upon hearing he might have been defeated in battle; she thought of those three arrows that had struck Feng Dahu... Even so, she had to ask him clearly—why had he treated her this way? Could it be that all of this had truly been nothing more than her own wishful thinking? Had it all just been her own presumptuousness?
Even if she had lost utterly, she could not afford to lose her composure in front of this Miss Tang. To lose her dignity now would mean truly admitting defeat.
She ought to gently ask Miss Tang when she had arrived, whether she was accustomed to living at Nianbo Garrison, if there was anything she needed help with... Her mind knew what to do, yet all the strength in her body seemed to have drained away, leaving her powerless to maintain even this facade of restraint.
She only felt exhausted.
Never had she felt so weary.
What had she become?
How utterly ridiculous!
Following him from Xi'an Prefecture to Zhangye, then from Zhangye to Nianbo Garrison... Had it all been nothing but self-inflicted humiliation?
A deep weariness rose in Fu Tingyun's heart, along with a self-destructive despair.
She had offered even her pride to Zhao Ling—what else did she have left? What remained?
"Zhao Ling!" Tears welled in her eyes. "From this day forward, we sever all ties! You take your broad road, and I'll cross my single-plank bridge."
She dashed out of the hall.
※
I tweaked the ending a bit—it reads much smoother now!
O(∩_∩)O~
(End of Chapter)
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