Chapter 110: Sweetness (Bonus Chapter for 1280 Pink Votes)
The banks of the Su Mu River outside Ledu City were bustling and noisy, filled with people releasing river lanterns. Under the bright starry sky, the glittering lanterns and the reflection of the full moon in the water transformed the river into a breathtaking spectacle, like the Milky Way descending upon the mortal realm.
Zhao Ling, who had changed out of his official uniform into a plain sapphire-blue Hangzhou silk long gown, bore no resemblance to the solemn figure who had led the Nianbo Garrison in worshiping the gods that morning. With a smile playing at his lips, he gazed at Fu Tingyun beside him, dressed in a lotus-pink gauze blouse and sapphire-blue gauze skirt, his expression brimming with joy. "What wish did you just whisper to the river lantern?" he asked.
"If it was whispered, how could I just say it out loud?" Fu Tingyun replied with a coy smile, her clever and carefree demeanor accentuated by the two strands of golden osmanthus flowers adorning her coiled hair. As she moved, a subtle fragrance wafted around her, drawing admiring glances from passersby.
Watching her, Zhao Ling felt a quiet pride swell in his chest.
This intelligent, beautiful, and vivacious woman was actually his betrothed.
They would have children together, continue their family line, and grow old side by side.
"I know," he teased, unable to resist. "You must have prayed to the Bodhisattva to bless you with a perfect husband..."
"Stop talking nonsense!" Fu Tingyun cut him off with a playful scold. "I prayed for your safety and success, for everything to go smoothly, and for you to return to Jiangnan soon to restore your parents' graves..." Her voice trailed off, a shadow of melancholy crossing her features.
Zhao Ling's heart swelled with contentment. All the hardships he had endured seemed worth it now, replaced by a tender sweetness. He couldn't bear to see her sad for even a moment.
"Really?" he coaxed, trying to lighten the mood. "You didn't pray for us to smoothly travel to the capital next spring...?"
Fu Tingyun's face instantly flushed crimson.
She had indeed made that wish to the Bodhisattva.
Not only that, but she had also prayed for their marriage to proceed without a hitch.
Meeting Zhao Ling's faintly mocking gaze, she felt both embarrassed and flustered. "I'm not talking to you anymore!" she declared, turning to disappear into the crowd.
Zhao Ling was momentarily stunned before realization dawned. A surge of joy filled him—their hearts were truly aligned. Without another thought, he hurried after her.
The riverbank was lined with stalls selling snacks, lanterns, calligraphy, paintings, fans, hairpins, bracelets, porcelain, and tinware. Fu Tingyun gradually slowed her steps, stopping at a lantern stall. She randomly pointed to a rabbit lantern and asked, "How much for this one?" while stealing a glance behind her. The crowd ebbed and flowed, but Zhao Ling was nowhere in sight.
Had he not followed her?
A sudden ache filled her chest, and an overwhelming sense of grievance welled up.
That scoundrel! He could dish it out but couldn't take it—he could tease her all he wanted, but the moment she retaliated, he got angry... Just then, Zhao Ling's voice suddenly rang out beside her: "Shopkeeper, we'll take this lantern."
Her heart leaped with the joy of something lost and found again. She whirled around toward the sound, only to meet a pair of eyes brighter than the stars in the night sky.
Fu Tingyun stared at him, transfixed, her heart melting... She watched blankly as he took out his purse to pay, as he accepted the lantern from the vendor, as he pressed it into her hands, as he gently took hold of her hand."Let's go!" Zhao Ling, his eyes brimming with laughter, pulled her out of the bustling crowd.
Only then did Fu Tingyun snap out of her daze.
Embarrassed, she shook off his hand: "I... I want to release river lanterns."
"Alright!" Zhao Ling released her hand with a smile, his expression full of indulgence and affection.
That rabbit lantern had originally been hanging on a tree... Fu Tingyun's face flushed red with shyness.
Nearby, a vendor called out: "Rubbed noodles! Delicious and refreshing rubbed noodles!"
Seizing this as an excuse to save face, Fu Tingyun immediately walked over: "I... I'm hungry!"
Zhao Ling followed behind her as gently as ever.
"Good!" He sat down beside her and cheerfully ordered two bowls of rubbed noodles from the vendor.
Fu Tingyun turned her face away.
Everywhere was filled with noisy crowds and twinkling river lanterns.
She couldn't help but glance at Zhao Ling.
Zhao Ling was looking right at her.
The slight curve of his lips was like a faint moonbeam, inexplicably calming her heart.
"Let's... let's never fight again, okay?" Fu Tingyun said earnestly, gazing at Zhao Ling.
But Zhao Ling slowly shook his head: "How could that be possible?"
Fu Tingyun's heart immediately sank to the depths.
Zhao Ling leisurely replied: "But don't worry, I'll always yield to you."
Instantly, Fu Tingyun's heart blossomed like a flower.
She was secretly surprised by her own reaction... then burst out laughing.
"You scoundrel!" she muttered under her breath, secretly pinching Zhao Ling under the table.
Zhao Ling grimaced exaggeratedly while pretending he couldn't make a sound.
This made Fu Tingyun cover her mouth to stifle her giggles.
Zhao Ling was utterly delighted, thinking he'd gladly endure more pinches if it kept her happy.
The elderly vendor also smiled.
A nearby villager who set up shop during farming off-seasons to supplement his income, he'd chosen this quiet spot away from the bustling areas, so Fu Tingyun and Zhao Ling were his only customers. Not recognizing Zhao Ling but noticing his extraordinary bearing, the vendor assumed he was a wealthy young man from town. When serving two large bowls of rubbed noodles, he gave Zhao Ling a thumbs up: "Young man, impressive. It took my wife and me twenty years to learn never to argue with women. You've grasped this wisdom so young—remarkable!"
Zhao Ling played along shamelessly, cupping his hands toward the old man: "You flatter me, you flatter me."
Teased like this, Fu Tingyun wished she could disappear, her face burning as she shot him a reproachful glance before lowering her head to eat, not daring to look up again.
The air was filled with joyous atmosphere.
Fu Tingyun thought back to previous Ghost Festival celebrations when she could only release a few handmade lotus lanterns in the shallow stream of the back garden with her sisters—nothing like today's outing. Suddenly, her heart swelled with infinite hope for the future.
Someone urgently called out: "My lord! My lord!"
Zhao Ling looked up to see the hurried figure of Zhao Ming.
Frowning slightly, he asked: "What's happened?"
Zhao Ming, covered in travel dust and still holding a horsewhip, plopped onto a stool and barked at the old man: "Get me a bowl!"
The vendor, who recognized Zhao Ming, immediately guessed Zhao Ling's identity. His expression changed as he trembled with repeated affirmatives, the previous cheerful atmosphere vanishing completely.
Zhao Ling's frown deepened.Ledu was three to four days' journey from Yongjing, yet Zhao Ling returned in less than six days. Zhao Ming thought Zhao Ling suspected him of not escorting Miss Tang to her destination and hurriedly explained, "I parted ways with Miss Tang in Yongjing four days ago. After hearing some news, I rushed back immediately."
What could have made Zhao Ling travel through the night?
Fu Tingyun looked up curiously.
The lamplight illuminated her flawless jade-like features, radiantly beautiful, causing Zhao Ming—who had been about to speak—to falter and fall silent for a long moment.
Noticing this, Zhao Ling felt displeased and gave a light cough.
Zhao Ming immediately lowered his head and murmured, "I heard from a merchant caravan from the capital that Prince Qin has passed away. Xi'an Prefecture is already draped in mourning white, and imperial edicts will soon reach our Regional Military Commission."
The Emperor had lived a long life, outliving several of his elder sons—even the Crown Prince had died four years prior. Now, only the Ninth Prince, Prince Zhuang, and the Eleventh Prince, Prince Qin remained. With Prince Qin's death, the Emperor must be grief-stricken.
Zhao Ling quickly asked, "When did Prince Qin pass away? How many days has the Emperor decreed for the suspension of marriages and weddings?" His voice carried a hint of tension.
Assuming he was concerned about court affairs, Zhao Ming replied, "He died on the twenty-second day of the fifth month. The Emperor has ordered a sixty-day suspension of marriages and weddings."
Zhao Ling's expression relaxed slightly.
Fu Tingyun, however, lowered her head.
This fellow must have been worried the Emperor would decree a year-long suspension like when the Crown Prince passed away.
Zhao Ming sighed, "Ever since the Crown Prince's death, Prince Qin and Prince Zhuang have been vying for so many years... In the end, Prince Qin couldn't defy fate and succumbed to illness. Surely the Emperor will now decree Prince Zhuang as Crown Prince?" He then lowered his voice and asked Zhao Ling, "Lord Zhao, I've heard our Marquis Yingchuan is brothers-in-law with Prince Zhuang. Do you think the Marquis might be appointed as Commander of the Central Army or leader of the Imperial Guards?"
"How would we know about such court matters?" Zhao Ling smiled, though his expression seemed distant. "However, when the Empress Dowager passed, weddings were only suspended for twenty-seven days. This shows the Emperor truly mourns Prince Qin."
Zhao Ming was unconvinced. "What use is mourning? Prince Zhuang is the one still alive."
Zhao Ling remained silent.
The old man selling rubbed noodles tremblingly placed a large bowl—even more generously portioned than Zhao Ling's—carefully before Zhao Ming.
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The imperial edict reached Nianbo Garrison two days later. Perhaps because the heavens were high and the Emperor far, the common folk merely discussed it briefly before life returned to normal. Only the garrison offices hung white cloth as a sign of mourning.
Fu Tingyun packed her belongings to return to Zhangye.
The wives of the centurions and other officers came to see her off, presenting her with courtesy gifts totaling no less than a thousand taels of silver.
Fu Tingyun muttered under her breath, "No wonder they say even an honest magistrate amasses a fortune in three years. I'm never coming back to Nianbo Garrison again."
"Then I'll return to Zhangye," Zhao Ling whispered, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.In recent days, although Zhao Ling still stayed in the Duty Room, only Fu Tingyun resided in the back hall of the yamen. The two women were quite perceptive—after moving the cooling couch into the courtyard, they stayed indoors without coming out. Every evening, Fu Tingyun and Zhao Ling would enjoy the cool breeze in the courtyard, chatting about everything from childhood fears instilled by wet nurses—like how swallowing watermelon seeds would make watermelons grow in their bellies—to debating whether Li Cheng’s paintings were superior to Xu Daoning’s. The more they talked, the more they found in common—discovering they both disliked shiitake mushrooms, had practiced calligraphy in the style of Lady Wei as children, their families had once treasured fan paintings by Ma Lin, and their longevity locks for their hundredth-day celebrations were both gold-inlaid jade... Now, with their parting imminent, they couldn’t help but feel deeply reluctant.
Zhao Ling escorted her ten li beyond the town before finally reining in his horse at Fu Tingyun’s repeated urging. He remained there until her carriage disappeared from sight before turning his horse back toward Nianbo Garrison.
After seven or eight days of travel, Fu Tingyun returned to Zhangye.
She distributed local specialties brought from Nianbo Garrison to Marquis Yingchuan, Wang Furen, Qi Taitai, and others. By late July, she had already begun preparing Mid-Autumn Festival gifts. Only after the tenth day of the eighth month did she finally settle down, making mooncakes at home, grinding flour, and preparing for the festival.
Wang Furen came to visit her.
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I need to pick up the pace... clenches fist ... Today's update is a bit late... covers head and slips away ...
(End of Chapter)
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