Chapter 75: Understanding (Bonus Chapter for 680 Pink Votes)
Jin Yuanbao carefully suggested, "Since that Centurion Feng has mistaken us for scions of noble families, why don't we let them continue with this misunderstanding?"
Yang Yucheng caught his drift and chuckled, "You mean we should pretend to be Ninth Master's attendants?" As soon as he said it, he laughed, "Why not? We've always followed Ninth Master for our livelihood anyway. It's just that he's kind enough to treat us as brothers." Then he added, "You're hesitating—is there something difficult you need me to do?"
Sharing hardships is easy; sharing prosperity is hard.
Though they couldn't claim great wealth now, their status had indeed changed somewhat.
Seeing Yang Yucheng as straightforward as ever, Jin Yuanbao relaxed and smiled, "Then you'll have to endure serving drinks by our side."
Yang Yucheng scoffed playfully, "I'm not some brothel girl." The moment the words left his mouth, he remembered Fu Tingyun was present and awkwardly coughed a few times.
Everyone burst into laughter.
As the saying goes, connections make officialdom easier. If they wanted to stand out within three to five years, they had to take a risky approach.
Zhao Ling smiled, "Then you'll have to control your temper. We need to put on a good show for them."
"Don't worry," Yang Yucheng assured, "I'll be even more deferential than A Sen is to Ninth Master."
Hearing himself dragged into this, A Sen muttered discontentedly, "What about me? I've never caused trouble for Master!"
Yang Yucheng shot A Sen a fierce glare, and the boy immediately fell silent.
It seemed Yang Yucheng had caused mishaps before!
Fu Tingyun suppressed a smile.
Being with these people always brought amusing words and entertaining incidents.
Zhao Ling glanced at her, his expression as warm as a spring breeze.
Fu Tingyun's cheeks tinged pink, wishing this joyful atmosphere could last longer.
She offered her advice, "Once Ninth Master arrives in Zhangye, he’ll inevitably need to host banquets for Marquis Yingchuan and other officials. What are their preferences? Should they be invited together or separately? If together, would their schedules align? I think Ninth Master should first meet with General Mo to discuss these matters before reporting to the General Military Headquarters. That way, things will go more smoothly. It would be even better if he could meet Marquis Yingchuan before the official report." She tactfully explained, "Meeting the officials beforehand and sharing drinks will make the formal reporting process more familiar. Those in the know will be impressed that a mere Centurion like Ninth Master can host the General and Deputy General of the Headquarters. Others might assume someone has put in a good word for him, hence the special treatment... With so many people coming and going at the Headquarters, everyone will have their own interpretations. Even Feng Tong in faraway Liangzhou might hear about it!"
Zhao Ling smiled faintly, his gaze filled with indulgent affection that seemed to say, "You clever thing."
Jin Yuanbao glanced at Zhao Ling and nodded approvingly, playing along.
Yang Yucheng outright gave a thumbs-up. "Miss Fu, you’re truly exceptional among women to think of all this!"Fu Tingyun couldn't help but laugh, recalling Jin Yuanbao's earlier expression. She thought to herself with slight annoyance: Was what she said really that absurd? Why did he have to look as if he was only humoring her out of respect for Zhao Ling... What was she to him anyway? Why would Jin Yuanbao think Zhao Ling would be pleased just because he gave her face?
Yet an unstoppable wave of joy surged from deep within her heart, making her clear eyes sparkle brilliantly like the morning clouds.
Seeing her cheerful expression, as lovely as blooming flowers, Zhao Ling's mood instantly cleared like a summer sky. He gazed at Fu Tingyun without blinking.
Jin Yuanbao observed this and subtly pulled Yang Yucheng to leave. "We've been running around all day and are covered in dust. Let's go freshen up first so we can have dinner together later."
But Yang Yucheng remained seated. "It's only the hour of You (5-7 pm), still early for dinner. Shouldn't we discuss what gift to give Mo Yi instead?"
Jin Yuanbao was both exasperated and amused.
Fortunately, Zhao Ling acted decisively. He stood up with a smile. "Alright then, let's go visit Mo Yi now and finalize the time to report at the General Military Headquarters."
Yang Yucheng and Jin Yuanbao naturally had no objections. Carrying gift boxes, they left with Zhao Ling.
Once back in her guest room, Fu Tingyun's smile immediately faded.
She lay restlessly on the bed, scenes of being with Zhao Ling swirling endlessly in her mind like a lantern show—so vivid yet distant. Dazed, she only realized it was already time to light the lamps when Zheng Sanniang brought dinner.
"Has Ninth Master returned yet?" she asked listlessly, chewing her food without tasting it.
Zheng Sanniang seemed surprised she spoke during the meal but answered respectfully, "Not yet." She added, "From what my husband said, Ninth Master went to see General Mo and probably won't return until very late."
Later would be better.
A late return would mean their discussion was going well.
Fu Tingyun nodded, hastily washed up, and retired behind the bed curtains.
In the middle of the night, she suddenly awoke.
The surroundings were utterly silent, without a sound.
Yet she sensed movement outside her door.
She strained her ears but heard nothing, yet the strange feeling persisted.
Fu Tingyun regretted not asking Zheng Sanniang to stay with her.
After some thought, she quietly got up, retrieved the dagger Zhao Ling had given her for protection from under her pillow, and listened intently at the guest room door.
There was a light sound outside, like wind rustling.
But the northwest was cold—the corridors were sealed, and thick leather curtains hung at the doors. How could there be wind?
Holding her breath, she called out softly, "Who's there?"
The sound outside abruptly stopped.
Fu Tingyun froze... She needed to find a way to alert Zhao Ling... Just as she was about to shout, a deep voice came from outside: "It's me!"
Relief washed over her, and she nearly collapsed to the floor.
"Why is it you?" She went to open the door, but her hands were too weak to manage. It took her a while to slide the bolt open.
Moonlight streamed through the window, casting a soft glow in the room.
Seeing Fu Tingyun shivering in just a thin jacket and clutching something, Zhao Ling quickly said, "You must be freezing! Go put on your fur coat!"Fu Tingyun's lips twitched slightly: "I was scared by you, you know?" Then she muttered under her breath, "In the dead of night, even if something urgent happened, couldn't you have knocked? Standing silently at the door like that—thank goodness I'm brave. Anyone else would've been frightened half to death." Only then did she realize her back was drenched in cold sweat. The chilly air from outside seeped in, making her shiver slightly. Remembering he had just met with Mo Yi, she assumed it must be something important and stepped aside to let him in.
Zhao Ling had originally planned to have a proper talk with Fu Tingyun after returning that evening. However, Mo Yi had invited Tao Mu and a man named Lin Chi, insisting they drink until they dropped. Zhao Ling had no choice but to oblige. The drinking lasted until curfew, after which Mo Yi arranged to meet Marquis Yingchuan with him at mao hour the next day, adding, "If the Marquis is free, you should host a gathering so we can share a few drinks with him. We can report to the General Military Headquarters in the afternoon."
Naturally, Zhao Ling agreed.
By the time he returned to the inn, it was already well past the second watch.
After washing up and lying down, his thoughts lingered on Fu Tingyun, leaving him restless.
Eventually, he got up and went to knock on her door. Hearing the distant sound of the night watchman's clapper marking the third watch, he hesitated, reluctant to wake her when she must be sleeping soundly. Yet if he didn't clarify things tonight, tomorrow would likely be just as busy. The longer she kept things bottled up, the more trivial matters could escalate. He stood hesitating at her door for so long that he didn’t even hear her footsteps as she got up.
He gave an awkward smile. "I didn’t realize you were such a light sleeper..." As he spoke, he stepped inside, only to notice the dagger in Fu Tingyun's hand, which made him even more embarrassed.
Fu Tingyun, however, wrinkled her nose. "Have you been drinking a lot?"
"No," he replied, recalling how she had stopped him during the Mid-Autumn family banquet and sensing her displeasure now. Instinctively, he denied it—but then, realizing the alcohol on his breath was unmistakable, he corrected himself sheepishly, "Just a little. But it’s fine. After all, I was meeting Mo Yi on official business."
Fu Tingyun was only concerned about his health and knew he had good judgment, so she didn’t press further. She brewed a pot of strong tea, draped a fur-lined coat over her shoulders, and sat quietly on the heated kang across from Zhao Ling, waiting for him to speak.
Though neither spoke, a peaceful and serene atmosphere enveloped them, one Zhao Ling found deeply comforting. He slowly sipped most of his tea before finally breaking the silence.
"Why were you crying this afternoon?" he asked gently, gazing at her with tenderness, his tone intimate and direct.
He—he had come to her door in the middle of the night just for this?
Fu Tingyun stared at Zhao Ling in surprise.
Zhao Ling had always been straightforward. Though her gaze made him uncomfortable, he wasn’t one to lie.
He nodded. "I’ve been worried. Did something happen?"
Could it really be as A Sen had said—that he took everything about her to heart?
Suddenly, Fu Tingyun felt as if she had returned to her childhood, sneaking sips of her grandmother’s treasured pear-blossom wine with her sisters, drifting into a tipsy slumber beneath the camellia tree, its crimson petals blazing vividly around her as she floated weightlessly on clouds.
It seemed Zhao Ling truly cared for her...
She lowered her head shyly.
If they could be together... well, that wouldn’t be so bad, would it?
An image flashed through her mind—of herself leaning against his shoulder.
He had been so warm...Her heart felt like fifteen buckets drawing water—seven up and eight down.
Her cheeks burned with heat.
A betrothal makes a wife, elopement makes a concubine.
She wondered what kind of family Zhao Ling had.
If Mother saw Zhao Ling, she would surely be astonished!
A sweet feeling bubbled in her chest, her eyes and brows smiling, but soon her expression turned solemn.
Never mind that Zhao Ling had now cleansed his background, while she remained someone who couldn’t see the light of day. In the future, not only would she be of no help to his official career, but if discovered, she might even implicate him. And then there was Father… She recalled the proud expression on his face whenever he mentioned the Yu Family of Nanjing to others, and the stern tone of his letters when Mother wrote that Aunt intended to marry Second Cousin to Zuo Junjie… A feeling crept into her heart—even if she were struck from the Fu family register, Father would most likely look down on Zhao Ling. A real man need never worry about lacking a wife—why would Zhao Ling willingly endure Father’s disdain? Rather than forcing things until they parted on bad terms, becoming strangers or even enemies, it would be better to…
Fu Tingyun’s face paled slightly, as though she had plummeted from the clouds into the mire in an instant.
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Sisters, brothers, do you still have any pink votes...? (>_
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