The courtyard fell silent—so quiet one could hear a pin drop.
All eyes landed on Wen Jiao.
Wen Jiao was pondering how to break the deadlock when her peripheral vision caught Song Langyu approaching from the distant corridor. Her heart tightened slightly, and her fingertips curled almost imperceptibly.
Madam Wu trusted Wen Jiao's character deeply. She asked her in front of everyone: "Jiao Jiao, do you recognize this man? Don't be afraid. Speak freely to your aunt, and I'll see justice done for you."
Liu Yuqing's words were undoubtedly an attempt to smear Wen Jiao by claiming she had illicit relations with him. Under such public scrutiny, a girl with thinner skin would have died of shame and fury.
Wen Jiao was about to answer when Song Langyu reached them. He bowed to Madam Wu. "Mother."
Seeing her son arrive, Madam Wu's confidence grew. She said sternly, "You've come at the right time. Does the Court of Judicial Review handle cases of men slandering a woman's reputation? This man picked up some ragged handkerchief from who knows where and claims it's Jiao Jiao's, trying to ruin her name!"
Song Langyu was barely twenty, yet he stood there with an innate air of righteousness—handsome features cold and clear, expression aloof. After hearing Madam Wu's words, he swept a faint glance at Wen Jiao, then looked at Liu Yuqing. His thin lips parted slightly. "Mother, calm yourself. Why not hear what Cousin Wen has to say?"
Madam Wu had hoped Song Langyu would back Wen Jiao up, but not only did he not help her, he seemed intent on conducting an interrogation. She was furious and shot Song Langyu a hard glare before turning to grasp Wen Jiao's hand, saying gently, "Don't be afraid. Just tell the truth. Your aunt will see justice done for you!"
"Aunt…" The girl's clear apricot eyes were full of bewilderment as she raised the pale pink silk handkerchief in her hand. "My handkerchief is right here. The one in his hand isn't mine…"
In the capital's wealthy circles, there were plenty of women seeking to marry into high families—and even more men. There had been cases of minor officials bribing maidservants of noble ladies to steal their intimate belongings, then coming to their doors to pester and force a marriage.
With the handkerchief in Wen Jiao's hand, and seeing her composed, innocent demeanor—a girl who seemed utterly untouched by matters of the heart—who would suspect her of having an affair with the despicable man lying on the ground? Everyone concluded that Liu Yuqing was trying to climb up the ranks by attaching himself to the Duke of Zhenguo's household.
Liu Yuqing hadn't expected Wen Jiao to lie without batting an eye. Trembling, he unfolded the handkerchief in his hand and said through gritted teeth: "Just now you stopped me in the back courtyard, said you admired my learning, wanted to be a pair of wild mandarin ducks with me, and gave me your handkerchief as a token of affection! This is your handkerchief! Why won't you admit it!"
The damp handkerchief unfolded to reveal a peach blossom embroidered on it, the stitching rough and crude—clearly a common market good, worlds apart from the fine, elegant silk handkerchief in Wen Jiao's hand.
Madam Wu gave a light snort and said coldly, "Jiao Jiao has been in the capital for three months and rarely leaves the house. When would she have ever seen you? You say she admired your learning—do you have any poetry or prose worth showing? You filthy, black-hearted piece of garbage—get out of here yourself!"
Madam Wu had grown up in the Prince of Anping's household, pampered and adored. In her youth she had ridden horses and shot arrows alongside her brothers. Her temperament was straightforward, and she could not abide deceit. If they weren't at the Liu residence, Madam Wu would have done more than just curse at him—she would have kicked this shameless wretch a few times.
Liu Yuqing had only spied on Wen Jiao from behind the ornamental screen door, but saying that out loud would only further prove his ill intentions. Unable to say when or where the two of them had met, anxiety burned within him while cold seeped through his body—heat and chill rising together—and he fainted dead away from sheer agitation.
Wen Jiao ducked behind Madam Wu, peeking out with just her head, looking adorable and utterly unconcerned. In her sweet, coquettish voice she said, "Aunt, he couldn't spin his lie, so he fainted from his own panic!"
Everyone was now thoroughly convinced of Wen Jiao's innocence, and increasingly certain that this surnamed Liu had been spouting nonsense.
Madam Wu's anger hadn't yet subsided. She turned to see Song Langyu standing idly beneath the corridor and gave a cold snort. "This matter of ruining a reputation and attempting to harm someone—does your Court of Judicial Review handle it or not?"
Song Langyu walked slowly to Madam Wu and said with a deferential attitude, "Naturally we will handle it. I'll take this man back for a thorough interrogation."
When Wen Jiao had first come to the Duke's residence to claim kinship, Song Langyu had said her identity was unclear and she might be a swindler. Madam Wu had told him he'd been investigating cases for too long and now saw everyone as a criminal—Wen Jiao's background was pitiable, and she wouldn't allow him to bully her.
Just now, Song Langyu had stood beneath the corridor watching the scene unfold, clearly still suspicious of Wen Jiao and ready to kick her while she was down. Madam Wu said crossly, "You investigate thoroughly and clear Jiao Jiao's name."
Song Langyu ordered his men to carry Liu Yuqing away. As he turned back, he swept a faint glance at Wen Jiao, his eyes dark and unfathomable at the depths.
Wen Jiao curtsied to him and said sweetly, "Thank you for your trouble, Cousin."
Song Langyu gazed at her deeply for a long moment before responding with a lukewarm grunt.
On the carriage ride back to the residence, Wen Jiao hugged Madam Wu's arm and dozed off.
"I made inquiries. That man is called Liu Yuqing—a minor clerk at the Court of Judicial Review. Who knows where he got your name, but he came to slander you!"
After a pause, she added: "And your eldest cousin has no heart either. He was standing right there and didn't even stop it. When I get back, I'm going to scold him."
Wen Jiao hummed softly with her eyes closed and mumbled, "Cousin was probably confused at the time too. Don't blame him wrongly, Aunt."
Madam Wu snorted, "Him, confused? He's never confused. He simply has no heart, doesn't know to protect his own family!"
She then instructed Wen Jiao, "In the future, whenever you go out, you must bring a maidservant with you."
Wen Jiao opened her eyes, her face full of lingering fear, and said crisply, "Auntie, rest assured. From now on, wherever I go, I'll bring a maidservant. I'm terrified of that Liu fellow. If he truly tries to pin this on me, Jiao Jiao will immediately hang herself with a rope."
Although Madam Wu came from a distinguished family, she pitied the poor and weak, possessing a soft and compassionate heart. She adored Wen Jiao's innocent and carefree nature, and sympathized with her for having lost both parents, so she took special care of her.
She stroked Wen Jiao's tender, smooth cheek. "Good child, Auntie will surely find you a perfect husband's family, so you can remain this carefree forever."
Wen Jiao's apricot eyes dimmed slightly.
Carefree? She feared she would never have such fortune in this lifetime.
And Liu Yuqing's matter was far from over.
Sure enough, in the evening, a maidservant from Changpu Courtyard came to summon Wen Jiao.
"What does Eldest Cousin want with me?"
The maidservant said she didn't know.
Changpu Courtyard was not far from Wen Jiao's residence, Liuli Pavilion—just through a small garden—and this was Wen Jiao's first time there.
Changpu Courtyard was square and empty, with no flowers planted along the walls or under the eaves. At this time, the grass was withered and the trees bare, cold and desolate without a trace of life.
Wen Jiao was led to the study door. The maidservant knocked, and upon hearing the person inside bid them enter, she pushed open the door and invited Wen Jiao in.
Wen Jiao stepped into the study and immediately caught a faint scent of bergamot. She looked up and saw a zitan long table against the wall in the center of the hall, with a large Guan-ware bean-green plate in the middle holding over a dozen delicate yellow bergamot fruits—the fragrance came from there. Hanging on the wall behind was a painting titled Cold Forest Evening Journey.
Song Langyu was not there, so Wen Jiao walked toward the jade screen, her voice light and cheerful: "Eldest Cousin, I'm coming in."
This was a very spacious chamber with bookshelves lining two walls, books neatly arranged on the shelves. In the center stood a rosewood desk with drawers, unadorned—so cold and austere it didn't resemble the study of the heir to a ducal mansion, but rather a government office.
Song Langyu stood by the window, a layer of frost covering his brow and eyes. He turned to look at Wen Jiao, his voice cold and clear:
"Regarding today's incident, does Cousin Wen have anything she wishes to say?"
Wen Jiao's smile froze instantly, panic flashing in her eyes.
Two months ago, Song Langyu had returned from the government office and gone to pay his respects to Madam Wu. Upon entering, he saw Wen Jiao standing prettily in the hall. Madam Wu said, "She is your distant cousin Wen Jiao. She will be staying at the residence for a while."
The young girl had curtsied gracefully and called him "Eldest Brother," her voice so sweet and soft it could drip honey.
Song Langyu had keenly sensed something suspicious about Wen Jiao and immediately sent people to her hometown of Jiangdu to investigate. To his surprise, her identity turned out to be genuine, yet the doubt in his heart had never dissipated.
"On the table is Liu Yuqing's confession. I interrogated him personally. Cousin Wen may take a look before answering me."
On the zitan table lay a sheet of paper pressed with a fingerprint. The young girl's fair fingers twisted her handkerchief, reaching out several times only to pull back.
Song Langyu took in her subtle expressions without urging her.
Finally, Wen Jiao picked up the confession. After reading only two lines, she hastily denied it: "It wasn't as he said! The handkerchief wasn't given to him by me—he suddenly rushed over and snatched it—"
She covered her mouth in panic, but it was already too late.
Song Langyu raised his hand and closed the window. The creak of the window shutting startled Wen Jiao, and her body couldn't help trembling.
"So the handkerchief was indeed yours." Song Langyu was calm and certain.
The young girl first sobbed softly, then burst into loud, uncontrollable crying.
"He suddenly appeared, said he wanted to… to be with me, and snatched my handkerchief. I was terrified, tried to run, but he cornered me in the rockery…"
Wen Jiao sobbed breathlessly, her eyes full of fright, tears and snot streaming down her face, completely unconcerned about how disheveled she looked in Song Langyu's eyes.
Song Langyu said nothing, only stared at Wen Jiao, discerning the truth of every word she spoke.
"When he charged at me, his foot stepped on a rock and he fell into the water himself. I didn't care about anything else—I just fled in a panic…" Wen Jiao finished between sniffles, then wiped her face with her sleeve, looking pitiful and aggrieved.
Her voice came in fits and starts: "With so many ladies present, I… I didn't dare tell Auntie about this either."
Wen Jiao knew Song Langyu was not easy to fool and would never let her slip by easily, so she had already planned how to respond.
She couldn't tell the whole truth, nor could she tell all lies—half truth, half falsehood would be more believable.
"Since your handkerchief was lost, where did the one you produced afterward come from?"
The young girl had thick dark hair and skin fairer than snow, like a crabapple blossom battered by a violent storm. She bit her lip and said softly, "I carried two handkerchiefs on me. I lost one, so naturally I still had one left."
"Why carry two handkerchiefs?" Song Langyu sat down in the official's armchair, looking every bit like he was interrogating a criminal.
"Because… because the handkerchief Auntie gave me, I couldn't bear to use it. I always use old ones on ordinary days."
This answer was something Song Langyu hadn't expected.
"Jiao Jiao couldn't make a place for herself in Jiangdu, so she had no choice but to come and seek refuge. She's already caused Auntie no small amount of trouble, and her heart is full of gratitude and shame. She doesn't want Auntie to spend more money on her… If that handkerchief is used often, it will soon grow old, and then more money will have to be spent to buy a new one." Wen Jiao sniffled.
"Liu Yuqing was rescued from the lake in the back courtyard. That lake is very far from the warm pavilion—how did you happen to be there?" Song Langyu continued his interrogation.
Wen Jiao wrinkled her nose and said with a hint of reproach, "Cousin, you know well enough that I've never had a sense of direction. Even at home, I often can't tell north from south, east from west!"
"Home" referred to the Duke's mansion, and indeed, Wen Jiao had frequently gotten lost when she first arrived.
"Those ladies were weeping and wailing in the warm pavilion, but I couldn't cry no matter how I tried. That only made me seem cold-hearted, so I had no choice but to slip outside and hide. I was doing just fine in the garden when I went and dirtied my shoe. I wanted to find a place with water to clean it, but the farther I walked, the more remote it became. I tried to find someone to ask for directions, but there wasn't a single soul in sight. And then I ran into Liu Yuqing."
As she spoke, she lifted her silk skirt and stretched her foot forward a little. "See? It was this shoe that got dirty."
It was early spring, and clothing was not as heavy as in winter. Wen Jiao moved casually, even hitching up her trouser leg to reveal a stretch of ankle as white as jade. Song Langyu turned his head away and frowned in rebuke: "A young lady should be dignified and demure. You must not behave with such frivolity."
Wen Jiao let out an "oh" and obediently lowered her skirt. The dirt on her shoe was freshly acquired and wouldn't have withstood Song Langyu's close scrutiny—fortunately, he was so rigid and pedantic that she managed to slip past his notice.
"Come to think of it, it's strange. I'd never met that man surnamed Liu before, yet he knew my name and family background. I wonder who told him." Wen Jiao wore a puzzled expression.
"Liu Yuqing bribed a young servant in the household." Song Langyu's voice carried not a trace of emotion. "That servant leaked information from the household to an outsider, which is a grave offense. He is currently being punished in the outer courtyard. Once the punishment is complete, he will be expelled from the estate."
"That servant has some nerve!" Wen Jiao snorted, then praised Song Langyu, "Cousin, you got to the bottom of it so quickly—how impressive!"
Song Langyu remained unmoved, his gaze fixed steadily on her eyes.
Wen Jiao's skin crawled. She didn't want to remain alone with him any longer, so she smiled and asked, "Is there anything else, Cousin? If not, I'll be on my way."
Song Langyu had sword-like brows and starry eyes, with an air of noble refinement—worthy of the saying "a gentleman without equal." But Wen Jiao felt he was more terrifying than the King of Hell himself. She only hoped he would be merciful and let her go…
The man's thin lips parted slightly: "When you faced off in the courtyard today, Cousin Wen, you were quite composed."