The rain had poured all night. By morning it finally eased, but it still fell in a steady drizzle, thin and unending.
The courtyard gate suddenly opened. A tall figure strode in, long fingers gripping the handle of an oil-paper umbrella.
Under the umbrella, his hair was bound beneath a golden crown. He wore a dark, wide-sleeved robe, and his pitch-black eyes were calm, touched with a quiet, distant cold.
The maids and older servants sheltering under the eaves heard the movement and hurried to bow. “The Duke has returned. Madam has been waiting for you all this time.”
He crossed the courtyard and stepped beneath the eaves, casually handing the umbrella back. The attendant behind him quickly took it.
“What is it?” he asked. His voice was low and flat, yet somehow chilling.
The maid lowered her head and replied softly, “This servant… doesn’t know.”
He asked no more and pushed the door open.
A familiar warm fragrance rushed toward him, driving away the damp chill from outside.
A brazier burned inside the room, filling the air with the scent of pear incense. A pale hand lifted the ginger-yellow gauze curtain, revealing a delicate face that looked slightly too pale. Her cheeks were thin, her chin sharp, her figure slender, yet her beauty was impossible to hide.
She stepped forward and forced a small smile. “You’re back.”
He glanced at her colorless face. “You’re ill?”
“It’s just a mild cold,” she said softly.
His expression darkened. “If you’re sick, why aren’t you resting properly? The windows are wide open—are you afraid the wind won’t get in?”
“You’ve been away for half a month,” she said quietly. “I missed you. I kept hoping you’d return sooner.”
She watched his expression carefully, almost nervously.
When he saw the slight tremble in her eyes, the cold pressure around him eased a little. He turned as if to leave. “Rest well.”
Suddenly, his sleeve was grabbed.
He turned back and saw her reddened eyes. “Can you stay with me for a while?”
Lu Shiji looked at her hands clutching his sleeve. They were slim and delicate, her fingertips pale, as if she were afraid that the moment she let go, he would leave.
Shen Lichu’s voice grew even softer. “There’s something I want to tell you.”
He sat down by the bed, his tone still distant. “What is it?”
Her lashes trembled. Mist gathered in her reddened eyes. “I know I wronged you. Back then, if I hadn’t forced myself into marrying you, I wouldn’t have torn you apart from Miss Song. I wouldn’t have caused her to marry the wrong man and end up like that.”
Lu Shiji’s face remained calm and cold, without a ripple of emotion. He didn’t respond.
Shen Lichu studied his expression carefully but couldn’t read anything from it.
Lu Shiji had always been like this—unshaken by anything, distant and reserved. They had been married for three years, yet she had never truly understood him.
After a long silence, he finally spoke, his voice indifferent. “What’s past is past. There’s no need to bring it up again.”
Shen Lichu tugged at the corner of her lips. “Yes. It’s all in the past.”
She leaned closer to him, her eyes now thick with tears.
“I know you won’t forgive me. Even if I say I’m sorry, even if I spend my entire life trying to atone, you still won’t forgive me. Just like you’ll never forgive the Shen family…”
Her voice broke, sounding both wronged and hopeless.
Lu Shiji lowered his gaze and noticed how pale her face had become. His brows knit slightly. “Your complexion—”
Suddenly, a sharp pain tore through his chest.
His expression froze as he looked down and saw a dagger buried deep in the left side of his chest.
The silver blade gleamed like a cold winter moon, now stained a glaring red. The hilt was carved with scale patterns, set with a blue gemstone.
It was the dagger he had given her.
Now, she was gripping the handle tightly, driving it straight into his heart.
Blood spread quickly, soaking into his dark robe.
Shen Lichu’s eyes were blazing red, filled with hatred. “Even if the Shen family knelt and begged like dogs, even if I humbled myself completely, you still wouldn’t let us go.”
Lu Shiji’s pupils shrank. His usually cold, dark eyes locked onto her. “Shen Lichu—are you trying to kill me?”
“So what if I am?!”
Shen Lichu forced a laugh, blood trickling down the corner of her mouth.
“You destroyed the entire Shen family, killed my aunt, imprisoned and humiliated me—I accepted all of that. I only asked you to spare my parents and siblings, but you wiped out everyone anyway!”
“Lu Shiji, how can you be so cold? How can you be so cruel?”
“My family is gone, I won’t live alone. I’ve already taken poison, but I cannot ignore the revenge owed for my family!”
Every word cut like a knife, sharp and unbearable.
Shen Lichu coughed up more blood, her face even paler, her reddened eyes filled with hatred.
“If there’s another life, I’d rather die than marry you!”
“Miss! Miss! The heir is almost back to the mansion. If you dawdle, we’ll be late!” The little maid rushed in.
The girl at the dressing table pouted, carefully dabbing her lips with peach-colored powder. She used her delicate fingers to place the color precisely, then tilted her head to check in the mirror.
In the reflection, her almond-shaped eyes sparkled, cheeks still soft with a hint of baby fat, her skin fair and smooth. She smiled, satisfied—truly beautiful.
Shen Lichu hummed softly. “If we’re late, we’re late. What’s the fuss?”
The maid Chunxing leaned closer. “Miss, have you forgotten why we came to the Duke’s mansion? Madam wants you to meet Ning Shizi. He’s famous, and with him back in the capital, many young ladies will try to catch his attention. We can’t fall behind.”
Ning Shizi, Lu Shiji, was seventeen, top of the imperial exams, had served five years, solved major cases, and just now quelled the Dingzhou rebellion. The emperor trusted him, making him highly sought-after.
Shen Lichu rested her chin on her hand. “Everyone says Ning Shizi is great, but I’ve never seen him. What if he’s ugly? I don’t want to marry someone I don’t like.”
The Shen family came from Yuhang, far from Yanjing. Shen Lichu had only just arrived in the capital a few days ago, staying temporarily at the Duke’s mansion.
The official reason was to visit her aunt, but the real goal was to meet Ning Shizi and consider marriage.
Her aunt, Madam Shen, was now the Duke’s main wife, and Lu Shiji was the eldest son from the first wife.
“Miss, you’ll see him today. If he really looks awful, we’ll go home immediately. Madam wouldn’t want you to be upset,” Chunxing said.
“That’s true.”
Shen Lichu smiled and lifted her skirts, stepping lightly out of the courtyard.
When she reached the front hall, it was already crowded with Lu family members.
Madam Shen sat at the main seat, the Duke and Madam beside her, and the hall below filled with Lu’s children and grandchildren.
“Ah Li, why are you just arriving?” Madam Shen chided gently, pulling Shen Lichu to sit beside her.
“Aunt, I was late getting ready,” Shen Lichu said, linking her arm with Madam Shen’s, acting playful.
Madam Shen gently smoothed her hair. “You little thing.”
Just then, a maid called out in surprise, “The heir has returned!”
“Quick, let him in!” The old matriarch beamed.
The door curtain lifted, and a tall figure stepped in, backlit. His narrow sleeves were moon-white, hair bound under a silver crown, and the sun highlighted his noble, handsome face. His dark eyes were calm and unreadable, as if untouched by warmth.
He bowed slightly. “Grandmother, Father, Mother.”
The old matriarch nodded repeatedly. “You went to Dingzhou to quell the rebellion for half a year. Thank heaven you’ve returned safely.”
The Duke stroked his beard. “You performed great deeds. The emperor praised you highly in court. Have you reported back to the palace?”
“I have already,” he replied evenly, calm and smooth like a gentle stream, though slightly distant.
A soft female voice called, “Brother Shiji…”
Madam Shen immediately pulled Shen Lichu forward. “Ah Li, go greet your cousin properly.”
Shen Lichu stared at Lu Shiji, his face like a sculpted immortal, her eyes wide and unable to blink.
Snapping back to herself, she smiled, her brows curving gracefully. “Greetings, cousin.”