Lin Yi’an’s heart trembled with anger at the contents of the letter. His nephew had stooped so low that he was willing to gamble with his own reputation, truly proving the saying that a man without poison is no man at all.
He could not allow Su Mei to leave the capital at this moment, or it would be exactly what Lin Henglǐ wanted.
In his agitation, he suddenly stood up, forgetting that his leg injury could not yet support him, and almost collapsed as he tried to kneel. Fortunately, Shitou reacted quickly and steadied him, eyes wide as he looked at the shards of porcelain near his feet. He said nervously, “Third Master, what are you trying to do? Just tell me!”
Injuries to muscles and bones could take a hundred days to heal, and his was even worse. Lin Yi’an gasped in pain, feeling helpless for the first time because of the limitations of his legs.
He closed his eyes briefly, still gripping Shitou’s arm tightly. “Chase in the direction of Baoding Prefecture. Do not let Third Miss leave the capital. If Young Master Wu asks why, show him the letter and have him escort Third Miss back to the Su household.”
He folded the letter and handed it over. Shitou, having never seen him angry before, realized the seriousness of the matter. “Third Master, rest assured, I am going at once.” He nodded solemnly and ran off.
The floor was a mess. Lin Yi’an stared at the fragments near his feet and tried to move his legs without external help. After a quarter of an hour, the distance between his toes and the shards remained unchanged. In that small space, it felt like a mountain or sea, impossible to cross.
Exhausted, he leaned against the bed and glanced toward the open window. In the courtyard, the sun had pierced through the heavy clouds. In the corridors, the beauty of the morning light draped over everything like a thin veil. The chessboard that Su Mei had knocked over yesterday was now out to dry.
In a daze, Lin Yi’an seemed to hear her sweet voice calling him husband.
“Prepare a sedan chair!” he shouted suddenly to the servants.
She had been put in danger, and he had lost the will to fight. If he failed to protect her, how could he ever repay her genuine feelings? A man who had maintained calm for years now allowed himself a rare outburst. Even the corners of his eyes carried an intensity rarely seen.
Meanwhile, Su Mei moved along leisurely. Wu Zisen, noticing her unhappiness, guessed she had lost her golden bean tokens and tried to cheer her up.
It was the early morning market, quieter than when the sun was high, but the people walking the streets were lively, and their energy was infectious. The street food vendors were busy. Some sold bean juice, some buns, others spring rolls, fried dough, or flatbreads. Wu Zisen knew Su Mei had rarely seen such bustle, so he rode alongside her, buying food at each stop and sending it into her carriage.
He then handed her a sesame flatbread with a cheerful smile. She poked out her fingers to take it before retracting them. Wu Zisen’s smile deepened.
Inside the carriage, Zikui looked worried. Their young mistress did not cry or fuss, but her way of eating was alarming. She feared Su Mei’s round cheeks might burst, and when Su Mei tried to shove the flatbread into her mouth again, Zikui hurriedly grabbed her arm.
“Miss, have some water first. Eating like this might choke you.” Zikui advised gently.
Su Mei swatted her hand aside and bit fiercely into the flatbread. It was thin but hard, making her tug at it until she tore off a piece. Zikui realized she was venting her anger at Lin Third Master through food. She could only let her be, trusting that she would stop once she had eaten enough.
The carriage slowed deliberately, passing through the lively stalls. People’s conversations about current events reached them, and someone suddenly exclaimed, “The Third Miss of the Zhongyi Marquisate has gone mad!”
Wu Zisen’s heart jumped. He turned to see the source of the talk and found a scene of shock.
“Is this the Su Third Miss recently engaged to the Wei Duke’s Household?”
“Yes, the young lady refuses to acknowledge her fiancé and calls the Third Master of the Wei Duke’s Household her husband!”
The gossip spread rapidly. “The Third Master of the household… is that the heir?”
“What nonsense is this?”
“One girl, two men? Uncle and nephew enjoying themselves?”
The crowd’s chatter became obscene. Wu Zisen’s face darkened in anger. He lashed his horse and charged toward the gossipers, trampling their startled cries. Su Mei, still holding the sesame flatbread, froze in shock. She heard everything clearly.
It was not the first time she had heard such rumors. The letter hidden in yesterday’s story book claimed she was engaged to Lin Henglǐ. Absurd. How could she ever be engaged to that jerk? These people were clearly lying.
The previously energetic young lady suddenly dropped her food, alarmed and furious, ready to rush out. Zikui quickly pulled her into her arms. Su Mei went limp in her embrace.
“Young Master Wu, something has happened to Miss!” Zikui shouted, panic-stricken, tearing back the curtain.
Wu Zisen, holding the troublemaker of the gossip, heard her cries and rushed back to the carriage, leaving his captive behind. Shitou arrived amid the chaos, giving the letter to Wu Zisen. The street was filled with onlookers pointing and whispering.
Wu Zisen read the letter and realized it was no coincidence. They had all been set up. He seethed in anger, pushing aside the escort to drive himself back to the Zhongyi Marquisate.
Bad news traveled fast. By the time Wu Zisen returned, news of Su Mei’s supposed madness had spread halfway across the capital. Gossiping women in the back houses ensured everyone knew within hours.
“What is he scheming for? To show off his magnanimity?” Wu Zisen fumed.
At the Marquisate, Lin Yi’an was waiting, calm despite the urgency, sitting in the hall in his dark blue robe, elegant as pine and bamboo.
Compared to Wu Zisen’s panic, he straightened his sleeves and spoke slowly, “If you were the Marquis, your daughter had lost her reputation, yet the family she was engaged to promises to continue the marriage and restore her honor, what would you choose?”
Wu Zisen ground his teeth in realization. “Lin Henglǐ is despicable!”
No wonder he was quick to call off the engagement; he had a hidden hand in it all.
“Should we let him manipulate us?” Wu Zisen’s frustration boiled over. He realized that his cousin was in danger of being handed over.
Lin Yi’an lifted his chin, sharp resolve in his eyes. “If the Young Master trusts me, he will not let that happen.”
Trust him?
“You and Lin Henglǐ are not so different. Both hide their tails well.” Wu Zisen laughed bitterly. Both were sly, untrustworthy men.
From the side chamber came noise, the maids calling for the young lady. Lin Yi’an turned to see Su Mei running toward him, skirts fluttering, delicate feet barely visible.
He thought she would leap into his arms, but she stopped just before him, her misty eyes fixed on him.
He froze.
She stamped a foot, hands on her hips, pointing at him. “You do not admit your mistake, I will not go back with you!”
Her fiery personality shocked him, but beneath it, he sensed the hidden affection. He smiled and leaned down to offer her a clean handkerchief at her skirt’s edge. “The ground is cold.”
The tender gesture was the Lin Third Master she remembered. Su Mei lowered her gaze to the handkerchief, tears spilling, finally collapsing into his arms. “They are all lying. Let’s go home. Not the Duke’s Household, home. The apricot tree will bear fruit soon. You promised to help me pick them every year, make apricot preserves and wine.”
Her words dissolved into sobs, wetting his robe.
Lin Yi’an froze. The apricot tree, the one in his own courtyard? How did she know? Or was her imagination running wild because of her worsening condition?
He gently patted her back, helping her breathe, when suddenly she hiccupped loudly. The little lady, overwhelmed by eating and crying, covered her mouth, blushing, before burying her face in his chest.
She had clearly eaten too much.