Wen Lingyi felt as if her mind had been bombarded into oblivion, reduced to ruins.
It simply couldn’t process anymore.
Echoing in her ears was that bewildering statement: “I want to be a concubine—even if it means being the young mistress’s concubine, I am willing.”
Huh?
Look, just look—she had always said staying up late was no good. It leads to hallucinations.
Wen Lingyi patted her cold cheeks, instinctively stepping back and closing the door.
It wouldn’t shut.
A large hand wrapped in fine cloth held it firmly in place.
He looked utterly aggrieved, tears falling in large, heavy drops.
Each one struck right at Wen Lingyi’s heart.
“Don’t cry…” Wen Lingyi was at a loss. “You are the god of war who repelled the barbarians, the only remaining bloodline of Zhen Guo Gong in this world, and a hero to the people of Da Zhou…”
Her little general had suffered too much in the first half of his life; he deserved to bask in glory and prosperity from now on.
“What use is any of that? It can’t even earn me the right to be the young mistress’s concubine.”
The young man wept so sorrowfully, his glass-like eyes clouded with layers of mist. In the blink of an eye, tears rolled down his cheeks. He didn’t sob loudly, but clutched the corner of his clothes with one hand, his shoulders trembling uncontrollably. His voice was as faint as a kitten’s whimper, and even the occasional sniffle carried a fragile, cautious quality.
As if he had been abandoned by the whole world.
Wen Lingyi’s heart ached, and she instinctively reached out to tousle his disheveled hair.
Wei Zheng whimpered and tried to bury himself in Wen Lingyi’s embrace.
Still clinging to a shred of reason, Wen Lingyi quickly stepped back.
Wei Zheng lifted his tear-filled eyes. “If I am unworthy of being a concubine, then what about an outer chamber? I am willing to be the young mistress’s outer chamber, available at any time.”
“Please, don’t cast me aside.”
His fragmented, suppressed sobs were filled with boundless fear.
Wen Lingyi bit her lower lip tightly, refusing to let her own breakdown show.
When she was seven, she had gotten separated from her father at the lantern festival. It was Wei Zheng, with his battered body, who held off the human traffickers until her father found them.
Since then, he had stayed by her side.
As her father’s influence grew, Wen Lingyi faced increasing dangers.
Wei Zheng had taken arrows and blades for her. With nothing to his name, he could only protect her with his life.
From a young age, Wen Lingyi knew what she wanted. She was cautious with her words and actions, proceeding step by step with caution, never daring to make a single misstep, until she too could become her father’s shield.
The only time she had followed her heart was when she promised Wei Zheng she would wait for his triumphant return.
She still remembered how excited he had been that day, as if he had already won the war.
Afterward, he went to seek out her father in the study. She didn’t know what they discussed, but when he emerged, he was limping yet grinning like a fool.
Wen Lingyi watched from not far away as he approached step by step, and the seed long buried in her heart finally sprouted.
If she was overjoyed, Wei Zheng was a thousand times more expectant and hopeful.
But that tender sprout was poisoned by a beast, rotting deep in her heart, spreading and festering day after day.
Wen Lingyi endured the torment day and night, yet still couldn’t bear to uproot it entirely.
Now, it hurt even more.
Perhaps she was waiting for him to dig it out himself, so she could finally let go.
But this fool—he didn’t question why she had broken her promise, why she had married someone else. Instead, he came running to say he wanted to be a concubine, even an outer chamber…
Wen Lingyi wanted to laugh, but couldn’t.
“Wei Zheng.”
She took his hand, which was still clutching his clothes, and placed a faded yet smooth and polished camellia jade hairpin into his rough palm.
“You once said, camellia flowers wither but their petals do not fall.”
Wei Zheng looked at the jade hairpin in his palm, tears and laughter mingling on his face.
Withdrawing the hand that had been holding the door, he stubbornly wiped away his tears.
"Who said that!"
Wei Zheng's fingers tightened with force, and the camellia petal shattered instantly.
Wen Lingyi's breath caught in that moment, her heart torn asunder, her entire body trembling violently.
What she treasured as a precious gem—how could he bear to…
Wei Zheng noticed, his large hand trembling along with hers. He had intended to retrieve the paper cylinder hidden within the petal from the hairpin, but in his nervousness… he snapped the entire thing in two.
"Don't cry, please don't cry!" Wei Zheng was so frantic he didn't care whether the angle of her tears was graceful or not.
He hurriedly unrolled the paper cylinder.
"A… marriage contract?"
It wasn't the formal marriage contract exchanged after presenting betrothal gifts, but more like a voluntary petition from him, offering himself.
[It is humbly heard that the Old Man of the Moon ties red threads, determining mortal marriages. Now, Wei Zheng, of clean background, virtuous and gentle, respectful and obedient, with the consent of the father-in-law, wishes to enter the Wen family, to form a marital alliance with the young mistress, and to pledge a union of a hundred years.]
Wen Lingyi felt her mind explode once more, this time accidentally affecting her eyes.
Her vision grew increasingly blurred.
Wei Zheng sniffled, his voice small: "I was afraid you might one day shatter this jade hairpin. If you saw this marriage contract, you wouldn't be so sad."
At this point, he choked up again, turning into a pitiful, tearful mess: "But why did you guard it so carefully? I could give you more, better things! I clearly submitted the marriage contract. I was so close…"
"Wei Zheng—"
The secret hidden within the camellia jade hairpin, now revealed, was a fatal blow.
It struck Wen Lingyi utterly defenseless, leaving her in complete disarray.
She nearly stumbled as she rushed into his embrace.
Wei Zheng tightly wrapped his arms around her slender, soft waist, holding her so fiercely he wished to meld her into his very body, afraid that if he loosened his grip, she would vanish.
Wen Lingyi had never lost her composure like this before.
Even on the day she was 'caught in adultery,' she had slapped Chen Wenli hard and left without shedding a single tear.
Only when she stepped into the bridal sedan did Wen Lingyi feel as though she had cried out all the tears of her remaining life.
But now, she wept utterly without regard for her appearance.
"Why didn't you tell me earlier…"
Bringing it out now—was it to carve out her heart?
Wei Zheng very much wanted to say that the Prime Minister had already agreed to him; otherwise, even as a live-in son-in-law, he would not be worthy of the young mistress, pure and bright as the white moon.
Who could have known the Prime Minister would go back on his word?
So utterly useless.
Of course, Wei Zheng dared not say this. Throughout all of Da Zhou, one could not find a second father who doted on his daughter more than the Prime Minister.
He must have had his reasons for doing so.
Wei Zheng felt wronged, but Wei Zheng did not speak of it, only muttering softly: "Anyway, since the young mistress accepted my marriage contract, she must accept me as well."
"Whether as a concubine or an Outer Chamber, please grant me a title."
Wen Lingyi was both angered and amused. She lifted her head and bumped against his stubbled chin. She had intended to scold him, but seeing his disheveled, pitiful puppy-like appearance, her heart softened again.
"You're not ashamed anymore? Fighting desperately for a chance to legitimize yourself, yet still eager to become some worthless Outer Chamber."
Upon learning he was the illegitimate son of Zhen Guo Gong, Wei Zheng felt as though his world had collapsed.
He would rather have been an orphan.
So, no matter what Zhen Guo Gong said or did, he refused to return to the Duke's Mansion.
Wei Zheng had not enjoyed a single privilege of the Duke's Mansion's prestige, yet when news came of Zhen Guo Gong's death in battle, this fool stepped forward again, shouldering the crumbling Zhenguo Duke's Mansion.
Hearing the words "Outer Chamber" from anyone else would not have surprised Wen Lingyi.
But from Wei Zheng—he should not have said it.
Wei Zheng hunched over, his large, furry head resting on Wen Lingyi's shoulder, tears streaming freely from the corners of his eyes. "To hell with shame, to hell with reputation—I've lost my wife, what face do I have left to care about?"
He blinked his pitiful, tear-filled eyes at Wen Lingyi. "Young mistress, won't you really give me a proper title?"