Situ Sheng lay motionless, forcing Chu Linlang to check his breathing from time to time, worried he might already be dead.
After her tortoise shell divination produced yet another dire omen, she angrily tossed it aside and gave up. Taking a deep breath, she stared at his handsome face, eyes closed, and thought seriously: *If he truly dies in my carriage, where could I secretly bury his body to preserve my reputation?*
After a moment, she reached again to test his breath.But just as her fingers neared, Situ Sheng suddenly opened his eyes, cold as ancient frost, glaring at her impertinent gesture.
Chu Linlang gave an awkward smile, quickly shifting her hand to pull his blanket up: “It’s cold in the carriage, Master Situ—please keep warm.”
Whether he believed her or not, he only stared for a while, then closed his eyes again, unmoving.
Chu Linlang dared not test further. She pursed her lips and looked out the window—dense forest everywhere, perfect for hiding a corpse. But without a pickaxe, what could she do?
Suddenly, Situ Sheng groaned, lowered his head to his wounded arm, and muttered: “Not good… the blade that cut me seems poisoned…”
Chu Linlang sat bolt upright, panicked: “Then… won’t you die in my carriage?”
He said nothing. Fortunately, she had already tied his arm with cloth, slowing the spread. The wound was numb, but the poison seemed mild—likely the kind hunters used to fell prey unconscious. They had meant only to knock him out. If the poison were drawn, he might survive. He tried to suck the wound himself, but the angle was impossible.
Chu Linlang saw his intent, bit her nails nervously, and grew frantic at his slow movements. At last, she steeled herself, pushed his face aside, and pressed her lips to the wound, sucking out the tainted blood.
The pain made him stiffen, drawing a sharp breath. But Chu Linlang ignored him, sucking several mouthfuls before spitting the foul blood onto the blanket.
Situ Sheng lowered his gaze, seeing only her pale neck beneath dark hair, her slender back bent over him, her waist wrapped in pink silk, delicate and fragile before his eyes.
He recalled drunken officials once teasing Zhou Sui’an: “All the wives in Lianzhou are dark-skinned, yet yours is white as snow—what’s your secret?”
Now that snow-white wife was bent over him, earnestly saving his life, unaware that her soft body pressed against his. He remembered how she had once stumbled into his back at the city gate.
He drew a deep breath, closed his eyes, and suppressed something within. At last, when the blood ran clear, he rasped: “Enough…”
Chu Linlang quickly rinsed her mouth with tea, fearful of swallowing poison. Still uneasy, she whispered: “Are you sure it’s clean? You mustn’t die in my carriage—I don’t even have a spade to bury you!”
The tutor narrowed his eyes and said slowly: “Perhaps you should divine again—see when I’ll die, so you’ll know when to bury me.”
Chu Linlang realized her slip of the tongue, laughed awkwardly, and fell silent. She feared death herself, but feared more that he might die here. Better to risk helping him.
If she were also poisoned, she could faint and leave the mess to him. As for propriety between man and woman—she had long cast it aside.
Fortunately, heaven spared her. They reached the carpentry shop safely.
Chu Linlang had the carriage stop behind the shop, sending the driver and Xia He inside to hurry the order.
Seizing the chance, Situ Sheng slipped out, arm bound, and paused to tell her softly: “Madam, please keep this secret. Do not even tell Lord Zhou—lest your reputation suffer.”
She needed no reminder. This was a secret she would take to the grave.
He thought a moment, then added: “I know a little of divination. To thank you for saving me, let me cast a fortune. Soon, Lianzhou’s feng shui will change. If Lord Zhou adjusts his position, it will greatly benefit your family’s fate.”
Chu Linlang eyed him skeptically: “Master… are your predictions reliable?”
He gave a cold laugh: “Not very. But more accurate than your tortoise shell.”
With that, he turned and vanished into the smoke of village chimneys.
When Xia He came out of the shop, she saw Chu Linlang standing by the carriage, gazing into the distance.
Earlier, Chu Linlang had forbidden her to enter the carriage. Frozen from the journey, Xia He finally climbed in to fetch a hand warmer—only to be shocked by the blood-soaked blanket.
“Madam, this… this…”
Chu Linlang quickly entered, dropped the curtain, and whispered: “My monthly bleeding came suddenly. I stained it by accident. Say nothing.”
Xia He was stunned. The timing wasn’t right at all! Was Madam hemorrhaging? How could her monthly bleeding spill so much blood?
But Chu Linlang’s face darkened: “Say no more. Let’s go back quickly.”
On the way, Chu Linlang again excused herself, claiming she needed relief. She bundled the bloodstained blanket, carried it from the carriage, and secretly tossed it into a fishing hole on the river.
Xia He sensed something strange, but seeing Chu Linlang’s grave expression, she dared not ask further.
After cleaning the carriage, Chu Linlang felt drained and weak. Yet the fright from Situ Sheng seemed to have driven her fever away. She pondered his final words. Surely they weren’t idle courtesy. He was not the sort to believe in feng shui like she did—so what deeper meaning lay behind them? How much truth?
Why was Situ Sheng, who should have been in the capital, suddenly in Lianzhou? Who wanted him dead?
She couldn’t figure it out. Though the bloodstains were wiped clean, a faint scent of soap lingered—the fragrance of Situ Sheng—tugging at her nerves with restless thoughts.
At the city gate, soldiers from the nearby garrison were assisting in inspections. Even the magistrate’s wife’s carriage could not pass unchecked.
Chu Linlang had to step down and wait while they searched. Luckily, she had tidied everything well, and nothing suspicious was found.
By the time she returned home, it was nearly dusk. Zhou Sui’an had not yet come back.
Chu Linlang sent someone to inquire at a clerk’s house nearby why the gates were suddenly under strict guard.
Soon word came from the yamen: a murder! In the neighboring county, a retired official had been killed. He had once served in Lianzhou, and his son was now a magistrate in Jizhou. The crime had occurred within Lianzhou’s borders, and the city was hunting the killer.
Hearing this, Chu Linlang bit her finger nervously. She feared she had unwittingly helped the murderer escape. If Situ Sheng had truly killed, then she was guilty of aiding a criminal. She paced around the table, deciding to confess to Zhou Sui’an when he returned—that she had once accidentally saved Situ Sheng.
A woman’s reputation was important, but she could not condone evil.
Just then, Zhou Sui’an came back from outside the city. He did not go to his concubine’s quarters, but straight to Chu Linlang’s room. Before she could speak, he boasted: “You always know the news first. Have you heard anything?”
Chu Linlang had heard plenty, but nothing she could tell him. So she tested him: “What news?”
After three cups of cold tea, Zhou Sui’an lowered his voice: “There was nearly a murder in the neighboring county.”
Chu Linlang’s eyes widened: “Nearly? So the victim lived?”
He nodded: “The killer struck, but a servant stumbled upon them. Two men fought inside, then fled. One was wounded and later found dead in the meadow. The other vanished. So all the county gates are under strict watch, searching for the fugitive.”
Chu Linlang pressed: “But did the victim die?”
Zhou Sui’an continued: “The gentleman was lucky. Thought beyond saving, yet revived. I heard from the magistrate—he said when the killer tried to cut his throat, a young man rushed in, blocked with his arm, and fought the masked assailant. That’s how he survived. But in the chaos, he couldn’t recognize the rescuer, nor identify the corpse. The wound was deep—his voice leaks air when he speaks…”
He finished, then noticed Chu Linlang biting her nails nervously, and laughed: “See how frightened you are? Don’t worry. Guards have been posted at every official’s residence. The killer won’t reach our home.”
He thought his wife was scared of the crime, and tried to comfort her.
But Chu Linlang’s mind was racing. Was Situ Sheng the killer—or the savior? Had she rescued a murderer?
A prince’s tutor, traveling thousands of miles to kill? It made no sense. Yet why was he at the scene? What hidden currents swirled here?
Zhou Sui’an, eager to impress, kept talking of official matters, though he had little to say. He had wanted to comfort his wife these days, but she seemed busy.
After only a few words, a servant summoned him away. Madam Zhao kept a close watch, fearing her son wasted effort on Chu Linlang.
Chu Linlang no longer cared about her mother-in-law’s schemes. That night, she thought less of Zhou Sui’an than of Situ Sheng.
That man seemed fated to clash with her—every meeting left her anxious and sleepless.
Days later, the wounded gentleman recovered enough to identify the corpse—it was indeed the assassin who had attacked him.
Chu Linlang breathed relief. Situ Sheng was not the killer she had feared she saved. She had not aided evil but performed a good deed. Since he wished it kept secret, she would not speak of it, nor entangle herself further. As for his words about fortune and official destiny, she dismissed them entirely.
Chu Linlang carried her secret quietly. Zhou Sui’an found no joy either.
The murder case in the neighboring county faded unresolved.
Meanwhile, his rival Zhang Xian returned from the capital, strutting like a gilded phoenix, arrogant and domineering, scorning everyone. Several times, he mocked the Prefect in front of colleagues. And as for Zhou Suian, the young man who once slapped him—Zhang Xian never forgot.
Petty men hold grudges forever.