Wen Ning held her breath, quietly pulling the pillow from beneath her neck. Thank heavens—ancient pillows were hard. Though she hadn’t slept well tonight, largely because of that uncomfortable block, she decided to forgive it now.
As the man crept into her room, Wen Ning seized the moment. She sat up abruptly, hurled the pillow, striking his shoulder, and shouted sharply: “This is the Protector’s mansion—who dares such insolence!”
Startled, the man froze. Outside, Chunxi’s voice rang out: “Madam? What happened?”
Wen Ning called loudly: “Chunxi, go call for help!”
At that, the intruder panicked, scrambled back out the window, and vanished into the night.
Wen Ning hurried to the window. The inner lock was broken. She steadied her breathing—then caught a faint medicinal scent on the warm breeze: millettia, honeysuckle vine, and gentian root.
Soon, two guards rushed in. Not long after, Concubine Luo arrived, dressed more simply than by day but still dignified, followed by maids and several other women of the household—including Concubine Cheng, her long hair loose, looking even more alluring than earlier.
Wen Ning noted Concubine Cheng’s startled expression. It didn’t look feigned. Tonight’s intruder wasn’t her doing. She had only just mentioned bringing a physician tomorrow; she wouldn’t be so hasty.
But Wen Ning was certain: the man was the same one Concubine Cheng had been meeting in secret. Were they acting separately now?
Concubine Luo stepped forward. “Ning’er, what happened?”
Wen Ning saw no sign of Chunxi among them. Clearly, these women hadn’t been summoned by her maid. She was about to answer when hurried footsteps sounded outside. A maid rushed in, eyes shining: “Madam, the Protector… the Protector has returned!”
The words struck like thunder. The women’s faces lit with joy and excitement.
Concubine Luo, usually the most composed, was stunned, then her lips curved high, eyes sparkling. “So sudden? Quickly, to the gate to welcome him!” She swept out eagerly.
Wen Ning’s matter was instantly forgotten. Her brows furrowed. Now she understood why Concubine Cheng’s lover had acted so rashly. He was surely someone within the mansion. While the master was away, he played king. Now that Chen Jinfeng had returned, he feared exposure. Unable to wait for Concubine Cheng, he had tried to silence Wen Ning himself. Though she hadn’t seen his face, he didn’t know that. He must believe she had recognized him. Failing tonight, he would surely try again. And his methods were far cruder than Concubine Cheng’s. Next time, she might not escape.
Wen Ning’s lips pressed tight. Tonight, she had to eliminate this adulterous pair. She followed the women toward the front courtyard. But before they arrived, a tall, lean young man in dark blue robes appeared with burly guards. His voice was icy: “By order of the master, none of you need go forward. Return to your rooms.”
He was stern, expressionless, yet he radiated authority.
Wen Ning instantly recalled his name—Fang Wu—the true steward of the mansion, Chen Jinfeng’s trusted confidant.
Chunxi trailed him, anxious. “Chief Fang, about our madam’s matter…” She must have gone straight to him.
Fang Wu’s cold eyes flicked toward Wen Ning. “I know. Once the master’s affairs are settled, I will send someone to investigate.”
Wen Ning’s heart tightened. She had no doubt he would investigate. In such a guarded mansion, any breach must be examined. But when, and how? She needed swift action.
She stepped forward. “Chief Fang, I saw the man’s face. If we don’t find him now, he may flee. Later, it will be too late.”
Fang Wu blinked, surprised at her boldness, then frowned impatiently. “I said—the master’s matters come first…”
“This matter concerns the master too.” Wen Ning cut him off, feigning urgency. “Tonight, just as the Protector returns, an intruder strikes. Who knows if he was targeting the master? While the Protector was away, you managed the mansion. Surely you don’t want this to become an unsolved case, leaving you unable to answer him?”
She cleverly shifted suspicion from herself to Chen Jinfeng.
But Fang Wu was not so easily deceived. His face grew colder. “You—”
“Ah, Second Brother, long time no see. Your courtyard is as lively as ever.” A lazy male voice interrupted.
Wen Ning looked up. From the corridor, two men approached, surrounded by attendants. The moon was bright, the lamps aglow. She saw clearly the man in front. Tall, broad‑shouldered, clad in black fitted robes, his figure straight as a pine. His face was carved like stone, every line perfection. Long, narrow eyes half‑closed, lips curved in a languid smile—yet his gaze was sharp as blades, forbidding approach. Without his aura, he would be called a demon in beauty. Step by step, he advanced, silent yet commanding all eyes, drawing respect and fear alike.
Wen Ning’s gaze met his. He lifted his eyes, locking with hers. Her heart flickered. She lowered her lashes calmly. Now she truly understood her “cheap husband.” He was no mere man, but one of the overlords of this chaotic world—holding countless lives in his hands, with power enough to shape the fate of nations.
He had heard her words.
She had never thought to deceive this towering figure, yet hadn’t expected him to appear now. Whether his arrival was fortune or disaster—she could not yet tell.