Little boys of Xie Yunzhi’s age naturally admire young men who are strong, skilled in fighting, and help punish bad people.
“Second Sister…” Xie Yunzhi’s eyes sparkled as he excitedly told her the whole story.
Xie Lanqi finally understood what had happened from beginning to end.
“Second Sister, we have to go thank him.”
“Second Young Master, that is the Heir of the Marquis of An Yuan,” Die Meng gently tugged at him.
The age difference between them was too great. In past years, even when Zhao Jin had to visit out of courtesy, he never bothered to build any rapport with Xie Yunzhi. That’s why the boy didn’t recognize him.
“Ah…”
Xie Yunzhi’s small brows furrowed in confusion. This amazing big brother he really liked—how could he also be the big jerk his mother kept scolding?
“Don’t think too much about it.” Xie Lanqi lightly flicked his forehead. “Let’s go.”
From the corner of his eye, Zhao Jin saw the graceful figure drawing closer and closer. He turned around stiffly, feeling deeply annoyed with himself.
In his previous life, by the time they married, he had already fallen into the mud. All his poverty, despair, and struggles were laid bare in front of her without any cover.
In contrast, Xie Lanqi—though she seemed soft and fragile as a woman—was actually tough and resilient. Facing such desperate circumstances, she never cried or made a fuss. Instead, she thought of every possible way to help him survive the worst.
In every word and action, she was the perfect, blameless virtuous wife. Zhao Jin respected her deeply and felt endless guilt toward her—he never dared harbor even the slightest disrespectful thought.
Yet in the dead of night, when he looked at her peaceful sleeping face on the other bed, Zhao Jin sometimes wondered: If only in his youth he hadn’t treated her so badly, if only he could have appeared before her in his best possible light—how wonderful that would have been.
That secret wish, buried deep in his heart and never spoken aloud, had somehow come true in this life.
But first there was the chaos at Youfu Temple, and now this bloody scene. Zhao Jin regretted acting so harshly earlier. He was afraid that in her eyes, he now looked like nothing but a violent brute.
His footsteps felt heavy as he turned around.
“Thank you, Young Master, for saving my younger brother.” Xie Lanqi bowed calmly and expressed her gratitude.
“No need, it was nothing. I should have done it.”
Zhao Jin saw no fear on her face and felt a wave of relief in his heart. His features were sharp and stern—his face alone didn’t look approachable. So he forced a small smile at the corners of his lips, softened his gaze, and tried his best to appear harmless.
Xie Lanqi looked at him strangely for a moment or two.
“Yunzhi thanks you, Young Master. You’re really amazing!”
Xie Yunzhi’s eyes shone brightly. He stood straight and tall like a little adult.
After thanking him, Xie Lanqi politely said goodbye and left without any hesitation.
Xie Yunzhi, on the other hand, kept looking back every few steps. Once they were in the carriage, he said, “Second Sister, did you notice his face was all red and sweaty just now?”
“It must have been the heat,” the little boy answered himself. “I’ll send him a bowl of ice cream.”
Before Xie Lanqi could speak, Xie Yunzhi had already lifted the small wooden tub and slipped down from the carriage with it in his arms.
……
Xie Yunzhi came running back. Zhao Jin looked behind him again and again, disappointed, then turned his gaze away.
Why did the kid keep staring at his face? Zhao Jin touched his own cheek, gave a low chuckle, and ruffled Xie Yunzhi’s hair. “Is there a flower on my face?”
“Young Master… are you still hot?” His face wasn’t red anymore, and the sweat was gone. Xie Yunzhi frowned and asked.
Zhao Jin glanced at the small wooden tub in the boy’s hands that was still giving off cold vapor. He immediately started fanning himself with his hand. “Very hot.”
“Here’s a bowl of ice cream for you. My Second Sister made it—it’s really delicious.”
Xie Yunzhi was about to lift the lid when a large hand reached over, took the handle, and lifted the entire tub away.
“From now on, little brother, you can call me… Big Brother.” Zhao Jin really wanted the boy to call him Second Brother-in-Law, but that would come soon enough.
“Huh?” Xie Yunzhi stared blankly at him, conflicted. He had only wanted to give him one bowl—not the whole tub!
“Little brother?”
Xie Yunzhi opened his mouth, huffed and puffed a few times, but in the end said nothing.
Back in the carriage, his round little face was full of complicated emotions. “What’s wrong?”
Xie Yunzhi refused to speak at first. Only after the carriage started moving slowly did he whisper his confusion to her. “Second Sister, am I being stingy?”
Xie Lanqi smiled and shook her head. The other person had definitely been teasing him on purpose.
A gust of wind blew in, lifting the window gauze just enough to reveal Zhao Jin’s side profile—tall, straight, and imposing.
Zhao Jin seemed to sense something and looked over, but by then the gauze had fallen back into place. He watched the carriage disappear into the distance.
Xie Lanqi was slightly lost in thought. All the wild rumors she had heard about him, and what she had just seen with her own eyes—the Heir of the Marquis of An Yuan, Zhao Jin, truly was arrogant and domineering. So why did he seem so restrained and awkward when facing her?
“Second Sister?”
Xie Lanqi snapped back to reality with a small start. Anyway, there would be no more contact between them—this little doubt vanished in an instant.
……
Back at the Marquis of Jing’an residence.
Lady Liang still didn’t know what had happened at the city gate. She looked Xie Lanqi up and down, saw her daughter’s beautiful features, radiant complexion, and excellent health, and finally let go of her worry. A smile appeared on her face as she handed her a card.
“The Zhou Princess Consort invites me to admire the hydrangeas the day after tomorrow?” Xie Lanqi was surprised.
Lady Liang sighed inwardly. The year Xie Lanqi came of age, her grandaunt—the one who raised her—passed away. After burying the elderly woman in Huizhou Prefecture, they brought her back to the capital.
The child had been overwhelmed with grief and fell seriously ill upon arriving in the capital. It took a huge price to cure her.
Because Xie Lanqi had been adopted by her grandaunt (who had no children of her own), she insisted on observing three full years of mourning and never attended any banquets or social gatherings.
Among the noble young ladies of the capital, Xie Lanqi had no presence at all—not even a single close girlfriend.
In the past, Lady Liang hadn’t thought much of it. But now, remembering how her eldest daughter Xie Lanjin, before marriage, went on outings to enjoy flowers, had constant social visits with other girls, and was praised by matrons of various households for her beauty and talent—even after marrying into a scholarly family, her mother-in-law and sisters-in-law never dared look down on her.
In the end, they had truly wronged this child.
“The Zhou Princess Consort comes from the Duke of Chengguo’s household—she is the legitimate eldest daughter and has a kind and generous nature,” Lady Liang explained thoughtfully for Xie Lanqi’s sake. “Although your father and I intend to keep you in the marquis household for life, the rumors are fierce right now. Making friends with the Zhou Princess Consort can only bring benefits and no harm.”
Xie Lanqi had no choice but to agree. Even if she herself didn’t care, she still had to consider the reputation of the marquis household.
Moreover, what happened at the city gate today perfectly confirmed Lady Liang’s worries.
That night, a heavy rain poured down and lasted all night and the next day. The summer heat was completely swept away, and cool autumn air gradually arrived.
In the palace, a storm also broke out before the emperor.
“My young son lost half his teeth and nearly lost his life! Right under the Son of Heaven’s feet, Zhao Jin dared to act so violently—does the An Yuan Marquis household still have any regard for the law?” Xue Gui, father of Xue San and elder brother of Prince Lu’s birth mother Consort Shun, wiped away old tears as he filed an imperial complaint. “I beg Your Majesty to seek justice for my son.”
“Your Majesty, the Marquis of An Yuan requests an audience.”
The aging emperor waved his hand. “Bring him in.”
Zhao Jin entered together with the Marquis of An Yuan and paid their respects.
“Zhao Jin, you scoundrel! Why did you beat my son?” Xue Gui demanded aggressively.
“He deserved it.” Zhao Jin didn’t even glance at him; his brows and eyes were cold and sharp.
The old emperor’s eyelids twitched. Although the boy was young, he showed no fear and had become much steadier and more imposing. Suddenly, the emperor asked, “Regarding the widow of the Zhang family suing her brother-in-law—did you interfere in that matter?”
The Marquis of An Yuan was startled. Instead of asking about the beating, His Majesty was asking about the widow Zhang suing Zhang Wu—two things that seemed completely unrelated. But upon closer thought, it was terrifying.
If His Majesty even knew about something like this, how could he not know the reason behind the beating?
“In reply to Your Majesty, the Zhang widow and her orphans had their family property seized and were on the verge of starving to death. This subject could not bear it, so I gave her an ingot of silver and helped her find a litigation master to draft a complaint and file it with the authorities.” Zhao Jin did not conceal anything.
The old emperor did not believe Zhao Jin’s explanation. What interested him was that Zhao Jin had thought to use the law to punish the Zhang family member rather than simply resorting to crude violence—he was someone with brains.
“You understand the law?” the old emperor pressed.
“I dare not claim to understand it fully. I can only recite the Great Yue Code and the Military Exile Regulations.”
The old emperor clapped his hands and laughed. “Good, very good.”
No one expected the emperor to actually praise Zhao Jin. Xue Gui’s crying choked off abruptly.
Even the Marquis of An Yuan looked sideways at his son. Zhao Jin was skilled with bow and horse and only liked military books—when had he ever been willing to read the Four Books and Five Classics? When did he learn to recite the Great Yue Code?
The old emperor had reason to praise him. From the founding ancestor to the current emperor, the dynasty had always valued military officials. A special office of Five Armies Judicial Officers was established under the Central Military Command to handle criminal cases involving the army and military nobles.
Historically, these Five Armies Judicial Officers were always selected from the noble families.
However, as time passed, the older generation with military merit and prestige died off, and the younger nobles became increasingly useless. Civil officials repeatedly submitted memorials impeaching the Judicial Officers for not understanding the law, causing many wrongful convictions. They begged to select scholars who were well-versed in law from the successful examination candidates to serve in the office and handle criminal cases.
The old emperor himself had risen on horseback and naturally trusted the nobles. Although he had successively demoted two Judicial Officers, he still rejected all the civil officials’ memorials.
But the nobles were not living up to expectations, and suitable candidates were hard to find.
Now looking at Zhao Jin—good background, tough character, able to suppress others, and most importantly, knowledgeable in law so he wouldn’t attract another pile of impeachment memorials—the old emperor was very satisfied.
As for being too young, he could first enter the Five Armies Judicial Office as an inspector, gain experience, and then be promoted later.
“Zhao Jin, you have already undergone the coming-of-age ceremony and have not yet taken up any official duties. I will give you a task—can you accomplish it properly?”
“This subject will certainly not fail Your Majesty’s grace.”
The old emperor nodded in satisfaction.
“Your Majesty, Zhao Jin beat my son in broad daylight—lawless and utterly rebellious! I beg Your Majesty to seek justice!” Xue Gui was furious. He had come to file a complaint—how could Zhao Jin not be punished and instead be given an official task? He refused to accept it.
“Your Majesty, Xue San insulted this subject’s fiancée first; this subject beat him afterward. He deserved it,” Zhao Jin said.
Xue Gui burst into loud sobs again.
The old emperor gave a cold snort. His deeply wrinkled face instantly darkened.
“You failed to raise your son properly, and you still have the face to cry in front of me?”
Xue Gui’s crying stopped instantly. He looked up in terror.
“Your marriage was arranged by your grandfather before his death. The fact that you honor the elders’ wishes makes you a filial son.” When the emperor turned to Zhao Jin, his expression became kind and pleasant. “If all the sons in the world were as filial as you, half my worries would disappear.”
Considering the emperor’s age, the hidden meaning in his words was crystal clear.
Xue Gui no longer dared to cry.
“You may all withdraw.”
……
After leaving the palace gates, the Marquis of An Yuan asked about the matter of the law. Zhao Jin brushed it off with an excuse.
Back at the An Yuan Marquis residence, Zhao Jin entered his bedroom. On the head of the bed lay a book with slightly curled pages—clearly its owner read it often.
Zhao Jin held the book and stared into space. In his previous life, during exile and military service in Liaodong, the duties were endless: drills, defense, building walls, reclaiming wasteland, and more. The garrison officers—thousand-household commanders, hundred-household commanders, and the like—took turns deducting monthly rations and extorting money.
He had fallen into the dust with nothing to his name. It was Xie Lanqi who raised money for him and bribed the various superiors so he could survive.
Later, when he finally gained a foothold and, by chance, earned the trust of the Garrison Judicial Officer (who handled criminal cases in the garrison), Xie Lanqi was even more dedicated than he was. She studied the Great Yue Code and other legal statutes intently and often asked him how cases were prosecuted, tried, and sentenced in practice.
Only then did Zhao Jin become interested in those dry articles he had once despised. He never expected that this would now earn the emperor’s favor.
Thinking of Xie Lanqi, Zhao Jin’s emotions surged. It was a long time before he finally fell asleep.
……
On this day, the weather was fine—cool breezes, neither cold nor hot. Xie Lanqi attended the hydrangea-viewing banquet hosted by the Zhou Princess Consort.
In the Zhou Prince’s garden, the hydrangeas bloomed in shades of pale blue, soft purple, and pink—full, lush, and gorgeous. The princess consort was frank and straightforward by nature. Overall, the banquet was enjoyable for both host and guests.
However, upon returning to the Jing’an Marquis residence and facing Lady Liang’s earnest concern, Xie Lanqi felt a pang in her heart. Compared to this current warm care, she actually preferred their former attitude toward her—neither withholding nor spoiling, treating her like a guest. That way, she could truly treat everything as one big dream.
Now, Xie Lanqi realized she could no longer remain detached.
“Mother, regarding the Heir of An Yuan beating Xue San—Xue San’s father complained to His Majesty, and His Majesty…”
After hearing the full story, Lady Liang’s face changed dramatically. Mother and daughter looked at each other and both understood the danger.
It was not the emperor’s handling of the matter that was frightening, but the fact that everything had already been settled. If the Zhou Princess Consort had not mentioned it, they would never have known.
This showed exactly how marginalized the Jing’an Marquis household had become.
On the fifth day of the eighth month, disaster suddenly struck the Jing’an Marquis household.
An imperial censor accused the Marquis of Jing’an, Xie Hao, of illegally seizing civilian land, privately keeping large numbers of slaves, and living in excessive luxury. He requested strict punishment to serve as a warning to others.
The entire Jing’an Marquis household fell into panic.