According to Zhou Lin, Luo Xinci’s entire family was in Linzhou, so the person she sought must be connected to Linzhou.
At first, when Ming Yuhe probed and discovered that Luo Xinci intended to use marriage as a pretext to approach the young talents and noble daughters of the capital, he assumed she had come to seek out a faithless man.
After the Zhou Yi incident, Lianxing began secretly inquiring about officials in the capital with the surname Wang, and Ming Yuhe obtained new clues. The person she was looking for bore the surname Wang, was a civil official in the capital, and had children nearing marriageable age. If she were searching for kin, such superficial traits would not suffice. Thus, it was far more likely she sought vengeance.
Ming Yuhe combed through the registry of capital officials surnamed Wang and narrowed the targets to three: Wang Shu, Dean of the Imperial Academy; Wang Pingyan, Assistant Director of the Bureau of Astronomy; and Wang Siqing, Censor of the Court of Imperial Censors.
The first two men both had ancestral homes in towns within Linzhou, while the latter had once served as Prefect of Linzhou and resided there for six years.
All three held respectable posts; to have risen to such positions, there was naturally no record of wrongdoing. How could that warrant a young woman chasing them across a thousand miles?
Ming Yuhe had not yet unraveled the matter completely, but he was in no hurry. First, the guards sent to investigate Linzhou in secret had not yet returned. Second, once the day of the contest arrived, Luo Xinci would inevitably reveal more. So it was, on the appointed day agreed upon by Jiang Liyang and Fan Ning.
This would be Luo Xinci’s first time going out together with Ming Yuhe, and it meant she would truly appear before the capital’s crowd under the guise of Ming Niansheng. Among them were nobles and household retainers—who could say whether some had once traveled to Linzhou and happened to have seen her? Such a risk greatly increased the possibility of exposure and also erected barriers to Ming Niansheng’s future freedom.
Luo Xinci felt a little nervous, but Lianxing reassured her: “Don’t worry. Linzhou and the capital are so far apart, it won’t be such a coincidence. Besides, you and ‘the young lady’ are both daughters kept in the inner chambers—ordinary people would never have seen you, so few could recognize you.”
Luo Xinci pressed her hand to her chest, comforting herself: “Yes, even if they did see me, they would only suspect they remembered wrong.”
The two followed the maid toward the front courtyard. Their guilty unease shifted instantly into tension when, from afar along the covered walkway, they caught sight of Marquis Wuling.
Before entering the capital, Ming Niansheng had warned Luo Xinci countless times to keep far away from the Marquis. Luo Xinci already feared him, and after that accident in the study… She had not forgotten: under Ming Yuhe’s pressure, she had promised to strike within three months—to kill this very Marquis Wuling.
“Within three months, settle everything. Have Niansheng send a false message, saying the old madam is gravely ill, and return to Linzhou first.”
Luo Xinci silently steeled herself, while outwardly bowing respectfully to greet the Marquis.
The Marquis had been speaking with his guards beneath the corridor. When he saw Luo Xinci, he stopped and said impatiently: “Didn’t I tell you to stay quietly in the rear courtyard?”
Head lowered, Luo Xinci was still shaping her reply when a guard explained: “It was the young marquis who summoned the young lady.”
The Marquis seemed to pause, gave a cold snort, flicked his sleeve, and strode away.
The encounter was brief, and Luo Xinci did not dwell on it. After waiting about half a stick of incense beneath the corridor, Ming Yuhe appeared.
A guard whispered something to him first, then he approached with a smiling air, exchanged a few pleasantries, and led Luo Xinci outside, asking as they walked: “Has Niansheng looked through those portraits? Is there anyone she favors?”
Luo Xinci had anticipated this question and was well prepared. Calmly she replied: “I have. The young gentlemen of the capital are all handsome and refined, rare talents indeed…”
Ming Yuhe chuckled.
Luo Xinci pretended not to notice, setting aside maidenly reserve and speaking with deliberate frankness: “But if I must say who suits my heart, it would be only these three: Wang Linghao, Yang Qitan, and Wang Jiqiu.”
In truth, she had studied only the portraits of those surnamed Wang; the rest she merely glanced at, noting names so as not to offend.
Yang Qitan was the sole outsider she deliberately added to throw off suspicion.
Unfortunately, Ming Yuhe saw through her ploy at once, ignoring Yang Qitan entirely.
Wang Linghao was the eldest son of Wang Shu; Wang Jiqiu’s father was Wang Siqing. The other Wang—Wang Pingyan—also had a son, but Luo Xinci had excluded him.
“How convenient. I’ve already had it confirmed—these three will all be present today. Niansheng can see them face to face.”
“Thank you, elder brother.”
The “siblings” each harbored their own designs, yet exchanged smiles as though in harmony.
The drill ground south of the city had once belonged to a general of the former dynasty and had been used to train his soldiers. Later, a frivolous prince claimed it as his own, intending to build a mansion there—but before construction began, the dynasty collapsed. Through decades of turmoil, the place had completely degenerated into a playground for the nobility.
When Ming Yuhe arrived with Luo Xinci, the grounds were already bustling with noise and excitement.
The sight of Marquis Wuling’s carriage drew surprise; people quickly made way, which only made them more conspicuous. Before the carriage even stopped, a loud cry of “Cousin!” rang out—Jiang Liyang had darted to its side.
“Cousin, you really came! Where’s Aunt? Did Aunt come too?”
A guard lifted the curtain, revealing Ming Yuhe’s face. He said lightly, “Here to watch you bully young girls?”
Jiang Liyang flushed red, protesting angrily: “What do you mean bully young girls? She’s two months older than me! And besides, she provoked me first—she doesn’t even treat herself like a girl!”
Both Jiang Liyang and Fan Ning were just past fifteen—mere children in Ming Yuhe’s eyes. He did not argue with Jiang Liyang. Instead, he stepped down from the carriage, his robe sweeping, and the young gentlemen who had come to greet him quickly bowed.
Ming Yuhe gave a slight nod, his gaze shifting to fall upon Wang Jiqiu, who stood behind Jiang Liyang.
Wang Jiqiu was Jiang Liyang’s study companion. Among this group of brash, impulsive noble youths, trouble was common. Suddenly singled out by the young Marquis’s stare, Wang Jiqiu panicked, avoiding eye contact.
So she had chosen such a callow boy… Ming Yuhe frowned briefly, then his expression eased. He understood—it was about age.
The two Wang youths Luo Xinci had selected were both under seventeen. The son of the Assistant Director of the Bureau of Astronomy was excluded because he was already nineteen. That meant the Wang official she sought must have married no more than eighteen years ago—a new clue for Ming Yuhe—but of little use. According to the Bureau of Archives’ records, the two Wang officials married in the same year. His effort wasted, his mood soured. In front of everyone, he turned back toward the carriage, extending his hand with gentle courtesy: “Niansheng, let your brother help you down.”
Inside, Luo Xinci froze, just as those outside did.
The crowd was astonished—no one had ever seen the young Marquis offer his hand to any girl other than Princess Shao’an. Who was this mysterious “Niansheng”?
Within the carriage, Luo Xinci pressed herself against the wall in alarm. What madness was he playing at?
As she faltered, Jiang Liyang was the first to react, stamping his foot: “Cousin, why did you bring her here? I don’t welcome her! Send her away!”
“Do not be rude.” Ming Yuhe reproved softly, reminding him, “Niansheng is a year older than you. You should call her Cousin Sister.”
Jiang Liyang’s face turned pale.
Ming Yuhe then called gently toward the carriage: “Niansheng, don’t be afraid. Your elder brother is here.”
Luo Xinci had only ever called him “elder brother” once—back when she was frightened by the corpse in the study. Later she felt the term too intimate and switched to “brother.” Hearing Ming Yuhe now refer to himself as “elder brother,” she felt a painful twist in her heart. Afraid he might say more, she quickly steadied herself against the carriage wall and bent low to step out. The moment she emerged, countless eyes turned upon her. Her face burned; she dared not lift her head. Seeing Ming Yuhe’s hand extended, she instinctively placed her own upon it. His hand was large, supporting her wrist from beneath. The heat of his palm seeped through her sleeve into her skin, stirring a strange tremor. As he helped her down, he applied a firm grip, his fingers closing around her forearm like the talons of a hawk clutching its prey—unyielding. She could not tell whether her racing heart came from the touch of a man outside her family, or from the unsettling image it conjured. Her cheeks flushed scarlet; once her feet touched the ground, she quickly withdrew her hand, still not daring to look up.
Their silent exchange revealed a bond far deeper than words. Jiang Liyang, watching the entire scene, was utterly undone. “Cousin, you—you can’t possibly be with her, she…” Choking on half a sentence, he stamped his foot and ran off.
The other youths were bewildered. Some wanted to watch the drama unfold, but lacking any information and courage, they bowed respectfully and followed Jiang Liyang away.
When the crowd had dispersed, Ming Yuhe bent toward Luo Xinci, who still kept her head lowered, and whispered in her ear: “Niansheng…” His breath brushed her ear, sending a tingling shiver through her.
This was no true elder brother—it was an outsider!
Luo Xinci quickly stepped back to escape, glancing around as she did.
“…That one in the blue robe just now was Wang Jiqiu. Did you see him?”
She had not dared look at anyone at all! Forcing away the strange sensation, she rose on tiptoe to peer in the direction the youths had gone. But the crowd was thick, and Jiang Liyang’s group had vanished like fish into water—not a trace remained.
“Don’t worry. Let’s go to the viewing stand first. Later, elder brother will call him over to you.”
From the bottom of her heart, Luo Xinci was grateful. “Thank you, elder brother!” This time she truly meant it. Without him, given her identity, she would not have been able to approach these noble sons even after half a month. Yet as always, her goodwill toward Ming Yuhe never lasted long.
He smiled, then asked a question that left her speechless. He said: “By the way, Niansheng was born in the autumn of the Qihai year. You’re already sixteen and a half. Why is it that all the ones you fancy are younger than you?”
Luo Xinci: “…”
Ming Yuhe laughed with delight, continuing: “In those portraits I gave you, there were plenty of mature, accomplished young men with titles. Why did you choose only these callow boys?
“Ordinary girls, when seeking a match, usually prefer someone two or three years older. Yet Niansheng has picked not one but three younger than herself. That truly puzzles your brother.”
Luo Xinci grew flustered. But she had faced such situations often enough to learn quick improvisation. After a brief pause, she found an excuse: “I simply like those younger than me.” She even patched the story: “Zhou Yi was an exception. I only wanted to steal him away…”
Ming Yuhe raised his brows, pressing further: “You like them a few years younger?”
In truth, her interest in these youths was only a cover for her search. She thought to say one or two years younger, but then remembered she did not even know how many children her father had, or whether he had a son at all. Perhaps none. With that thought, the scope widened—she could not afford to close off possibilities. Drawing a deep breath, she declared earnestly: “One or two years younger, four or five, even seven or eight—I don’t mind. Thirteen or fourteen years younger would be fine too.” She even wanted to add that a girl would do as well, but that seemed absurd, so she held back.
Seeing Ming Yuhe’s suspicious look, she explained sincerely: “Truly, if he’s younger, he can look after me in the future. If he’s older, he’ll fall ill sooner, age faster, and die before me…”
Ming Yuhe’s expression froze, his face darkening visibly.
Only then did Luo Xinci realize—he was older than her too! She hurried to amend: “I meant my future husband, not you, elder brother! You’re healthy and strong, you’ll live a long life, outlast me by far…”