The return of Shen Jiarong became the only topic anyone discussed within the capital.
For three days, storytellers filled tea houses with tales of his military victories.
Merchants spoke of him while conducting business.
Noble families eagerly exchanged rumors about the young Duke of Xian.
Everywhere people went, they heard the same name.
Shen Jiarong.
The empire’s undefeated general.
The Emperor’s trusted commander.
The most sought-after bachelor in JInzhou.
Inside Wen Residence, the excitement reached an almost ridiculous level.
Servants rushed through the residence carrying bolts of silk and boxes of jewelry.
Tailors arrived daily.
Hair ornaments were selected and rejected.
Invitations were reviewed repeatedly.
The upcoming Imperial Victory Banquet had become the most important event of the season.
Especially for the noble daughters of the capital and especially for Wen Youru.
“Not this one.” Youru’s brows knitted together in displeasure.
“It’s far too plain.”
A maid immediately removed it.
“What about this one, Miss?”
“No.”
Another hairpin disappeared.
The third lasted only slightly longer.
“No.”
The fourth suffered the same fate.
Across the room, Zhao Meilin pressed her fingers against her temple, a hint of weariness creeping into her expression.
“You’ve rejected twelve hairpins, Youru.”
Youru examined her reflection from every angle, turning her face toward the sunlight streaming through the window.
After a long moment, she sighed.
“They’re all wrong. Too plain, too heavy, too common. I don’t like any of them.”
“They are all worth more than some households earn in a year.”
“They’re still wrong.”
The maidservants remained perfectly still, like statues lining the walls.
No one dared to comment.
No one dared to agree or disagree.
The room had become so quiet that the faint clink of jade against the dressing table sounded unusually loud.
At last, Zhao Meilin rubbed her temple and released a slow breath.
“Youru.”
Yourru turned, sunlight catching the gold embroidery on her sleeves.
“The banquet is important,” she replied.
“Everyone in the capital will be there. I cannot be seen wearing something unremarkable.”
Unlike Qingli, Youru had spent her entire life preparing for moments like this.
She had been raised to attend banquets, social gatherings, and important events.
From a young age, she learned how to speak, how to behave, and how to carry herself in front of nobles and officials.
She knew the proper etiquette, the right topics of conversation, and how to make a good impression on those around her.
She was also familiar with the political side of noble society.
She understood that every introduction, every friendship, and every marriage proposal could affect a family’s standing.
While others saw simple conversations, Youru knew there was often much more beneath the surface.
Most importantly, she knew how to attract attention.
Youru knew which clothes suited her best, which accessories enhanced her beauty, and how to present herself with confidence and grace.
She knew how to enter a room and make people notice her without seeming obvious about it.
Noble society was the world she had been raised for.
And in that world, Youru knew exactly how to shine.
Later that afternoon, the Wen Residence welcomed several daughters of noble families.
The young ladies sat together over tea, their laughter filling the room as they discussed the latest news from the capital.
It did not take long for the conversation to drift toward the upcoming banquet, the most anticipated event of the season.
“Have you heard?”
One of the young ladies leaned forward eagerly, unable to contain her excitement.
“The Duke of Xian is attending the banquet.”
The effect was immediate.
Several of the girls straightened in their seats, while others exchanged knowing glances.
The Duke of Xian’s name was enough to capture the attention of every unmarried noble lady in the capital.
“Of course he is,” another young lady said with a dreamy sigh.
“He only returned to the capital recently.”
“I heard he defeated twenty thousand enemy soldiers during his last campaign.”
The girl beside her scoffed.
“Twenty thousand? That’s impossible.”
“Then perhaps fifteen thousand.”
“That’s still impossible.”
The conversation dissolved into laughter as each retelling became more exaggerated than the last.
Before long, the Duke had somehow single-handedly crushed entire armies and won battles that no ordinary man could have survived.
Youru sat quietly among them, listening to their chatter with a small smile.
The admiration in their voices was hardly surprising.
The Duke of Xian was one of the most celebrated men in the empire.
He was young, powerful, accomplished, and favored by the Emperor himself. Read this novel at g.com for the best experience.
Countless noble families would gladly offer their daughters’ hands in marriage if given the opportunity.
Eventually, the conversation shifted from his military achievements to a far more interesting topic.
“Do you think His Majesty will arrange his marriage soon?”
The room instantly became quieter.
One young lady lowered her gaze, her cheeks turning pink while another smiled shyly as she stirred her tea.
A third pretended to be indifferent, though she listened more carefully than anyone else.
Every unmarried noblewoman in the capital understood the significance of the question.
Because a marriage to the Duke of Xian would bring prestige, influence, and a position envied by countless others.
Youru lifted her teacup gracefully and took a small sip before speaking.
“The Duke of Xian is a man of exceptional status.” Her calm voice immediately drew everyone’s attention.
The other young ladies turned toward her, waiting for her thoughts, and Youru set down her teacup carefully.
“Naturally, the woman who becomes his wife will need more than beauty.”
The statement was delivered politely, but the meaning beneath it was impossible to miss.
A noble marriage was never decided by appearance alone.
Family background mattered.
Status mattered.
Education mattered.
Grace, refinement, reputation, and connections all mattered.
The future Duchess of Xian would need to stand beside one of the empire’s most powerful men.
Such a position required a woman capable of representing both her family and her husband’s household with dignity.
The room fell silent as the young ladies considered her words.
Some looked thoughtful while others looked slightly uncomfortable.
Because everyone understood what Youru was implying.
She was not merely speaking about the Duke’s future wife.
She was reminding them of the qualities that noble society valued most.
And among the daughters of the capital’s noble families, few possessed those qualities to the same degree that she did.
Meanwhile, the western courtyard remained as peaceful as ever.
Far removed from the excitement consuming the rest of the estate.
Qingli knelt beside the medicinal herbs, sunlight filtering through the leaves as she traced their delicate veins with her eyes, studying them with quiet patience and care.
Lan Yue sat cross-legged nearby with a tray of dried flowers resting in her lap.
At least, that was where her attention should have been.
Instead, her gaze wandered repeatedly to Qingli, leaving the flowers unsorted and forgotten in her hands.
Instead, she was talking.
Again.
Endlessly.
Her hands moved only occasionally, but her mouth never seemed to stop.
“Miss.”
“Hm?”
“They say the Duke of Xian is incredibly handsome.”
Qingli smiled, the corners of her lips curving gently.
“You told me that yesterday.”
She carefully placed a dried herb into the tray beside her.
“And the day before.”
Looking up, amusement flickered in her eyes.
“If you continue at this rate, I shall be able to sketch the Duke of Xian from memory despite never having seen him.”
Lan Yue ignored her entirely.
“They say he’s tall.”
Qingli nodded with admirable patience.
“I’m sure he is.”
“And brave.”
“I would certainly hope the Duke of Xian is brave.”
“And kind.”
“That would be a welcome quality.”
“And rich.”
Qingli finally looked up from her tray of herbs.
“Ah.”
Lan Yue blinked innocently.
“Ah?”
“There it is,” Qingli said, unable to suppress a laugh.
“The true reason for your interest.”
“What can I say?” Lan Yue declared shamelessly.
“A handsome man is a blessing. A rich handsome man is a greater blessing.”
Qingli shook her head, laughter dancing in her eyes.
“Your honesty is both refreshing and alarming.”
Lan Yue grinned.
“You love me anyway.”
“Unfortunately, I do.”
The grin on Lan Yue’s face only widened.
The maid tossed another flower into the basket.
“Imagine marrying someone wealthy.”
“I’d rather have peace.”
The answer came immediately.
Without the slightest hesitation.
Lan Yue paused before breaking into laughter.
Qingli smiled and returned her attention to the herbs spread across the table.
Peace.
That was all she had truly wanted.
Not status.
Not power.
Not admiration.
Those were things other people chased.
Things they fought over, sacrificed for, and sometimes destroyed themselves to obtain.
Qingli had never understood the appeal.
She wanted a quiet home tucked away from the noise of the world.
A small courtyard filled with herbs and flowers.
Mornings spent tending plants beneath the sun and evenings shared with people she loved.
She wanted the freedom to practice medicine, to help those who were suffering, and to sleep each night knowing no one wished her harm.
Nothing grand.
Nothing extraordinary.
Just a life where she could wake each morning without fear and rest each night with a peaceful heart.
To others, such a wish might have seemed simple.
To Qingli, it felt impossibly precious.
As the afternoon wore on, Qingli carefully sorted the dried herbs spread across the table, separating leaves from roots and stems with practiced precision.
Gradually, a small crease formed between her brows.
Several of her medicinal herbs were running dangerously low.
She paused and examined the remaining bundles.
Some contained only enough for a few more remedies, while other containers held barely enough.
The sight troubled her more than she cared to admit.
Her small courtyard garden could provide only so much.
Qingli let out a quiet sigh as she set aside the last bundle.
Without these ingredients, her ability to prepare medicines would be severely limited.
The realization settled heavily in Qingli’s chest.
More heavily than it should have.
Many of the servants within the estate still came to her in secret when they were ill or injured.
A feverish child.
An elderly groundskeeper with aching joints.
A kitchen maid burned by hot oil.
They slipped quietly through her courtyard gate seeking help they could not afford elsewhere.
And Qingli had never turned them away.
But medicine could not be made from empty jars.
Her gaze lingered on the shelves lining the wall.
One by one, she lifted the containers and inspected their contents.
Foxglove.
Only a handful of dried leaves remained.
Angelica root.
Barely enough for a few prescriptions.
Wild chrysanthemum.
The bottom of the jar was visible through the scattered petals.
Several of her most important herbs were running low.
Dangerously low.
For a moment, the courtyard felt unusually quiet.
Qingli carefully returned each container to its place, her fingers lingering against the worn wood.
Lan Yue noticed the change in her expression immediately.
“What’s wrong?”
Qingli gestured toward the shelves.
“We’re almost out.”
Lan Yue followed her gaze.
The smile slipped from her face.
“Oh.”
Silence settled between them.
Neither woman needed further explanation.
They both understood exactly what that meant.
That evening, long after sunset, Qingli stood beside the western courtyard wall.
A gentle spring breeze brushed against her face, and somewhere beyond those walls, the world continued moving.
People traveled.
Markets bustled.
Children played.
The forests bloomed with medicinal plants she desperately needed, and for the first time in many months, a dangerous thought entered her mind.
A thought she immediately tried to dismiss…yet it refused to leave.
The gates were locked.
But the walls…the walls were another matter entirely.
Behind her, the apricot blossoms swayed softly in the moonlight, and ahead of her, fate waited patiently.
And far away, inside the Imperial Palace, Shen Jiarong unknowingly prepared for the same banquet that House Wen eagerly anticipated.
Neither knew it.
But their paths were beginning to move toward one another.
One small step at a time.