17 – Fu Qingzi, wait for your grandpa
More than half a month after Yin Zhen had sent someone to deliver the letter, there was still no reply from Fu Qingzi. So he gritted his teeth and wrote another letter: “Fu Qingzi, just you try not replying to this lord’s letter.”
When Fu Qingzi received the letter, she was momentarily stunned. Where did this domineering fellow come from? Immediately, she wrote three large characters on the letter paper: “Understood.”
Fu Qingzi plucked a few hairs from Shaoye and Qianjin and tucked them into the letter, adding a note: “Afraid you might miss them.”
Yin Zhen: “…”
With an incredulous expression, Yin Zhen looked at Su Peisheng. “Just one letter?”
Su Peisheng nodded, sweating with embarrassment, unsure what mischief the mistress was up to.
According to the messenger, the mistress had specifically instructed that the second letter be handed over only when Fourth Master appeared displeased.
Sure enough, Yin Zhen’s face instantly darkened. The letter Su Peisheng held in his palm was slightly dampened by sweat, despite it being the eleventh month.
With sharp eyes, Yin Zhen noticed the corner of the letter clutched in Su Peisheng’s hand. Crossing his arms and resting his chin on them, he said nonchalantly, “A letter from Lady Ula Nara?”
Yin Zhen’s knuckles tapped repeatedly on the letter as his dark eyes fixed on the few large characters written by Fu Qingzi. After waiting nearly a month, all he got were these few words. He couldn’t help but feel a surge of anger—she couldn’t even spare one more word.
Yin Zhen lifted his eyelids slightly and glanced at Su Peisheng before calmly saying, “Leave it on the table and go.”
Only after Su Peisheng had left did Yin Zhen slowly open the letter, feeling somewhat weary—until he saw the character “Fu.”
“Su Peisheng! Get back in here!”
Su Peisheng drooped his ears. Why did the mistress have to cause such trouble… He almost thought he wouldn’t live to see Qiao An again.
Yin Zhen tapped his knuckles on the unopened letter and raised an eyebrow at Su Peisheng, who then repeated the message the mistress had relayed.
Yin Zhen snorted inwardly. If she wanted to see him angry, why not come and watch in person?
Yin Zhen waved his hand, signaling Su Peisheng to leave, before slowly opening the letter.
The content was simple and clear, much like Fu Qingzi’s straightforward nature: “The weather is turning cold, take care of yourself. Come back soon—Qianjin is waiting for you.”
A faint smile tugged at the corner of Yin Zhen’s lips as he carefully put the letter away.
Over the past two months, Fu Qingzi had grown utterly exasperated by Yin Zhen. His letters were filled with trivialities, making it difficult for her to even muster the effort to go through them.
In the mansion, Gege Song and Consort Geng had long been unable to contain themselves, dressed in the most vibrant clothes and wearing the heaviest makeup, while Fu Qingzi appeared rather plain in comparison. She wore a gray-blue qipao with a white cloak, standing out awkwardly among them, appearing especially aloof and unapproachable in the heavy snow, holding the young master curled up in her arms.
Fu Qingzi was nearly unable to stand any longer outside, wishing she could give Yin Zhen a few hits. It was supposed to be at mao hour, but it was already si hour.
Finally, hearing the sounds from outside, Fu Qingzi lifted her gaze—it was Yin Zhen dismounting from his horse.
Yin Zhen strode slowly toward Fu Qingzi, his posture tall and straight. Seeing that Fu Qingzi was not holding an umbrella, his large hand brushed lightly over her shoulder: “In your letter, you said you liked the snow.”
Fu Qingzi lowered her eyes, afraid that Yin Zhen would notice her seemingly unsophisticated demeanor.
Seeing Gege Song and Consort Geng not forgetting to pay their respects, Fu Qingzi then curtsied.
Yin Zhen glanced at the two of them before taking Fu Qingzi’s hand and leading her toward the Main Courtyard.
Gege Song was nearly stomping her feet in frustration, while only Consort Geng remained indifferent—the Furen was helping her, and she was certain she would succeed in serving him for the night.
Fu Qingzi frowned, wanting to break free, but Yin Zhen only tightened his grip. She took a deep breath and stopped struggling.
“A bit cold.”
It took Fu Qingzi a moment to realize that Yin Zhen was referring to her hands being a bit cold.
After returning to the Main Courtyard, Fu Qingzi removed his cloak for him and opened the window to look at the snow outside—a pure white expanse.
Fu Qingzi reached her hand out the window to catch some snowflakes, her eyes unexpectedly filling with a rare childlike innocence. She then let out a soft laugh, allowing the melted snow in her hand to drip slowly from her fingertips onto Yin Zhen’s large palm.
He, too, was unusually cooperative. Fu Qingzi was just being this frivolous, yet she had inadvertently stirred his heart.
Yin Zhen narrowed his eyes slightly, a faint smile curling at the corners of his lips, very much resembling the young master sleeping on the couch: “Fu Qingzi, after months apart, you’ve grown even more skilled at seducing this lord.”
Fu Qingzi looked serious: “…” She didn’t know how to respond—she had merely acted on a whim.
Seeing Yin Zhen’s smug expression, she felt even less inclined to explain…
Fu Qingzi silently took out the more than twenty “lengthy letters” Yin Zhen had written and placed them on the table, her gaze calm and direct as she looked at him.
Yin Zhen gritted his teeth instantly, and upon closer inspection, a blush even spread to the tips of his ears. “Put those away!”
Fu Qingzi silently put the letters away again, letting out a faint hum.
Yin Zhen’s gaze immediately shifted to the young master sleeping soundly on the couch, his dark eyes sharpening. He stood up, walked to the edge of the couch, and lifted the young master by the scruff of its neck.
Fu Qingzi silently took out the letter in which Yin Zhen had promised not to lift the young master by the scruff of its neck next time.
Yin Zhen: “…” The biggest mistake he had made in these past few months was writing letters to Fu Qingzi!
Yin Zhen left the Main Courtyard and quietly played a trick, patting Qianjin’s shiny black forehead and whispering, “Qianjin, bite it for me.” “It” referred to the young master.
Behind Yin Zhen, Fu Qingzi’s lips twitched imperceptibly—did he really think she couldn’t hear him just because he spoke softly?
Feigning displeasure, Fu Qingzi said, “My lord’s words have never been reliable.”
Yin Zhen stiffened slightly, never expecting that Fu Qingzi had followed him out. Had she really overheard what he just said?
As expected, Fu Qingzi’s gaze deepened further, showing no mercy as she said, “You tell me not to bully Qianjin, yet you instruct Qianjin to bully Shaoye.”