Having learned before that the Song family had fallen into misfortune, and that Song Bo had lost a leg amid the chaos of that time, Su Fuying had never known the full details of what had happened.
Madam Song looked at Su Fuying. “Bo’er holds such a position—there are countless dangers he cannot foresee. He simply does not wish you to be harmed or to face peril yourself.”
“That ambush… it must have been a terrible shock to you.”
Su Fuying offered a faint smile and said nothing. It seemed that Song Bo had not told Madam Song the full story of what had truly transpired that day.
Madam Song let out a long, soft sigh.
“Bo’er does not understand matters of the heart. I do not know what he has told you, but whatever you may feel, you have my support.”
After seeing Madam Song off, Su Fuying looked at the table piled with gifts, and her spirits lifted a little. Both women spoke with genuine intent, yet each had her own considerations. It was clear to her that Madam Song hoped to see this marriage come to pass. But she would not simply make up with Song Bo on the strength of a few words from her.
He who tied the bell must unbind it. As far as Su Fuying was concerned, her stance remained unchanged: she would wait for Song Bo to come to her and make his intentions clear.
After tidying herself simply, Su Fuying gathered all her money and headed for the stock exchange. It had only recently been established. In her past life, while preparing for her examinations, she had studied this very subject—going so far as to research the rise and fall of every stock traded since the exchange first opened. She knew that one particular stock was due to see a sharp surge in price soon. Even with her limited funds, she stood to earn a substantial profit.
Tong Da and Pang Wen were still keeping watch near the Su residence. Spotting Su Fuying leaving, they immediately fell into escort. Though relations between herself and Song Bo were strained, she was not one to turn down convenience when it was offered—there was no sense in courting trouble for herself. Tong Da and Pang Wen waited for her right outside the exchange.
Resting an arm against the carriage window, Tong Da gazed up at the imposing building in confusion. “What could Miss Su possibly want here?”
“Should we report this to the Young Marshal?”
Meanwhile, Song Bo sat in his office, reviewing the service records of soldiers discharged over the past two years. Several members of the Administration Department stood rigidly before his desk, tense and apprehensive.
Song Bo closed the files. “Return to your posts and contact every person marked on these lists. I want it done as quickly as possible.”
Ever since the ambush that had nearly taken the Young Marshal’s life, the entire Governor’s Headquarters had been shrouded in a heavy, somber atmosphere. Though none could guess what he intended, the officials nodded in unison, eager to assure him of their compliance and hoping his wrath would not fall upon them. They filed out in orderly silence.
Yu Sui entered shortly after they left.
“Young Marshal, a telegram from Xincheng.”
Song Bo took it, read it carefully, and tossed the paper back onto his desk.
“Unregistered firearms… soldiers vanishing without a trace.” He spoke low and cold. “The waters in Xincheng run far deeper than any of us imagined.”
Yu Sui added, “Word has it that tensions are rising again between the Northern and Western Factions. The Northern Faction has deployed thousands of troops to Suning County, digging in to hold their ground.”
Song Bo stood up and studied the map hanging on the wall. “The Western Factions have always been reckless and ruthless. The Northern Faction’s decision to fortify and hold their position is little more than drawing a circle and trapping themselves within it.” His gaze shifted lower, narrowing slightly. “Have the reinforcements dispatched from Xining and Hengsha reached Qingyang yet?”
“Telegraphs received this morning confirm they have all arrived in Qingyang, traveling by separate routes.”
Song Bo stood with hands clasped behind his back, gazing out the window as he murmured, “Everything is in place. We await only the right moment.”
This was Su Fuying’s first visit to the stock exchange. Inside, it was even more bustling than it appeared from without. The hall rang with voices and shouts; here, thousands of silver dollars seemed like paltry sums. She approached the service desk and stated that she wished to open an account. A clerk then led her into a private reception room, where she submitted her identification, completed risk assessments, and signed the required agreements.
By the time she stepped back outside, it was nearly noon. No sooner had she left the building than she nearly collided with Geng Xingjin, who was hurrying past.
“My apologies!” Geng Xingjin looked up, startled, and recognized her at once. “Fuying? What are you doing here?”
“I merely came to see what all the fuss is about,” Su Fuying replied. “And you? You seem in such a great hurry.”
Geng Xingjin looked sheepish. “I’ve been following the market closely. I heard the stock I invested in has dropped, so I came straight over to check.”
Su Fuying raised an eyebrow. “I heard quite a few people inside speaking of declines in textile shares. Is that what you bought?”
At the confirmation, Geng Xingjin’s brow furrowed deeply. “Yes.”
Ever since the textile industry had begun to boom, shares in that sector had soared in popularity. Many had borrowed heavily to invest, fully expecting to reap vast fortunes—never realizing that textile stocks had become drastically overvalued. Some families would lose everything they owned because of it. That, however, was still in the future. As things stood, the market had only just begun to turn unstable. Su Fuying knew that after this dip, prices would rally briefly one last time before collapsing entirely.
And that was exactly what she had bought—textile shares, purchased while prices were low, ready to sell at their peak.
“Is it not possible textile shares might rise again?” she asked calmly. “I noticed many people selling off everything they own today. Surely selling low after buying high is no way to turn a profit. I should wait and see how things develop first.”
Geng Xingjin nodded, speaking with the confidence of one well-versed in such matters. Su Fuying said no more on the subject, bade him farewell, and returned to her carriage, where Tong Da and Pang Wen escorted her home.
After a simple midday meal, she spent the rest of the day in her room studying market trends. Fortunately, what she had learned in her past life made the work familiar and far from tedious.
The day of Madam Sun’s banquet arrived soon enough. Su Fuying dressed and groomed with great care. She knew full well that many were waiting to see her there. She had heard Su Qingwan had also received an invitation—though she had scarcely seen her these past few days. Su Qingwan had been leaving early each morning and returning late at night, while Su Fuying herself had remained in her room, taking all her meals there.
Su Fuying arrived at the residence right as the banquet was due to begin. By then, most other guests had already entered, leaving her carriage alone at the entrance. She stepped down, handbag in hand, and walked through the gates.
Music drifted from the great hall, where couples already swirled across the dance floor. In the reception rooms nearby sat military commanders and government officials, conversing in groups. As Su Fuying entered, she drew more than a few eyes. Though many found her face strikingly beautiful, few could quite place where they had seen her before—hardly anyone realized this was the very Su Fuying whom everyone had been so eager to meet: the Young Marshal’s fiancée.
It was not until Madam Sun hurried over to greet her personally that the room understood who she was. Recognition dawned—this was the woman whose photograph had appeared so vaguely in the newspapers. Seeing her in person, all agreed, was far more breathtaking.
Madam Sun had been watching the entrance anxiously. By now she had half-convinced herself that Su Fuying would not come at all—and had already begun mentally drafting what she might whisper to her husband later that evening.
“Come, please—do come inside!” Madam Sun exclaimed, stepping forward to take her hand.
Su Fuying smiled, nodded graciously, and walked ahead.
“She grows more beautiful by the day,” the women murmured as she passed. “The Young Marshal is indeed a fortunate man.”
All this Su Fuying accepted with grace and composure. But from where she sat watching in the lounge, Su Qingwan stared, her eyes burning with resentment and envy. Still, she quickly regained her self-control. She watched Su Fuying surrounded by admirers, lifted her wine glass, and took a slow sip to hide the fury in her eyes.
Just as it was before her own wedding day in her past life. She sneered inwardly. Let her smile now. We shall see how merrily she laughs once she is married.
Across the room, Su Fuying’s gaze met Su Qingwan’s—and her smile broadened. Her destiny had already changed for the better. But Su Qingwan… she remained utterly deluded by the false promise the Qin family had dangled before her. The Qin family had given her material comfort, yes—but in standing, influence, and diplomatic standing, they were sorely lacking. To put it plainly: the Qin family simply did not carry the weight they pretended to. That was why so many influential families in Haishi kept them at arm’s length—and yet Su Qingwan remained blind to it all. If only the Qin family were truly worthy of her, she too would be the one being feted and admired tonight.