Li Wuyang’s expression remained indifferent. “You’ve chosen a cripple as your master. You’ve picked the wrong man—I can do nothing.”
Yun Zheng’s gaze fell on his legs. To deny the obvious with closed eyes—was that really wise? “You can help me destroy the Pingxi household.”
Li Wuyang was taken aback. She wasn’t asking him to eliminate her romantic rival? She wasn’t hoping to live in harmony with the heir?
“Marquis Pingxi can only be replaced, not destroyed.”
Yun Zheng froze. “Uh… why?”
Li Wuyang sat by the window, his demeanor cold as snow. “The founding emperor once promised that the Pingxi household would share the nation’s fate. Moreover, the marquisate holds an iron-clad pardon decree.”
Yun Zheng’s eyes widened. “Share the nation’s fate? An iron decree of immunity? How have I never heard of this?”
These were life-saving talismans. What kind of unparalleled merit had the first Marquis Pingxi achieved? The problem was—she had been confined in the marquisate for ten years, yet never learned of this. Was that normal?
As the master of the Mingjing Bureau, Li Wuyang knew countless secrets.
“There’s much you don’t know.”
Yun Zheng fell silent. This was the class gap—the difference in access to information.
Li Wuyang watched her shifting expressions, like a painter’s palette, and found it amusing. “Do you still want to destroy the marquisate?”
Bitterness welled in Yun Zheng’s heart. Her enemy was too powerful. Yet it only stoked her fighting spirit. Even if it cost her life, she dared to drag the emperor down with her. “Yes! I want them all gone!”
Li Wuyang’s eyes darkened. “To knowingly attempt the impossible—that is foolish.”
Yun Zheng lifted her chin, her face resolute. “Though thousands stand against me, I will go. Even if it means death nine times over, I will not regret it. I beg Your Highness to aid me.”
Even if it meant defying heaven itself, she would fight for her chance.
Li Wuyang fixed his gaze on her. There was a desperate courage about her, the kind born of staking everything on a single throw. After a long silence, he said, “The thing I despise most is betrayal.”
Yun Zheng answered without hesitation: “The lord does not doubt, the vassal does not abandon.”
A clever little fox—she set conditions first, rather than pledging blind loyalty. She called herself a vassal, not a servant—all subtle calculation.
Yet the words suited Li Wuyang’s taste. Loyalty was never eternal; it only mattered whether it was worth keeping.
“Don’t forget what you said tonight. Otherwise…” His brow arched, his tone icy to the extreme. “Your family will be executed and your estate confiscated.”
That was as good as accepting her allegiance. Relief surged in Yun Zheng’s heart, and she solemnly bowed deeply.
The Yun family had to choose a patron. Whoever they chose, it was still a choice.
By rights, the best option was the emperor himself. But first, it was nearly impossible to get close. Second, the emperor was deeply suspicious and hard to serve. Third, for reasons unknown, his suppression of women was far harsher than in the previous dynasty. Even with all her talents, the king would only scorn her as unruly. So why not pledge herself to Lord Qiansui? His position was lofty, his power immense. Swear loyalty—or cling to his thigh? Either way, it worked.
Li Wuyang lifted his hand, and Yun Zheng rose. Her eyes flickered. “You’re injured? I have excellent medicine. Would you like it?”
Her nose was sharp; standing this close, she had already caught the scent of blood. It was another way of showing goodwill. Her senses were keen—truly useful.
Li Wuyang had to admit, she was full of schemes. But she was clever, and knew her limits. His arm was wounded, blood seeping through.
Watching him clumsily tend the injury with one hand, Yun Zheng sighed silently and stepped forward. “Allow me.”
She carefully dressed the wound, eyes steady, movements proper, never crossing the line.
Li Wuyang’s lips curved faintly. She was sensible enough. “In a few days, I’ll send you a martial maid.”
Yun Zheng’s spirit leaped. She truly lacked a maid skilled in martial arts. “Thank you, Lord.”
He actually defended her! It seemed she had chosen the right thigh to cling to.
At dawn, Yun Zheng was woken up, groggy and exhausted, her eyes barely able to open.
Chunhua attended to her, helping her wash and dress. “Miss, did you not sleep well last night?”
Yun Zheng had been restless, tossing and turning half the night. Just as she finally drifted off, she was awakened. “Did you hear any strange noises last night?”
Chunhua slept in the outer room. Normally, the sounds from the inner chamber wouldn’t escape her ears.
But Chunhua looked puzzled. “No, I slept straight through until morning.”
Yun Zheng studied her closely, realizing she wasn’t lying. Her doubts deepened, but she said nothing. After breakfast, she hurried to the main hall.
The hall was already packed with people, all vying for the first stick of incense. Yun Zheng didn’t push forward but stayed in a corner, scanning the crowd. Sure enough, she spotted two familiar figures.
Ye Yizhen wore plain robes and a veil, ethereal and delicate, leaning bonelessly against Jiang Wenzhou’s chest. “Brother Jiang, will we be able to get the first incense? I want to pray that the Bodhisattva blesses us to grow old together, never parting.”
Jiang Wenzhou gazed at her tenderly. “We certainly will.” He had already sent servants with the Pingxi household token to secure a spot. Before long, the servants returned, faces troubled. “Master, the monks demand one thousand taels of silver.”
Jiang Wenzhou’s expression darkened. “Our marquisate token is useless?”
The servant spoke cautiously. “It works, but the monks said others offered five thousand taels. Out of respect for our manor, they only ask one thousand.”
After all, monks had to eat too. Even royalty paid incense offerings at temples. Why should a marquisate be exempt?
Besides, Huangjue Temple had already shown them face—their token saved them four thousand taels. That favor would need repaying someday.
Jiang Wenzhou’s face soured. Money, money—always about money!
Ye Yizhen bit her lip, considerate as ever. “Perhaps we should let it go. The manor spent heavily on the wedding. Let’s wait for now.”
She knew the manor was poor, but hadn’t expected they couldn’t even spare a thousand taels.
Jiang Wenzhou, unwilling to lose face before his beloved, declared, “For you, any expense is worth it. A mere thousand taels—it’s not much.”
He patted his pocket. Only five hundred taels remained—his last private stash. He turned to his men. “I didn’t bring enough today. You all pitch in, and I’ll repay you later.”
The servants exchanged uneasy glances.
Yun Zheng saw it all and couldn’t help but laugh. Poor, stingy, yet obsessed with appearances.
No wonder Pingxi household fell so quickly.
Jiang Wenzhou and Ye Yizhen together offered the first stick of incense before stepping back. Since they were already there, they strolled around the temple grounds to relax.
Walking side by side, Ye Yizhen wore a worried expression. “Sister-in-law didn’t return home last night. Who knows what happened to her? It’s truly concerning.”
What they thought was a clever woman turned out to be a fool. On the second day of her marriage, she stayed out overnight, leaving behind such a glaring scandal—a woman courting death.
Jiang Wenzhou’s face darkened. “That adulterous, restless woman—I must have been cursed for eight lifetimes to marry her. This time, the Yun family must give our marquisate an explanation.”
And what explanation? Compensation, of course. The dowry couldn’t be touched yet, but the Yun family still had businesses and silver.
The two chatted happily, unaware that Yun Zheng was silently tailing them, poised to strike when the moment came. She had no choice. She only knew Ye Yizhen would encounter a fateful opportunity, but not where the boy was. So she could only shadow Ye Yizhen and act when the chance arose.
What Yun Zheng didn’t realize was that Li Wuyang, hidden among the trees, was watching her back with a faint frown. Though she had disguised herself in men’s clothing, he recognized her instantly. Her eyes were too distinctive—clean, yet carrying a streak of defiance. Sneaking about—what was she up to?
Just then, a figure shot forward like an arrow, colliding head-on with Ye Yizhen. She lost her footing and fell heavily to the ground.
“Ah!” A sharp cry rang out.
Yun Zheng’s spirit jolted. It was happening—it had begun!