Shen Miao softly hummed in acknowledgment, the chill in her eyes fading slightly, replaced by a sense of steadiness.
With Zhao Chengyu here, in the land of Jiangnan, she could sleep soundly, stand firm, and confidently lay out her plans.
In the following days, Jiangnan remained calm and uneventful.
Xiao Jingyuan’s men dared not act recklessly, Su Manrou, having suffered a heavy loss, had completely quieted down, merchants increasingly attached themselves to Shen Gongzi, and the reputation of Nianqing Ge spread throughout the six prefectures of Jiangnan.
The grain and cotton markets were firmly under control, the Water Transport Guild’s waterways flowed unimpeded, granaries were full, and shops stood in rows.
Shen Miao had truly established her footing in Jiangnan.
…
Three months later.
It was late spring in Jiangnan, with misty rain veiling the scenery and willow green filling the city.
In the backyard of Nianqing Ge, Shen Miao wore a light cyan casual outfit, no longer deliberately dressing in a masculine manner. Her long hair was loosely tied up, her eyes and brows clear and gentle, with less sharpness and more softness.
Zhao Chengyu strode in, carrying a box of freshly baked pastries, placed it on the stone table with a swagger, and sat down with a roguish air. “Brought you the new flavors from Xinghua Lou. Try them.”
Shen Miao looked up at him, her tone natural and familiar. “How are this month’s accounts?”
Zhao Chengyu grinned broadly. “Made a hefty profit. Most of Jiangnan’s grain, cotton, and caoyun are now in our hands.”
“The people Xiao Jingyuan left in the capital are still stubbornly investigating your background, but our people have completely confused them—they haven’t uncovered anything real.”
Shen Miao nodded faintly, her fingertips lightly brushing the rim of her cup.
These few months had been enough for her to plant deep roots in Jiangnan.
Enough for her to bury her hatred deeper and build her confidence stronger.
Zhao Chengyu watched her quiet profile and suddenly leaned closer, lowering his voice with a roguish seriousness. “Xiao Jingyuan won’t stay quiet in the capital for long.”
“He’ll come back sooner or later.”
Shen Miao looked up, her eyes calm and unruffled, yet hiding a sharpness tempered by ice.
“I know.”
“Let him come.”
“This time, I won’t give him any chance.”
Zhao Chengyu chuckled, reaching out to lightly tap her forehead. “With me here, he’ll find it hard to even get within three feet of you.”
“Hah…” Shen Miao nodded in rare agreement, a faint smile flickering in her eyes. “You’re right.”
Seeing her unusually relaxed, Zhao Chengyu leisurely took out a gilded-edged invitation from his sleeve, twirled it with his fingertips, and slid it toward her, his tone tinged with amusement. “Perfect timing. There’s something I need to tell you.”
Shen Miao glanced down. The gilded patterns were exquisite, stamped with the imperial insignia, clearly indicating its extraordinary origin.
“What is this?”
“From the capital.” Zhao Chengyu leaned back in his chair, casually crossing his long legs, looking both roguishly handsome and relaxed. “The Emperor has been implementing commendations and appeasement policies over the past two years.”
“In Jiangnan these past six months, caoyun has flowed smoothly, grain prices have stabilized, and merchants have rallied. You, the mysterious Shen Gongzi, have already made a name for yourself in the palace.”
He paused, tapping the invitation lightly with his fingertip. “For this year’s palace banquet, merchants from Jiangnan with achievements and contributions have been summoned to the capital to attend.”
“You are the first one named.”
Shen Miao’s gaze paused briefly, her fingertips gently rubbing the edge of the invitation.
Going to the capital…
Attending the banquet…
Wasn’t that the perfect opportunity for her and Xiao Jingyuan to meet again?
Zhao Chengyu looked at her and chuckled softly. “I’m also on the list. The Water Transport Guild has protected the canals and ensured safe travel for merchants, which has long been within the Emperor’s sight. I received an invitation too.”
“In other words—” He lifted his gaze, his eyes bright with a smile, carrying certainty and companionship. “I will accompany you on this trip to the capital.”
Shen Miao felt a warmth in her heart as she looked at him, nodding slowly. “Alright.”
“Let’s go to the capital.”
She spoke softly, her voice cool yet resolute.
…
The capital.
In the most elegant private room atop the Drunken Immortal Pavilion.
Shen Miao removed her mask, and the bronze mirror reflected a face of breathtaking beauty.
It was a stark contrast to the pale and haggard Marquise of just a few months ago.
Her brows arched like distant mountains, her eyes shone like cold stars, and the faint, almost mocking curve at the corner of her lips was enough to drive any man to madness.
Mu Jin brought over hot tea, her eyes brimming with joy. “Young Master, everything has been arranged as you instructed.”
Mu Jin was a shadow guard raised by Zhao Chengyu.
Now, Zhao Chengyu had assigned her to Shen Miao’s side as a protector.
She could ensure safety and also serve closely.
“Mmm.” Shen Miao lightly tapped the table with her fingertips, listening to the storyteller downstairs slapping his wooden clapper and eloquently recounting the recent happenings in the capital.
“If we’re talking about the most eventful place in the capital these past three months, it has to be the Jing’an Marquisate.”
“The former Marquise ‘accidentally’ drowned, her body lost without a trace, and in the blink of an eye, the Marquis was preparing to elevate that Miss Su to the position of his official wife, marrying her with great fanfare.”
“Who would have thought that on their wedding night, the Marquis’s treasury inexplicably caught fire and burned to the ground!”
A wave of astonishment swept through the crowd downstairs.
“Even more bizarre, the very next morning, the Censorate received a secret report accusing Jing’an Hou of embezzling military funds and colluding with border forces—each accusation backed by solid evidence!”
“His Majesty was furious, immediately stripping the Marquis of half his military authority and docking his salary for three years!”
“Nowadays, Jing’an Hou has shut himself away, his prestige utterly shattered!”
Mu Jin listened with satisfaction, unable to hold back a soft chuckle. “Young Master, that fire was truly well-timed.”
Shen Miao picked up her teacup, took a small sip, and a faint, cold smile curled at the corner of her lips. “It’s merely collecting a bit of interest.”
What she wanted was never just a temporary setback.
She wanted Xiao Jingyuan to fall hard from the clouds, to taste every bit of the suffering she had endured.
She wanted him disgraced and left with nothing.
She wanted him to realize, at his most desperate moment—
That the official wife he had discarded like worthless trash was someone he could never hope to reach in this lifetime.
Mu Jin suddenly remembered something and whispered, “Miss, Su Manrou ordered a set of gold and kingfisher feather hair ornaments at the Treasure Pavilion today. She said she would attend the palace banquet three days from now as the new lady of the Marquis’s Mansion.”
Shen Miao set down her teacup, a cold glint flashing in her eyes.
If they were so eager to make a grand appearance, then she would personally go and deliver them a “grand gift.”
“Prepare an outfit for me.” She rose and walked to the window, gazing at the bustling prosperity of Jiangnan stretching for miles. Her voice was gentle but carried an undeniable authority.
“It must be the most vibrant red, the most dazzling style.”
“I want everyone in the capital to see—”
“I want Xiao Jingyuan to understand what it means—”
“to be beyond his reach.”
Mu Jin felt a tremor in her heart and bowed in response. “Yes, Miss.”
Outside the window, the breeze was light, and the clouds were serene.
Inside the room, the phoenix had already been reborn from the ashes, waiting only to soar into the sky and turn the world upside down.
…
Autumn arrived in the capital, bringing crisp golden winds. The glazed tiles of the Forbidden City shimmered under the sunlight, radiant and dazzling.
The Thousand Autumns Banquet was held in the Ninghua Hall of the Imperial Garden. Outside the hall, osmanthus blossoms filled the air with fragrance, and cranes held branches in their beaks.
Civil and military officials entered with their families in turn, adorned with pearls and jade, dressed in brocade and finery—a scene of prosperous splendor.
At three in the afternoon, the sound of slow-moving carriages and horses came from outside the palace.
An unassuming yet elegantly refined blue-curtained carriage stopped at the side gate of the imperial palace. The curtain was gently lifted, and a woman dressed in a crimson gown woven with golden cloud patterns stepped down unhurriedly.
She wore no elaborate head ornaments, only a single, lustrous mutton-fat jade hairpin holding up her raven-black hair. Two stray strands fell beside her temples, accentuating her snow-white complexion and painting-like brows and eyes.