“Hiss… Heir Gu, please, be gentle…”
Garments were strewn across the floor. Through the blue-green lotus-patterned bedcurtains, the candlelight cast hazy silhouettes of two figures entwined.
A woman’s jet-black hair spilled over the edge of the bed. Her slender arm reached out from within the canopy, fingers trembling and curling slightly.
A soft, low whimper drifted like a feather into the intoxicating night, only to be promptly swallowed by the darkness.
“Does it hurt that much?”
The man leaned down. Beads of sweat clung to the stray strands of hair on his brow, dripping down beside her ear. His voice was low, raspy, and terribly provocative.
“Mm.”
Mist filled her eyes as she nodded.
Then, immediately, she shook her head.
Frowning, with the corners of her eyes flushed red, she gazed blankly at the man before her.
His deep, unfathomable eyes and jade-like visage were peerlessly handsome amid the swirling shadows and light.
Tonight was Jiang Fuqu’s first time. It hurt terribly.
Yet, because she was giving herself to Gu Yujing—the man she had loved for three years—the pain faded.
Her heart held nothing but pure joy.
“Heh.”
The man chuckled softly. After a moment of tenderness came another fierce deluge of rain and wind.
Outside the window, rain battered the plantain leaves, pattering throughout the entire night.
Inside, the room was filled with lingering fragrance, and fresh water was called for four separate times.
Jiang Fuqu leaned into Gu Yujing’s embrace, limp with exhaustion yet lingering in tenderness.
From this day forth, he would be her husband.
…
That very night, news that Gu Yujing—the Heir of the Marquis of Wu’an, the Third Young Master of the Gu clan, an extraordinarily handsome and wealthy young lord—had been bedded by a rustic, dark-skinned village girl named Jiang Fuqu spread like wildfire through the Bai Manor.
The reason people framed it as Jiang Fuqu bedding Gu Yujing was because everyone knew she was infatuated with the Marquis’s Heir.
Gu Yujing, on the other hand, had seemingly never reciprocated.
Who could have imagined that the two would actually consummate their relationship?
The next day, the sun was already high in the sky.
Jiang Fuqu was still resting within the lotus-patterned bedcurtains when—bang!
The chamber door was kicked wide open. A flood of harsh sunlight rushed in, dazzling and stinging her eyes.
She turned her head and opened her eyes. Gu Yujing was no longer beside her; instead, a beautiful, mature noblewoman was sizing her up with a frigid gaze.
Those eyes bore an uncanny resemblance to Gu Yujing’s.
“Madam, you are…?”
Jiang Fuqu moved to sit up, only to realize she was stark naked. The quilt slipped down to her shoulders, exposing the purplish-blue bruises beneath.
In a fluster, she snatched the clothes resting by the headboard and draped them over herself.
Her entire body ached as though crushed beneath carriage wheels, the sharp soreness forcing a sharp intake of breath through her teeth.
“What a profoundly calculating wild girl.”
A look of contempt crossed the beautiful woman’s face. Flicking back her cloak, she seated herself upon a chair. “I am Gu Yujing’s mother, the Marchioness of Wu’an.”
Ah.
So, this was Gu Yujing’s heartless mother.
Three years ago, Gu Yujing had been poisoned, his hands crippled. The Marchioness had washed her hands of him, sending him back to Jiangzhou to stay with the maternal Bai family.
In all those three years, she had not visited him once.
Three years later, through her own devoted care and treatment, his hands were fully healed. And just yesterday, he had claimed the title of Jieyuan. Yet only now did this mother finally show up.
At this thought, the slight warmth on Jiang Fuqu’s face faded. She greeted her coolly, “Marchioness.”
“You spent three whole years clinging to my son under the guise of being his physician, all just to wait for the chance to climb into his bed yesterday, did you not?”
The Marchioness’s tone dripped with utter disdain. “My son already has an intended fiancée. A girl of your lowly standing is entirely unworthy of him. I shall give you one thousand taels of gold as your recompense. You will leave him.”
With that, an older maidservant behind her carried forth a large chest and swung it open.
The dazzling, golden gleam stung Jiang Fuqu’s eyes.
Yet she did not avert her gaze. Instead, she looked up squarely at the Marchioness, her voice neither loud nor soft, but every word razor-sharp:
“Three years ago, when the Heir was poisoned and his hands crippled, you cast him aside to Jiangzhou with a single word. Over those three years, you never sent so much as a single letter, nor visited a single time. Now, after I brewed his medicine, massaged his limbs day after day, and eased the knots in his heart—not only restoring his hands, but seeing him win the title of Jieyuan just yesterday—you show up with gold to demand I leave. Are you not simply slaughtering the donkey the moment it finishes grinding the grain, Madam?”
The contempt on the Marchioness’s face froze for an instant. She clearly had not expected this rustic girl to prick her sore spot so bluntly. Immediately, she sneered, “Sharp-tongued wench! Even if my son owes you a debt of care, his spring night of passion with you yesterday has long paid off that favor! It was merely because he had stayed away from women for so long that he deigned to bestow his grace upon you! If you stubbornly insist on clinging to him, you could at most become an unacknowledged mistress kept outside the manor.”
Jiang Fuqu paused, her gaze sweeping over the chest of gold. “I was indeed born a village girl, and my station cannot compare to the Heir’s nobility. But if you want me to leave, the Heir must come and tell me so himself. Let him say that yesterday’s passion was merely a drunken mistake; let him say that he now only wishes to marry his intended fiancée and wants Jiang Fuqu no longer. If he can say those words to my face, I will leave immediately.”
Jiang Fuqu stared intently.
In truth, she was not certain.
Gu Yujing was an aloof, unattainable flower on a high peak—handsome and cold;
She, on the other hand, was merely a dark-skinned village girl.
Over these three years, even when he was broken and injured, she had always been the one looking up at him.
The reason she and Gu Yujing had tumbled into bed was due to wine.
Yesterday, the results of Jiangzhou Prefecture’s autumn provincial examinations were posted, and Gu Yujing had emerged at the very top of the list. Both of them were overjoyed.
To celebrate, she had cooked personally and fetched wine from the tavern.
After several rounds of drinking, although Jiang Fuqu was slightly tipsy, she had not crossed any lines;
It was Gu Yujing, usually so detached and devoid of worldly desires, who had taken the initiative to pull her into his arms.
The two of them had spent the night lost in passion.
“The fact that I am willing to offer this much gold today is already more than generous,” the Marchioness said, dusting off her robes. “The gold stays here. You had best consider it carefully.”
With that, she stood and took her leave.
Panic fluttered in Jiang Fuqu’s chest.
Recalling the sweetness of the previous night, she thought to herself: He was the one who initiated it. Deep down, he must harbor feelings for me.
Jiang Fuqu dressed herself, carefully applying rouge and powder for the very first time, and walked over to the large tree beside Gu Yujing’s courtyard.
There, she caught sight of a woman dressed in a magnificent bridal coronet and ceremonial robe, standing in the courtyard right beside Gu Yujing.
“Yujing, I’ve come for you.”
The woman’s voice was gentle and filled with grievance, melodious like an oriole—pleasing to the ear, yet terribly pitiful.
From Jiang Fuqu’s vantage point, she could not see the woman’s face, only her slender, graceful silhouette.
It was undeniably the figure of a great beauty.
“During these three years since you left the capital, I thought of you every waking moment. But my family kept me under strict watch, and I couldn’t come to Jiangzhou.
“Father forced me to be betrothed to another, demanding that I marry today. For your sake, I refused, and fled the capital yesterday.
“Will you… will you marry me?”
Bold, forward, throwing herself into his arms.
Hidden behind the tree, Jiang Fuqu clenched her embroidered handkerchief tightly.
Gu Yujing’s gaze darkened.
The wind rustled through the leaves; the courtyard fell dead silent.
“Yujing, I am your intended fiancée. Why won’t you answer me? Are you blaming me? Or is it… because of that ‘Physician Jiang’ the servants in the manor keep whispering about?”
Receiving no response, the woman spoke with a weeping edge to her voice, her shoulders trembling.
She had arrived at the Bai Manor only to hear that Gu Yujing had kept another woman by his side for these past three years.
After a long pause, Jiang Fuqu heard the most heartbreaking response of her life.
“How could that be? She lacks your fair complexion and your beauty. It was merely a trifling diversion born of drunken boredom, nothing fit for the light of day. Why take it to heart? In a few days, I shall return to the capital with you.”
Gu Yujing’s cold, indifferent voice was not loud, yet it pierced clean through the thin courtyard wall, stabbing violently into her ears.
Leaning against the tree trunk, Jiang Fuqu’s face was bathed in tears.
They washed away her freshly applied rouge.
Gu Yujing’s denial was like a sharp blade, gouging a bloody, gaping wound into her chest.
Even breathing brought agony.
What was so wrong with having slightly darker skin?
Did having darker skin mean she was meant to be toyed with and cast aside? Her skin was merely a shade deeper.
And this so-called intended fiancée—heh.
When he was on the brink of death from illness and injury, she had never once shown her face.
Throughout these three years, the person by his side had been Jiang Fuqu.
The person who had helped his hands hold a brush firmly once more was also Jiang Fuqu.
Without her, how could he have ever stepped back onto the imperial examination grounds?
Could he truly not see a single shred of her devotion?
He had taken her body, yet claimed she was unfit for the light of day, something shameful to be kept hidden.
Did he truly love that intended fiancée so much?
How utterly laughable.
Last night, amid the hazy, decadent darkness, she had thought her love had finally borne fruit.
Today, under the bright, clear sky, the hopes she had just ignited were instantly ground into ash.
If she stayed by his side, she would never be anything more than an unacknowledged mistress hidden in the shadows.
This one-sided pursuit, this unequal and extravagant fantasy—it was time to bring it to an end.
Jiang Fuqu could not remember how she stumbled away, her soul seemingly torn from her body.
That very night, leaving behind a letter severing all ties, she fled.
She vanished entirely from Gu Yujing’s world.