Under the covered walkway not far away, several young masters in fine brocade robes were gathered together.
“Brother Lu.”
A man in an indigo blue robe pointed his fan toward Zong Zhengheng in the distance:
“Is that the man Miss Qiao the Second snatched and brought back to her residence?”
Lu Wenzhou followed his gaze:
“Hah, he was following Miss Qiao the Second the whole time when they came in, so probably yes. But… wearing a mask, is he too ugly to show his face?”
“Miss Qiao the Second has no shame, snatching a man and bringing him home. This matter has spread throughout Jinzhou, what is there left to hide?”
The others exchanged glances but did not respond.
Lu Wenzhou, unaware, continued on his own:
“Back when I sought her hand in marriage, she actually mocked my appearance in front of everyone—”
He gritted his teeth, “So what if Qiao Shuyi is beautiful? So what if her family has power and influence? With that temperament of hers, which respectable young master would be willing to marry her?”
“In the end, she could only snatch some lowborn commoner and bring him home, needlessly tarnishing the reputation of the Prince of Jin’an.”
The others listened, nodding in agreement on the surface, but inwardly they couldn’t help but think:
Would Young Master Lu dare say these words in front of Miss Qiao the Second?
He’s just venting his frustrations in private.
At that moment, a young master in a blue-green robe suddenly spoke up, his tone playful:
“Young Master Lu is also from a prominent family in Jinzhou, that masked gentleman certainly can’t compare to you. However—”
“Since Miss Qiao the Second places such importance on appearance, I’m curious, what kind of face could make her snatch him and bring him home, even treasuring him so much that she won’t let others see?”
Another person chimed in: “Perhaps… it’s not that good-looking? Maybe he can’t even compare to Young Master Lu, so she made him wear a mask to hide his ugliness.”
“No, no, with Miss Qiao the Second’s temperament, she wouldn’t do such a thing. I suspect, most likely, he’s a celestial being, which is why she won’t let us ordinary mortals see him.”
Hearing this, the malicious fire in Lu Wenzhou’s heart flared up instantly.
He, Lu Wenzhou, was one of the Four Great Young Masters of Jinzhou.
In terms of appearance, he was imposing and dignified;
In terms of family background, the Lu family was a prominent aristocratic clan in Jinzhou;
In terms of literary talent, he passed the imperial examination at the county level at fifteen, earning the title of “talented scholar” from all who met him.
Yet back when he went to propose marriage, Qiao Shuyi had humiliated him from head to toe in front of everyone.
Saying things like “your eyes are too far apart,” “your nose is too fleshy,” and even “you’re not worthy of my courtyard”—
In his nineteen years of life, when had Lu Wenzhou ever suffered such humiliation?
He had held this grudge for a full year.
And now, Qiao Shuyi had snatched some lowborn commoner from who-knows-where, brought him home, and was hiding him away like a treasure, not even letting anyone see his face.
He wanted to see for himself what kind of celestial face lay beneath that mask!
“Whether he’s a celestial being or not—” Lu Wenzhou stepped forward, “we’ll know once we see.”
The young masters behind him exchanged glances, then quickly followed.
This spectacle was not to be missed.
Zong Zhengheng stood with his hands behind his back under the walkway, his gaze seemingly idle, yet in reality taking in everything around him.
He hadn’t heard what Lu Wenzhou and his group were saying.
If he still had his martial arts, focusing his internal energy to his ears, he could have clearly heard even whispers from thirty meters away.
But now, having been poisoned with Power-Dissipating Powder, his internal energy was as good as useless.
Zong Zhengheng could only lean here to bask in the sun for a while, then stand there to admire the flowers.
He moved silently closer to the guests in the garden, and by drawing near, he could hear more clearly.
So far, he had caught several snippets of conversation—
One claimed his father was the Prefect of Qingzhou, another boasted his elder brother held office in Yanzhou; this one hailed from Xuzhou, that one from Yangzhou.
He committed each to memory.
When the day came for his return to the capital, and the fall of the Prince of Jin’an’s mansion—
He would settle accounts with every one of these men’s fathers and brothers.
What kind of decent people could be so closely associated with the Qiao family?
As he pondered this, his peripheral vision caught several richly dressed young masters approaching.
Their steps were hurried, their expressions unfriendly.
Zong Zhengheng remained still, observing the situation calmly.
The leading man stopped before him, looking Zong Zhengheng up and down:
“So you’re the man Qiao Er snatched and brought back to the mansion?”
A cold glint flashed deep within Zong Zhengheng’s ink-dark phoenix eyes.
Yet he still said nothing.
Seeing his silence, someone chimed in with a laugh:
“This is Young Master Lu of the Lu family from Jinzhou. We merely wish to have a chat with you. What—is your face too shameful to show, or have you lost your tongue as well?”
As his words fell, the surrounding young masters chuckled softly, their tones full of mockery and disdain.
Another added, “Young Master Lu, I heard that the one Qiao Er snatched back was locked in the woodshed on the first day, and on the second day, he endured the Water Dungeon and a whipping—”
He paused, deliberately drawing out his words:
“It seems Qiao Er isn’t very fond of this male pet, is she?”
Lu Wenzhou raised an eyebrow. “Is that true?”
“Absolutely true. I just overheard a few maidservants gossiping about it.”
The contempt in Lu Wenzhou’s eyes deepened.
Before the Moon-Embracing Tower, Qiao Shuyi had stopped at some point.
She stood behind a massive vermilion pillar, her figure hidden in the shadows, watching the scene around Zong Zhengheng from afar.
The gossip among those maidservants had naturally been spread on her orders.
Over the past two days, Zong Zhengheng had indeed learned to behave.
He knew not to anger her, knew how to coax her into a good mood, knew to say those pleasing words to win her favor.
But—
It wasn’t enough.
The cliché of a beauty rescuing a hero might be old-fashioned, but as long as it worked, it was fine.
Lu Wenzhou took a step forward, glaring at Zong Zhengheng, his tone growing increasingly arrogant:
“So you’re an unpopular male pet.”
He raised his hand, reaching toward Zong Zhengheng’s mask:
“In that case, let me see whether this face of yours is that of a celestial being or—a demon!”
His hand had barely extended halfway when it was caught by a hand with distinct, prominent knuckles.
Lu Wenzhou froze.
Zong Zhengheng wore a mask, revealing only eyes as calm as still water.
Yet the hand gripping Lu Wenzhou’s wrist was like an iron clamp, unmoving.
Lu Wenzhou tried to wrench his wrist free but found he couldn’t break loose.
Though Zong Zhengheng had lost all his internal energy, the raw strength in his body was more than enough to overpower a frail scholar.
Zong Zhengheng looked down at him, his gaze indifferent yet naturally imposing:
“Young Master Lu, this mask was given to me by the young lady. If you remove it and she becomes angry—can you bear the consequences?”
Lu Wenzhou’s expression shifted, then he sneered again.
“Qiao Er is the legitimate daughter of the Prince of Jin’an. Naturally, I dare not provoke her.”
“But you—a lowly commoner snatched back by a woman—what gives you the right to act tough in front of me?”
He shot a meaningful glance behind him.
A page who had been standing not far away stepped forward.
Though short and lean, the page’s steps were steady—clearly a trained fighter.
Zong Zhengheng’s eyes darkened slightly.
The guard stepped forward and, without a word, struck Zong Zhengheng’s wrist with a palm chop.
Zong Zhengheng was forced to release Lu Wenzhou.
In the next moment, the pageboy kicked him behind the knee—
“Thud!”
Zong Zhengheng’s knee slammed heavily onto the ground.
He lowered his gaze, making no struggle.
Nor did he raise his head.
Not far away, groups of young ladies glanced over from the corners of their eyes, then quickly looked away, continuing their previous conversations as if they had seen nothing.
Maids and servants kept their heads down, eyes averted, hurrying past as if merely passing by.
No one spoke up.
No one intervened.
Lu Wenzhou looked down at him from above, his face filled with smug satisfaction.
Behind him, several young masters stood with arms crossed or leaned casually against the corridor pillars, all wearing expressions of amusement as they watched the spectacle, their eyes brimming with undisguised contempt and mockery.
Zong Zhengheng knelt there, slowly lifting his head.
His gaze swept over their faces, one by one, imprinting each in his mind.
How many years had it been?
Since anyone had looked at him with such eyes.
As if he were a dog, an ant, something to be trampled at will.
He knew it all too well.
Back in the palace, when he was still the unfavored prince, he had been looked at just like this.
The favored concubines, the powerful eunuchs, even the slightly more respectable palace maids—all had looked at him with such eyes.
Contempt, disdain, utter disregard.
Back then, he had sworn—
One day, he would seize power and crush everyone beneath his feet.
Later, he truly achieved it.
He climbed over mountains of corpses and seas of blood, step by step, ascending to that position.
On the day of his coronation, standing at the highest point, he looked down at the ministers prostrating at his feet and thought:
In this lifetime, no one would ever dare to look at him like that again.
But now.
He knelt here, on the bluestone pavement of Jin’an Prince’s Manor, at the feet of a spoiled young master.
Zong Zhengheng lowered his eyes, concealing the turbulent undercurrents within.
His hand slowly clenched into a fist.