Now that His Majesty was back in his own body, maybe everything would take a new turn.
But if something really had happened to Eunuch Gao—then who would remind His Majesty to take the medicine?
And maybe…
Meng Fu did not dare to keep thinking further, nor dare delay any longer. She lifted the blanket from her body and got out of bed. Only, this time the illness was truly a bit more serious—she had just taken a single step forward to reach for her clothes when her body swayed.
Qingping saw this and rushed over in a flash to support her, saying, “Madam, if you need anything, just tell this servant, this servant will get it for you.”
Meng Fu pulled her arm out from Qingping’s grasp. She said to her, “Qingping, go to the back courtyard and lead a horse out for me.”
“Lead a horse?” Qingping looked at Meng Fu with a face full of confusion. “Madam, what are you going to do?”
Meng Fu urged her, “Don’t ask, just go quickly.”
Qingping still hesitated a bit, so Meng Fu said in a low voice, “If you don’t go, I’ll go myself.”
Qingping quickly said, “Please don’t go out, I’ll get the horse right away.”
She dashed through the rain to the back hall of the marquis’ manor, and when she came back with the horse, she saw that Meng Fu had already changed into a set of simple clothing, a bamboo hat on her head, standing in the rain. Qingping immediately understood—Madam was planning to ride out.
She grew anxious at once and asked, “Madam, you’re still ill, where are you going? Even if you must go out, at least wait a bit—I’ll get a carriage for you.”
Meng Fu reached out and snatched the reins from Qingping’s hands. She said, “There’s no time. I want to go quickly.”
Qingping couldn’t understand—where exactly did Madam want to go? She didn’t care for her own health at all, insisting on heading out in the rain.
Qingping knew well that once Madam made up her mind about something, no one could dissuade her. She simply said, “Then I’ll go with you.”
“No need, I’ll go alone. I’ll be back very soon.”
Meng Fu led the horse and walked toward the gates of the estate. Just after she stepped out of Jixue Courtyard, she ran into Hua Xiaoling. This concubine, who used to always try to curry favor in front of her, now had a face full of concern and a smiling expression. She asked, “Madam, where are you going? You’ve recovered from your illness? The Old Madam just sent someone to look for you!”
“I have something to take care of,” Meng Fu said while continuing forward.
Hua Xiaoling trailed behind her like a little tail, pressing her with questions: “What matter do you have to take care of? Why go out in this kind of weather? Besides, it’s getting late—just go tomorrow.”
“It’s a very important matter,” Meng Fu replied.
The rain gradually grew heavier. Even though Meng Fu wore a rain-resistant oilskin coat, the clothes underneath still got quite wet.
Today was the Old Marquis’s birthday. The servants were busy preparing for the banquet, passing hastily by her. She passed through a tall moon gate, through the withered garden plants, and saw Sun Yulian organizing the banquet. When Sun Yulian saw Meng Fu, she also smiled and said, “Just now, your father, Lord Meng, arrived. Madam, do you want to meet him first?”
Meng Fu paused in her steps, then shook her head at Sun Yulian and continued walking.
Sun Yulian noticed she was leading a horse and became puzzled. After a moment of hesitation, she followed, wanting to see what exactly Madam was up to.
Meng Fu walked past the narrow stone bridge behind the rockery, past the mossy green pebble path beside the pond. Many yellowed, dried leaves had been knocked down by the rain, covering the ground. She soon arrived at the front courtyard.
Qu Hanyan was there, holding an umbrella and admiring the withered lotuses. This concubine, who always used to keep a cold and proud expression in front of her, now revealed a delighted look as soon as she saw her. Her eyes sparkled as she asked, “Madam, are you going out horseback riding? Can you take me along?”
To ride a horse in the rain—just hearing that sounded like something brimming with the heroic air of the jianghu.
Meng Fu shook her head again. She didn’t know what His Majesty had done, but this courtesan-born concubine looked much more lovable than usual.
The gate of the marquis’ manor was right before her now. The sky was dark, wind howled and rain lashed. The golden door studs were being pounded by the heavy rain. The vermillion-red gate stood silently, like a man-eating monster—or like a massive, heavy bloodstained stele.
Meng Fu led her horse and walked out of the marquis’ gate.
Xie Wenzhao caught up from behind and shouted to her: “Meng Fu, where are you going in this pouring rain? As the Madam of the marquis’ manor, it’s one thing not to manage household affairs—but now you won’t even show your face? Don’t you know the guests are all waiting for you?”
He originally hadn’t wanted to come find Meng Fu, but just now Meng Yanxing had spoken, and he had no choice but to come. He said to Meng Fu, “Your father has already arrived. He wants to see you. Hurry and come back with me.”
Sun Yulian quickly chimed in to persuade her along with Xie Wenzhao: “That’s right, Madam, what matter can’t wait a bit longer? If it really can’t, then you can just instruct the servants to go do it.”
Just as she finished speaking, a servant came running from within the manor, panting as they said to Meng Fu, “Madam, Madam, the Old Marquis is urging you to hurry over!”
Everyone was waiting for Meng Fu to back down.
Xie Wenzhao had originally feared that coming to find Meng Fu would result in a scolding from her right away. But for some reason, today’s Meng Fu was somewhat silent. Xie Wenzhao instantly gained momentum, as if he were about to vent all the humiliation he’d suffered in front of her before. He shouted angrily, “Meng Fu, what are you still waiting for? You are the Marchioness of the marquis manor. On such an important occasion, you’re not even showing your face—what kind of behavior is that!”
Meng Fu held the reins tightly, still saying nothing.
Xie Wenzhao continued: “If you were ill, then fine. But you’re not sick, and you still want to ride a horse? Now you’re just walking off—what will the elders of both families think? What will all the guests think? Have you thought about the consequences? The marquis manor’s face will be completely lost by you!”
Just after he finished speaking, another servant came hurrying over and said to Meng Fu, “Madam, why haven’t you gone back yet? Lord Meng is already growing anxious.”
“Madam, please go back. It’s almost dark, and the banquet is about to begin.”
“So many people are waiting for you. How can you go out at a time like this?”
“Madam, even if you don’t care for your own health, you should at least care a little about the face of the marquis manor. The guests who’ve come are all old friends of the Old Marquis. As the official hostess, it’s truly inappropriate for you to go out at this time!”
“Madam, just endure for a bit. No matter what urgent matters you have, put them aside for now and let the Old Marquis’s birthday be celebrated first.”
So many, so many voices were all mixed together—Meng Fu became somewhat dazed. She seemed to see countless faces—some familiar, some strange—gathering around her, using eyes full of disappointment to accuse her, using sharp words to mock her. She saw a long rope extending from the gates of the marquis manor, the rope looping around her neck, desperately dragging her back into the marquis manor.
Everything had returned to its original place. She was the daughter of Meng Yanxing, the legitimate wife of the Marquis of Xuanping. Today was the birthday of the Old Marquis of Xuanping’s household—she should fulfill her duty and prepare a joyful and harmonious banquet for all the guests.
A streak of silver lightning tore through the dark sky. Her dark oilcloth raincoat was lifted by the wind, rustling sharply. The hair at her temples was soaked by rain and clung to her face. Meng Fu lifted her head to look at the sky—between the clouds, a small glimmer of heavenly light flickered faintly.
She was just Meng Fu, after all.
Since she had the courage to bear this endless pain, then why couldn’t she break free from these shackles? That wouldn’t be any more painful than this very moment.
Even if it meant she would lose everything she had now, and from then on possess nothing in this mortal world—so what was there to regret?
She would lose, but she would also, eventually, gain.
Meng Fu lowered her head. She smiled at the Xie Wenzhao before her. Xie Wenzhao was momentarily stunned. It had been so long since he last saw Meng Fu smile at him like that.
He thought Meng Fu was finally yielding, and let out a breath of relief. His tone unconsciously softened. He said to Meng Fu, “It’s good that you know what’s important. When I came over just now, Father-in-law didn’t look pleased. Once you get there, just offer an apology first. He won’t say anything in public.”
However, Meng Fu had no intention of staying. She said to Xie Wenzhao: “I’m sorry, but I must go. Right now.”
As soon as her words landed, she cleanly and decisively mounted the horse. Gripping the reins, she gave a slight shake and shouted, “Jia!”
She galloped through the long street on that white steed, her figure quickly disappearing into the thick curtain of rain.
Xie Wenzhao stood there, staring at Meng Fu’s fading silhouette. For some reason, he felt that this act of disobedience from her angered him even more than any of her previous scoldings. Rage and anxiety welled up within him. In the end, he flung his sleeves and said: “Meng Fu, since you’ve gone, don’t bother coming back!”
Hua Xiaoling murmured, “She’s gone mad. Madam has truly gone mad.”
Then she turned her head and saw Qu Hanyan gazing longingly in the direction Meng Fu had left, her expression filled with envy. It looked as though she wished she were the one on that horse, following the Madam and riding away with her.
Hua Xiaoling: “……”
This Qu Hanyan didn’t seem much more normal either—why had she bothered fighting with her back then?
Meng Fu rode the horse and very quickly left the imperial capital. She galloped swiftly toward the direction of Jun Mountain.
The rain fell heavier and heavier. The sky’s dark clouds were like ink, pressing down over every city she passed through. The autumn wind howled, night deepened, and the icy rainwater poured down on Meng Fu’s head, ladle after ladle.
Those scales—oppressive, suffocating, uncomfortable—that had clung to her body were peeling off piece by piece.
She was reborn in this torrential rain.
TL: I really liked this scene.