If she had known in advance that the late Crown Prince would be so short-lived, how could she possibly have still fought with Meng Fu?
Xie Wenzhao perhaps had some suspicions and always wanted her to play the qin. She did know how to play, but she was also clear in her heart about how well she played. Fortunately, the vow she swore back then was vicious enough—she had sufficient reason to refuse Xie Wenzhao.
Meng Yu felt she ought to be satisfied. At least now, she was surely living better than Meng Fu. Just as this thought came to her, the silver needle in her hand was not held steadily—it pierced her finger, and bright red blood oozed out, dripping onto the wedding dress.
Meng Yu lowered her head and looked at the bloodstain on the phoenix feathers of the wedding dress. For some reason, a trace of unease rose in her heart.
She had put in effort to inquire about Meng Fu’s current residence. When she arrived near the house, she happened to see Meng Fu entering the house together with a carriage driver.
Meng Yu felt that the driver’s figure looked familiar. Such a tall man wasn’t common in the Imperial Capital. She suddenly remembered the day Meng Fu divorced Xie Wenzhao—in the light drizzle, it had been a man like this standing by her side, holding an umbrella for her.
Had Meng Fu really gotten together with this man?
Meng Yu found it somewhat unbelievable, but quickly convinced herself—Meng Fu had already divorced Xie Wenzhao. Among the reputable families in the capital, who would still take her as a proper wife?
This older sister of hers, in the end, would have to remarry a carriage driver. Maybe he wasn’t really a driver, but judging by his attire, his status couldn’t be too high.
At this possibility, Meng Yu felt that the resentment piled up in her chest over all these years had finally dispersed a good bit.
She had finally surpassed her elder sister.
Not long after Meng Fu and Li Yue entered the house, a knock sounded at the door. Qingping went to open it, and saw Meng Yu standing outside.
Meng Fu raised her hand and directly pushed His Majesty into the room. Before Li Yue could react, the door behind him had already been shut by Meng Fu.
His Majesty let out a slight sigh—this really felt like sneaking around in an affair!
Meng Fu turned around, walked into the courtyard, and asked Meng Yu: “What are you here for?”
Meng Yu curved her lips, as if what had happened in the past had never been exposed. She said to Meng Fu: “I haven’t seen Elder Sister in a long time. I missed you, so I came to see how you’ve been.”
After speaking, she glanced behind Meng Fu and asked, “By the way, Sister, I think I just saw someone go into your room. Who was that?”
This was actually a question she didn’t even need to ask—what kind of person would be able to freely enter and exit a woman’s boudoir?
Meng Fu said coldly, “You saw wrong.”
Meng Yu took this as Meng Fu being stubborn in speech. If she really had taken up with a servant, of course she wouldn’t be willing to let others know. She was rare in feeling happy today and was willing to save her sister a bit of face. She asked Meng Fu: “Sister, are you still angry with me?”
Why be angry over someone you don’t care about? That would really be unworthy, without any benefit at all.
Meng Fu silently looked at her. The bare tree branches trembled in the cold wind, and their twisted and angular shadows fell onto the bluestone underfoot. Meng Yu felt a bit irritated under that gaze. She continued: “I’m about to marry Xie Wenzhao. Sister, did you know?”
“Congratulations,” Meng Fu said calmly.
A trace of dissatisfaction rose in Meng Yu’s heart. Why was Meng Fu always so calm? It made her seem like an immature child. Back then, even Meng Yanxing always told her to learn from Meng Fu and be more steady.
Meng Yu bit her lip and said: “Actually, I didn’t want to marry Xie Wenzhao either. He’s too stupid of a person. But sometimes, being stupid can also be a virtue. I know you didn’t live well during your years at the Marquis of Xuanping’s residence, but I won’t be like you.”
“Are you done?” Meng Fu asked.
She could see that Meng Yu had come today partly to mock her and partly to show off. But what was there to show off?
Even if Xie Wenzhao liked her, with her personality, she would surely not be able to bear the quarrels from his three concubines in the rear courtyard, or the many rules of the Old Madam. The days ahead might not be as perfect as she imagined.
Meng Fu said to Meng Yu: “If you’re done, then leave.”
A trace of astonishment appeared on Meng Yu’s face. Meng Fu turned and said to Qingping: “Qingping, see A’Yu out.”
Qingping stepped forward. “Miss A’Yu, this way, please.”
Meng Fu had already started to drive her out, so naturally Meng Yu would not continue to linger here. Although she hadn’t seen even the slightest trace of disappointment on Meng Fu’s face, just knowing that she was now involved in some unclear relationship with a carriage driver was already enough to make Meng Yu feel satisfied.
She walked back to the Meng residence with light and quick steps, full of anticipation for her married life to come.
As soon as Madam Meng saw Meng Yu return, she hurried forward and asked: “Where did you run off to again? Do you know your father’s been looking for you everywhere!”
These past few days, whenever Meng Yanxing had a bit of free time, he would nag in Meng Yu’s ear with books like Nü Jie. He was truly worried that Meng Yu would become the second Meng Fu, and one day break off the marriage with Xie Wenzhao over a disagreement. But every time he tried to teach Meng Yu, Meng Yanxing would always regret not having properly raised her earlier.
“I went to visit Elder Sister,” Meng Yu said softly, with her head lowered.
“She…” Madam Meng opened her mouth, then finally asked, “How is she doing now?”
“I saw a man in Elder Sister’s residence, probably a carriage driver,” Meng Yu asked with a worried face, “What should we do? Could it be that Elder Sister wants to marry a carriage driver?”
Lying in bed and trying to rest, Meng Yanxing almost jumped out of bed when he heard these words. He had only just managed to accept that Meng Yu was going to marry Xie Wenzhao, and now Meng Fu wanted to marry a carriage driver? What sin had he committed in this life!
Wasn’t it said that the Empress Dowager liked her? Why would she degrade herself like this?
Speaking of which, it had indeed been quite a while since the Empress Dowager had summoned Meng Fu into the palace. Could it be that she had already forgotten about her?
Meng Yanxing, bracing himself through the discomfort of his body, came out and asked Meng Yu in a low voice: “Are you telling the truth?”
Meng Yu nodded: “I saw it with my own eyes—I saw that man enter Elder Sister’s house.”
Meng Yanxing could tell that this younger daughter of his was not lying, but the matter was too strange. He had a discreet servant with a tight mouth secretly follow them for several days and found that the carriage driver indeed frequently came and went from Meng Fu’s residence. As for what went on after he entered, outsiders could not know. But Meng Fu, a woman who had just divorced, could not be ignorant of the saying “Under the melon vines, do not adjust your shoes; under the plum tree, do not fix your hat” [idiom warning against behavior that might cause suspicion]. If she still allowed the man into her home, then the relationship between them must be far from ordinary.
She had truly gone mad!
“Maybe what that fortune teller said back then was all true. A’Fu, she…” Madam Meng realized she had misspoken and quickly fell silent.
That fortune teller had said that Meng Fu was not born to be part of the Meng family, and that she would bring disaster to the Meng family in the future.
Actually, the fortune teller’s words had already begun to come true when Meng Fu was first brought back to the Meng household. But at the time, Meng Yanxing didn’t believe it.
Now, recalling those words, Meng Yanxing suddenly felt darkness before his eyes, his legs weakening. His body swayed, and he had to grab onto the nearby door frame to barely remain standing. After a long while, he let out a long sigh and said: “Remove Meng Fu from the clan register—just treat it as if the Meng family never had her.”
Just as Madam Meng was about to speak, Meng Yanxing cut her off and said: “No one needs to persuade me. My mind is made up.”
Meng Yanxing had already considered this matter for a long time. Because Meng Fu was his biological daughter, he had not hardened his heart. But this incident made him realize that if he didn’t completely sever ties with Meng Fu, the Meng family’s reputation might continue to be dragged down by her. There were still many girls among the collateral branches of the Meng family who hadn’t yet married.
More importantly, if he were lucky enough to leave his name in the annals of history, how would the historians write about all this?
Madam Meng originally wanted to try persuading Meng Yanxing again, but on second thought, for Meng Yu, this might not be a bad thing. And as for Meng Fu—if she truly had a private affair with a servant, she likely wouldn’t care about this either. If she didn’t live well in the future, she could still step in and offer some help. Thinking this way, Madam Meng ultimately said nothing.
The fifth day of the second lunar month. The chill of spring still lingered, the snow and ice had not yet melted, and a new moon hung on the edge of the sky.
Xie Wenzhao was to be wed the next day. Strangely, he did not feel much joy, nor any nervousness. His heart felt like a pool of stagnant water, or perhaps it was as if the person getting married tomorrow was not himself at all.
He walked to the front of Jixue Courtyard. Lifting his head to glance at the plaque above, for some reason, he suddenly recalled how Meng Yu had once revealed to him that Meng Fu now seemed to be involved with a carriage driver.
Xie Wenzhao furrowed his brows. Meng Fu’s conditions weren’t bad. Even if she had divorced him, there was no need for her to wrong herself like this.
However, he had also heard that some time ago, Meng Yanxing had removed her from the Meng family’s clan register. Meng Fu now could be considered a truly rootless person, someone without a home. Though the Empress Dowager had some fondness for her, how long could that possibly last?
Xie Wenzhao suddenly felt a strong desire to go see this former wife of his.
He didn’t even know what he would say upon seeing her, but in the dark and unseen workings of fate, he felt that perhaps after seeing Meng Fu, he might find some peace of mind.
When it came down to it, it was he and Meng Yu who owed her.
Xie Wenzhao turned and walked out of the Marquis residence.
Clear breeze, bright moon; a fine night, a good hour.
Meng Fu was sitting in the courtyard tuning a few qin that Li Yue had brought from the imperial palace. In the moonlight, she was dressed entirely in white, whiter than snow, with a red cloak draped over her shoulders. Li Yue sat beside her, laughing softly.
Meng Fu turned her head to glance at him and asked: “What are you laughing about?”
Li Yue pulled her into his arms, hugging her completely, and said with a laugh: “I thought of something that made me happy.”
Qingping came out from the room carrying a tray of pastries. Seeing the two of them embracing, she knowingly shook her head and turned around to walk back in.
To this day, Qingping still didn’t know Li Yue’s true identity. She just thought he was some household steward from another family. Still, she felt that Li Yue’s attitude had improved quite a bit compared to before.
Qingping simply thought this man served their young lady quite well—he wasn’t entirely without redeeming qualities.