Xie Wenzhao stood at the entrance of Jixue Courtyard, looking at the several women inside the courtyard. For a moment, he didn’t even know how to describe his current mood.
Wives and concubines getting along harmoniously—this ought to be every man’s lifelong wish, but if the harmony among wives and concubines reaches the point that they completely forget about their husband, who knows how many men in the world could accept that.
By reason, Xie Wenzhao had no such feelings toward his three concubines, nor toward Meng Fu. Many times, he would rather have not a single woman by his side, to be alone and solitary—then he could openly and righteously marry Meng Yu and bring her home. So actually, whether or not they paid attention to him now, it made no difference to him.
But at this moment, Xie Wenzhao stood here, watching his own women diligently fawn over Meng Fu, and he still faintly felt that something wasn’t quite right.
The impact of this scene was too strong; it made Xie Wenzhao, for a time, even forget that he had come to Jixue Courtyard to have Meng Fu manage the accounts.
Qingping was the first to notice Xie Wenzhao. She softly reminded Li Yue: “Furen, the Lord Marquis has come over?”
Li Yue didn’t even lift an eyelid. Whether Xie Wenzhao came or not didn’t affect him in the slightest. It was Hua Xiaoling and Sun Yulian who, upon hearing Qingping’s words, immediately looked up toward the gate. Seeing Xie Wenzhao standing there, they originally intended to immediately go up and greet him. But catching sight of the furen’s indifference from the corners of their eyes, the eagerness in their hearts also faded.
Lord Marquis definitely hadn’t come for them. If they went forward now, not only would they provoke Lord Marquis’s dislike, the furen probably wouldn’t be pleased either. Thinking of this, they decided to forget it.
Xie Wenzhao waited at the entrance for a while, and none of these women were willing to come over and pay him any mind. He found this a bit amusing, but still consoled himself—if they were willing to let him off now, that was also a good thing for him. He took a deep breath and walked over, saying to Li Yue: “Meng Fu, didn’t you say you were sick?”
Li Yue casually said: “Yeah, what about it?”
Xie Wenzhao was choked speechless. He hadn’t expected that after being exposed, Meng Fu could still act with such righteous confidence.
Xie Wenzhao, a gentle and refined young master of the marquis’ residence, couldn’t help but speak with a sarcastic tone: “You do look like you’re quite seriously ill.”
But Li Yue had no intention of dealing with him. His Majesty now had things on his mind, and couldn’t even be bothered to curse at him. He only said: “Finished talking? If you’re done, you can scram.”
Xie Wenzhao truly wanted to walk away, but if he left now, he would still have to go back and look at the account books. These past days, he’d been tormented by matters like rice, oil, salt, and soy sauce, so much that he looked haggard. Just seeing those few characters gave him a headache. Today, no matter what, he had to settle this matter. Otherwise, how could he, a dignified Lord Marquis, still have any authority?
He said coldly to Li Yue: “Since you’re not sick, I’ll have someone bring you the account books later.”
Unfortunately, Li Yue didn’t even look at him and said: “Not looking. Scram.”
Although Xie Wenzhao’s health was a lot better than the Old Madam’s, after these few days of torment, now getting infuriated by Meng Fu again, even he felt a bit dizzy. He lowered his voice and said: “Meng Fu, you’d better not act out of spite.”
Act out of spite?
Li Yue sneered: “Do you not understand human language? Qingping, go bring the big Huang from the back courtyard and give the Marquis of Xuanping a proper demonstration of what it means to scram.”
Qingping stood beside them. She looked down at Li Yue on the chair, then looked at Xie Wenzhao. For a moment, she didn’t know what she should do. Fortunately, furen seemed to be just saying it casually and didn’t press further.
Qingping couldn’t help but secretly complain about Xie Wenzhao in her heart. He clearly already knew what kind of temper the furen had now, and still kept coming to get scolded—what could anyone say about that?
Xie Wenzhao found that Meng Fu was now truly unresponsive to both soft and hard tactics, completely impenetrable. He might really be helpless against her. Xie Wenzhao had no choice but to soften his tone a bit: “I can’t manage these account books. You’ll have to handle them.”
Li Yue said: “Can’t manage them? Then how are you working in the Ministry of Revenue? Since you can’t even handle the accounts, I think you’d best resign and go home to study under the steward properly.”
Xie Wenzhao felt that the two things weren’t directly related. He only held a sinecure at the Ministry of Revenue. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have so much time to go frolicking around with Meng Yu. Besides, the accounts he saw at the ministry were different from those of the marquis’ residence. The account books here were full of all kinds of scattered trivial items, enough to make one fall asleep reading them.
Xie Wenzhao couldn’t help but angrily say, “Meng Fu, you’re a marquis’ wife—if you won’t manage this matter, who else will? Had I known today would be like this, I absolutely wouldn’t have married you back then.”
“Had I known today…”
Who can predict the future in advance?
Was it that Meng Fu had willingly wanted to marry him, Xie Wenzhao, back then?
Li Yue was finally stirred by Xie Wenzhao into a bit of fire; he raised his head, glanced at Xie Wenzhao, and mocked: “Xie Wenzhao, have you not taken a look in the mirror? What face do you have to say such things? Do you think you’re all that? Too funny. Why don’t you come and tell me—what exactly is so great about you that makes you feel like marrying a wife is some huge grievance? Do you fucking think you’re some immortal reincarnated as a fairy?”
“You—!” Xie Wenzhao turned red with anger from the scolding. He wanted to argue back, but didn’t even know where to start.
Li Yue kept a cold face and continued, “You married a wife just to have someone manage your account books? Then why don’t you go marry the steward? Want me to make the call for you and have the steward taken in too? If one isn’t enough, how about two more? How about it? Does that sound good?”
Facing Li Yue’s questioning, the fire in Xie Wenzhao’s chest surged wildly, but his momentum shrank back. He tried hard to steady his emotions and said, “Meng Fu, can you not make trouble for no reason?”
Li Yue sneered: “When you’re out of reasons, you say I’m being unreasonable. Xie Wenzhao, that’s all you’re capable of.”
Xie Wenzhao was gritting his teeth so hard they were almost cracking. Li Yue paid not the slightest attention to his little bit of anger and continued, “What’s valuable in a person is having self-awareness. If you don’t have it, that’s fine—I won’t force it. But don’t come show your disgrace in front of me.”
Xie Wenzhao knew that today’s trip had been a waste. Not only had he failed to push the household account books onto Meng Fu, he’d also ended up full of anger. By the time he returned, the sore at the corner of his mouth would probably have grown another circle.
He flung his sleeves and left. If he ever came to beg Meng Fu again, he, Xie Wenzhao, would be a dog!
After Xie Wenzhao left, the spacious Jixue Courtyard quieted down once more. Li Yue felt his neck a bit sore, slightly adjusted his posture, then accepted the sour plum drink in Sun Yulian’s hand and drank it all in one go.
He hadn’t planned on getting angry today—alas, Xie Wenzhao was just too annoying.
Li Yue placed the bowl on the table to the side and lifted his hand slightly. Qingping immediately understood the meaning behind furen’s gesture. She looked a bit helpless, turned her head to look at the three concubines in the courtyard who hadn’t recovered from the shock, and said to them, “Keep playing music, keep dancing.”
Sun Yulian was the first to respond. She lowered her head to glance at Li Yue, pressed her lips together, seeming as if she wanted to say something. This wasn’t the first time she’d seen furen scold the marquis, but no matter how many times she saw it, Sun Yulian still found it truly shocking. If word got out, it’d probably scare a bunch of people stiff.
She didn’t know where furen got the guts to scold the marquis like that—but in fact, after every scolding, no serious consequences had ever followed. The one who seemed to always end up hurt was the marquis.
Truly a perennial unlucky one.
Since furen wasn’t worried, why should she be?
Once she figured this out, Sun Yulian picked up the long flute from the table, raised it to her lips, and began to play softly. Qu Hanyan, hearing the flute, looked over at Sun Yulian, then tossed aside any thoughts of Xie Wenzhao and raised her long sword to begin dancing. Hua Xiaoling looked left and right, thinking that all the other concubines of the marquis were participating—she couldn’t fall behind—so she stepped in front of a small flower-drum and began drumming away. Though she wasn’t quite in rhythm, it was at least passable.
Li Yue, in fact, didn’t really feel like watching them sing and dance. He’d never liked this kind of thing, and after that scene with Xie Wenzhao, he was even less in the mood. When he had raised his hand earlier, it was actually because his hand had cramped a bit—he had only meant for Qingping to go see whether dinner was ready.
Li Yue leaned back slightly, squinting up at the moon now appearing in the sky. These days, just seeing Xie Wenzhao made him feel irritated.
This was definitely Xie Wenzhao’s problem. When was he going to properly reflect and become even just a halfway normal man?
The clouds covered the moon; the sky darkened a shade again. After Qu Hanyan finished her dance, the concubines returned to their own courtyards. After eating dinner, Li Yue walked two circles around the courtyard. Thinking about how Xie Wenzhao had spoken of marriage earlier with such reluctance, a fire stirred in his chest again. He should’ve cursed him a few more times just now—pity the man had already run off. He’d just have to make up for it next time.
He picked up the long sword and began practicing in the courtyard. Qingping couldn’t understand the sword techniques, but still felt that furen at this moment carried a bit more killing aura than during the daytime.
Moonlight poured down over a thousand li, the majestic palace walls blanketed in swaying tree shadows.
Meng Fu remembered His Majesty had once said he wanted to hear her play the qin. She knew at the time His Majesty probably just meant to encourage her not to be afraid to touch the things in his private treasury—but this time, leaving the palace, Meng Fu still brought a qin with her.
The Ullambana Festival had already passed, and Master Huaiming had come out of seclusion. Meng Fu and Li Yue had gone once to Baima Temple, hoping to sound out some useful information from Huaiming’s mouth. But this master chatted with them for half a day and didn’t reveal a single sentence—only said this was a fate bestowed by the heavens, and asked the two of them to cherish it well.
After leaving Baima Temple, the two of them sat down in a small pavilion they found in the mountains. Occasionally, pedestrians passed by. Although none of them stopped, it was inevitable that someone would recognize the two of them. It wasn’t a big deal if they recognized the emperor, but if they also recognized the Marchioness of Xuanping, that would be less good—so Li Yue had no choice but to sit there wearing a veiled hat the entire time.
This summer hadn’t yet ended—only a short tail of it remained. Meng Fu worried that His Majesty might feel hot, so she fanned him at his side. But she hadn’t waved the fan more than a few times before it was taken away by His Majesty—His Majesty wanted to do it himself.
They spoke about Prince Xuan and the late Crown Prince. Up to now, Li Yue hadn’t yet taken action; he just wanted to see what other kinds of tricks these two factions might still pull.
The pitiful Prince Xuan busied himself day after day for his grand cause, throwing money everywhere, completely unaware that all his movements were under the surveillance of the dark guards. They were just waiting until he had gathered all his people before wiping them out in one go.
His Majesty simply explained his next steps to Meng Fu. He knew Meng Fu was smart—many things only needed a hint for her to understand.
After Meng Fu had remembered everything His Majesty asked of her, she told him about recent happenings in the palace. Upon hearing that the little prince could now speak, Li Yue was very happy. But then, hearing Meng Fu point out the little prince’s problem—that while the child could speak, it wasn’t complete speech—he could only repeat what others had said, and couldn’t yet organize language to express his own thoughts. At most, he used other people’s words to express a certain intention of his own.
But no matter what, compared to before, this was already a big improvement. However, Li Yue’s expression suddenly turned strange. He stroked his chin and didn’t speak.
Meng Fu asked him, “Your Majesty, what is it?”
Li Yue said with some depth, “I’m thinking about what I’ve said in front of Xiao Jiu in the past.”
Li Yue thought about it seriously for a while. The worst thing he’d said, it seemed, was just cursing the late emperor a bit. That wasn’t a big deal—after all, the late emperor really did deserve cursing. He always felt that Xiao Jiu’s inability to speak was entirely the late emperor’s fault.
Meng Fu quietly sat across from him, giving His Majesty plenty of space to reflect on the past. Suddenly, she heard Li Yue ask her: “What are your plans for the future?”
“The future?” Meng Fu was holding a teacup, and when she raised her head, she looked at Li Yue with a slightly puzzled gaze.
Li Yue met Meng Fu’s eyes and was momentarily dazed. He felt something was off. He actually found Meng Fu, sitting opposite him holding a teacup, a little bit… cute. What was cute about this? It wasn’t like he himself had never held a teacup before!
Li Yue stared at the teacup in Meng Fu’s hands, wanting to see whether there was something wrong with the cup. He only snapped back to reality when he heard Meng Fu call him. He said to Meng Fu: “I mean after we switch back.”
Meng Fu shook her head and said, “I haven’t thought about it.”
When she had first switched bodies with Li Yue, Meng Fu had considered what her future place in the marquis’ residence would be. But as His Majesty stirred up great waves within the marquis’ residence, that question became impossible to answer—because of His Majesty’s way of doing things, she simply couldn’t be certain whether the Marquis of Xuanping’s residence would still exist by the time they switched back. Honestly, if one day the residence was completely ruined by Xie Wenzhao, it wouldn’t even be surprising.
“How could you not have thought about it? Think about it now,” Li Yue urged her. “Something this big—how can you not care at all?”
Meng Fu: “……”
It wasn’t that she didn’t want to care—she just didn’t know from which angle she was supposed to care.
After a long time, Meng Fu spoke. She said: “Maybe… still the same as before.”
She really envied the life His Majesty had now within the marquis’ residence—but she probably couldn’t do it.
Li Yue discontentedly said, “If it’s still the same as before, then didn’t we swap for nothing?”
“Then… then I’ll work hard to learn from Your Majesty?” Meng Fu felt that this was no small challenge for her.
Li Yue was still not satisfied with Meng Fu’s answer. He leaned back a little and frowned as he asked Meng Fu: “Is that all? You have no other thoughts?”
“Other thoughts?” Meng Fu thought seriously. What else could she do? Just imitating His Majesty was already difficult enough for her.
Li Yue saw that she seemed to have no intention of divorcing Xie Wenzhao, and his brows immediately furrowed. He had previously thought that if Meng Fu didn’t want to divorce Xie Wenzhao, he would definitely have to speak to her and make her come to her senses. But now, at this moment, Li Yue was shocked to find that the words he had prepared for so long couldn’t come out at all.
This wasn’t right.
This shouldn’t be.
Did Huaiming place a curse on him just now at Baima Temple?
Why would she not want to divorce Xie Wenzhao?
How could she not want to?
What good was there in that idiot Xie Wenzhao?
Meng Fu saw that Li Yue had stopped speaking and looked visibly puffed up with anger. She cautiously asked, “Your Majesty, are you angry?”
Li Yue snorted, and said: “No.”
If only His Majesty’s tone when saying “no” could be a little gentler, she would be willing to try and believe his words.
Meng Fu knew that her answer hadn’t satisfied His Majesty. But what kind of answer did His Majesty want to hear from her?
Meng Fu sighed inwardly, but lifted a bright smile on her face and said to Li Yue, “How about I play the qin for you now?”
Li Yue pursed his lips and still said nothing. Meng Fu continued talking to herself: “It’s been such a long time since I last played, I don’t know how it’ll sound. If it’s not pleasant, please bear with me.”
In fact, she had practiced a few times in the palace, but the palace attendants naturally wouldn’t dare say she played poorly. As for whether His Majesty would like it—she truly had no way of knowing.
As her voice fell, the opposite Li Yue finally spoke. He said to Meng Fu: “If you don’t want to smile, then don’t smile.”
Meng Fu froze for a moment, then the smile at the corners of her mouth widened a little more, and a hint of genuine laughter appeared in her eyes. She said to Li Yue, “Actually, I’m always happy whenever I see Your Majesty.”
Li Yue hadn’t expected Meng Fu to say something like that. Somewhere in his chest, it felt as though Guifei’s fluffy tail had brushed past his heart. He turned his head away a little uncomfortably and gave a light hum.
Then why doesn’t she want to divorce Xie Wenzhao?
Or—why not just repudiate him instead!
Meng Fu gave a light laugh and placed her hands on the qin. She plucked the strings, and zheng—a clear and bright tone flowed from her fingertips.
Li Yue propped his chin in his hand and quietly listened to the qin’s melody. It was truly strange—inside the same skin, when the soul was different, the whole person seemed completely different.
Meng Fu lowered her head slightly, her expression focused and composed, the corners of her lips carrying a faint, almost imperceptible smile.
Li Yue kept watching her, listening to the gentle, drifting sound of the qin. He felt as though he was a little drunk.
That gentle sunlight filtered through slender leaves, falling upon the flowers and grasses, and colorful butterflies danced to the music.
Today, Xie Wenzhao had arranged with a friend to go to Baima Temple to offer incense. Halfway up the mountain, he heard a qin’s melody drifting through the air. In that instant, he froze in place.
His friend called to him several times, but he didn’t respond.
It was as if he had suddenly been transported back to that torrential rainstorm in Xuzhou. He had almost died in that rain. It was this qin music that had brought him a beam of heavenly light.
He was certain—this was the very qin music he had once heard in Xuzhou.
Xie Wenzhao was so stirred that both his hands were trembling, tears almost bursting from his eyes. Was it Meng Yu? Was it Meng Yu playing the qin?
Back then, before he was to marry Meng Fu, Meng Yu had once told him—she had said that for the rest of her life, she would never play the qin again.
He hadn’t wanted Meng Yu to go that far, yet he couldn’t bear to let down her deep feelings.
He thought he would never hear such qin music again in this lifetime.
Xie Wenzhao tossed aside the friend beside him, turned around, and madly ran toward the direction the music was coming from. The mountain path was rugged and not easy to walk—he stumbled and fell several times, but paid no mind to the pain. He scrambled back up in a rush and continued running forward, afraid that if he were even a step too late, he might not see the person again.
His clothes were torn by branches, his face was scraped and wounded—he didn’t care. He only wanted to see her as quickly as possible.
At last, he arrived outside the small pavilion.
He saw that inside the pavilion sat a woman wearing a veiled hat. He stared foolishly—was that Meng Yu? Was that the person he had once longed for day and night?
Xie Wenzhao’s heart was pounding fast—so very fast—yet he held his breath, afraid to disturb the person inside the pavilion. He lightened his steps, carefully parted the branches in front of him, and walked two steps closer. Then he lifted his head and looked again.
This time, he realized—the one playing the qin in the pavilion was not that woman.
But rather—
His Majesty?!