Qingping, who was originally about to step forward, immediately stopped in her tracks upon hearing this, and obediently stood under the eaves.
Just as Xie Wenzhao had sat down—he had spoken too many words, and his throat was dry—he poured a cup of tea intending to moisten his throat. But just as he lifted the cup, he heard Meng Fu say this sentence. Xie Wenzhao’s movements instantly halted. He should thank Meng Fu for not speaking while he was drinking, otherwise this mouthful of tea would definitely have been spat out.
He heavily placed the teacup in his hand back down. The tea inside splashed onto the back of his hand, but he had no time to pay it any mind. He raised his head and, with a face full of shock, asked Meng Fu, “What did you say?”
The shivering autumn wind swept past the treetops. A few withered leaves on the branches swayed on the verge of falling in the wind. Sunlight passed through those about-to-die leaves and painted a mottled shadow at Meng Fu’s feet. She stood in place, looked at Xie Wenzhao, and repeated her words to him:
“Let us separate and dissolve the marriage.”
“Did I mishear, or have you gone mad?” Xie Wenzhao felt as if he had heard the biggest joke under the heavens. He suddenly stood up and walked over, asking Meng Fu, “I heard from Qingping that you had a fever yesterday—have you burned yourself silly?”
“I haven’t gone mad, nor am I muddled. I am very clear-headed.” Facing Xie Wenzhao’s sharp gaze, Meng Fu did not flinch in the slightest. She said calmly, “I have never been this clear-headed.”
Xie Wenzhao began to laugh, and mocked: “You’re very clear-headed? You’re very clear-headed and could say such words? You wanted to marry into the Marquis Manor back then and you married in, and now you want to divorce so you just divorce? Meng Fu, aren’t you being too selfish?”
“Am I selfish? In all these years, this is the first time I’ve heard someone say I’m selfish.”
When Meng Fu said this, her face showed neither shame nor accusation. She was simply stating a fact.
Xie Wenzhao said in a deep voice: “Isn’t it? From the very beginning it was for your own selfish desires that you entered the Marquis Manor, became the Marchioness. You gained authority over the household, and the entire Marquis Manor was held in your palm. And now you discard it at will, and you still want to talk about divorce?”
Meng Fu shook her head and said to Xie Wenzhao: “You’re wrong, Xie Wenzhao. These were never things I wanted.”
Xie Wenzhao lowered his head and let out a string of mocking laughs. He laughed as he said: “This is truly the funniest joke I’ve ever heard. You didn’t want them? You tormented me for so long, and now you’re telling me these weren’t things you wanted? Meng Fu, do you even have a heart?”
In the past, Meng Fu didn’t interact much with Xie Wenzhao. Usually, he came to Jixue Courtyard with a request, and Meng Fu would think of a way to arrange it. This was the first time she had heard him speak so much in front of her. This Marquis of Xuanping was a bit too pretentious—and he also didn’t need to be so pretentious.
Meng Fu quietly observed the Xie Wenzhao before her, wanting to see what more he would say.
Under Meng Fu’s calm gaze, Xie Wenzhao suddenly felt like he was nothing but a jumping clown.
He turned slightly, looking at the lotus bowl in the courtyard, whose lotuses had already withered. He said softly: “I didn’t truly want to marry you, but I believe I have done fairly well these past years. I gave you enough respect, entrusted all affairs of the Marquis Manor into your hands. Meng Fu, what more are you dissatisfied with? Because I married you, I could no longer be with the woman I truly love. She, too, suffered because of this matter, and even vowed to never play the qin again in her life.”
Xie Wenzhao’s tone was full of grievance, brimming with sorrow. It was as if he were pouring out all the bitterness he had endured these past years.
But in this marriage, the one who suffered grievances was never only Xie Wenzhao and Meng Yu.
In fact, Meng Yu couldn’t even really be said to have suffered grievances.
Meng Fu did not interrupt him. She only waited until he finished before opening her mouth: “Don’t talk about these things anymore. Xie Wenzhao, is it that you’re unwilling to separate from me, or is it that you think this matter shouldn’t be brought up by me?”
She still appeared extremely rational and calm, and also somewhat cold and unfeeling.
“I…” Xie Wenzhao was momentarily rendered speechless, unable to answer.
Meng Fu continued: “There’s someone in your heart. I’ve always known. Now, to separate from me—isn’t that better for you? What are you dissatisfied with? I don’t understand.”
Xie Wenzhao was stunned as well.
What exactly was he dissatisfied with?
In the past, he thought that because he had married Meng Fu, he would never be able to be with Meng Yu for the rest of his life. But now, Meng Fu was willing to separate from him. Perhaps… perhaps he still had a chance to fulfill his heart’s desire.
Xie Wenzhao was silent for a moment, then said to Meng Fu: “Father and Mother won’t agree to it.”
This, Meng Fu had also considered. It wasn’t hard to resolve. The Old Madam had probably been displeased with her for some time now, and compared to the first child of the Marquis Manor being born from a concubine’s belly, the Old Madam would definitely prefer to gain a legitimately born eldest grandson of nobler status. For all these years, she had not produced a single child—perhaps the Old Madam had already had thoughts of replacing her as the principal wife for Xie Wenzhao.
If it still didn’t work out, then the Empress Dowager might have to be brought out, but that would be a matter to consider later. Most likely, it wouldn’t come to that. She said to Xie Wenzhao: “If you don’t dare to speak, I’ll go speak.”
Xie Wenzhao gave a cold snort. Since Meng Fu had said so, if he really let her go speak, it would make him seem weak and incompetent. He said: “No need, I’ll go speak myself.”
With those words, he had agreed to the matter of divorce.
After Xie Wenzhao left, Qingping walked over and asked her, “Madam, are you really going to separate from the Marquis?”
“Isn’t it good?” Meng Fu turned and sat down on the stone bench.
“I don’t know if it’s good or not,” Qingping furrowed her brows, looking very conflicted. She said, “I know you’ve never been happy living in the Marquis Manor, but after the separation, are you going to return to the Meng family?”
Qingping instinctively felt that if her lady returned to the Meng family, she probably wouldn’t be any happier than she had been in the Marquis Manor.
“We’ll talk about that when the time comes.” Meng Fu said. But ever since the thought of separation arose in her mind, Meng Fu already knew very clearly—if she truly separated from Xie Wenzhao, the Meng family most likely wouldn’t keep her.
She had no home anymore.
Xie Wenzhao was very efficient. Though it wasn’t yet known what the Old Marquis and the Old Madam thought of it, the three concubines in his rear courtyard had already heard of the matter and all came to Jixue Courtyard to ask Meng Fu what exactly had happened.
Meng Fu looked at them once and basically understood what was on their minds. Hua Xiaoling was never very clever, didn’t think too much—she was purely here to gossip. Sun Yulian was meticulous in thought—she worried that after Meng Fu left the Marquis Manor, she might not fare well under the new main wife, but at the same time, she also somewhat desired to obtain the now-vacant position of principal wife.
Among the three concubines, it was actually Qu Hanyan who was most reluctant to part with her—this was quite amusing.
Just the day before she exchanged bodies with His Majesty, this Concubine Qu had still been racking her brain to swap courtyards with her, wanting to show off Xie Wenzhao’s favor toward her.
Truly, the affairs of the world are ever-changing.
After Meng Fu sent them away, not long later, Xie Wenzhao came to Jixue Courtyard again. The twilight was dusky, shadows of trees crisscrossed—he stood before Meng Fu and told her that the Old Marquis and the Old Madam had agreed.
If it had been three months earlier, the Old Madam might have objected. But now, she truly felt that it would be better if the two of them could separate. Let alone how unruly Meng Fu had become lately, just the fact that Xie Wenzhao kept holding himself like jade every day [ “guarding one’s chastity”] wasn’t a solution. The Old Madam thought: after they divorce, Xie Wenzhao could marry the woman in his heart, and she could finally carry a grandson sooner.
For a couple to divorce, aside from both parties being willing, the consent of both families was also required. Only after that could the matter be reported to the authorities, and the household registration changed. The Marquis Manor side was easy to settle, but Meng Yanxing’s side would certainly be more troublesome.
All these years, people had always gone to flatter Meng Yanxing for how well he raised his daughter—how could he allow this carefully cultivated daughter of his to divorce her husband?
Meng Fu wanted to settle the divorce matter as quickly as possible, so she straightforwardly arranged with Xie Wenzhao to go to the Meng residence tomorrow. After arranging all remaining matters, Xie Wenzhao still stood there, seemingly without the intention to leave. Meng Fu asked him: “Is there anything else?”
Xie Wenzhao moved his lips, but didn’t know what he wanted to say.
He was about to separate from Meng Fu—his long-standing wish was finally about to come true. Yet, for some reason, there wasn’t much joy in his heart. It felt unreal, like a strange dream. Not a nightmare, but not a sweet dream either—more like walking on clouds, which should have felt comfortable, but he didn’t know which step might give way, causing him to fall from the skies into a bottomless abyss.
After a long time, he finally spoke and asked Meng Fu: “Meng Fu, why did you suddenly want to separate from me?”
“Why did I want to separate?” Meng Fu looked up at the heavy sky above. The evening breeze stirred the strands of hair at her temples, and the bright moonlight spilled onto her face like flowing water. She said:
“Perhaps it’s because there is no bird that doesn’t want to fly out of the cage.”
For many years in the past, Meng Fu had been locked in this enormous cage. She had already forgotten that she was actually a bird, forgotten that there was a pair of wings behind her back, forgotten how much she longed to fly freely toward the blue sky.
Xie Wenzhao furrowed his brows, his expression complex. He understood what Meng Fu meant, but he still felt that Meng Fu was somewhat mad.
She thought of herself as a caged bird? She thought she would live better after flying out of the cage? In this world, wouldn’t she still end up being locked inside another cage?
Meng Fu was not a foolish person. She ought to know what kind of environment lay outside the cage—yet she still wanted to go out.
Xie Wenzhao didn’t want to try persuading anything either. After all, this separation between them, for him, was also like breaking free from an iron cage.