After Encountering My Deceased Wife, I Became the Male Lead's Love Rival - Chapter 70

Chapter 70: Lingyun

In the second year of the Sheng-Yun era, the foreign tribes were gradually pacified, and the empire of Sheng-Yun showed the first signs of a flourishing age.

Rumors of a concubine selection began to spread from the palace. Families of all ranks used every means possible to pull strings, breaking their necks in the rush to shove their daughters into that man-eating, bone-chilling harem.

Only the Suian Marquis Manor was shrouded in a cloud of gloom.

The Suian Marquis had originally been a mere farmer in the fields. Later, he followed the current Emperor through various northern and southern campaigns, beheading a corrupt tyrant and supporting the founding of the great enterprise. For his merit in “assisting the dragon,” he was enfeoffed as a Marquis.

He had a family of three sons and one daughter. The youngest daughter had been clever and quick-witted since childhood, possessing a breathtaking beauty. Let alone in the capital, one could likely find no one to surpass her looks in the entire world.

But now, this beautiful face had become a death warrant.

“The prosperous age is coming to peace, but His Majesty’s health is declining day by day. Choosing concubines at this critical juncture—I wonder which ‘filial son’ or ‘loyal official’ came up with this rotten idea?”

Trusting that the manor was heavily guarded and free of outsiders, Fang Ziyue spoke without fear of eavesdroppers.

She sneered: “His Majesty abolished the National Preceptor long ago and doesn’t believe in gods or ghosts. So what kind of farce is this supposed to be?”

Don’t tell her it’s to “bring good luck to cure illness”; she didn’t believe in that nonsense. With that time and energy, they would be better off finding a few more doctors to actually treat the disease.

Knowing his child’s temperament, the Suian Marquis still couldn’t help but scold: “How bold of you! How dare you wag your tongue about His Majesty’s affairs!”

Fang Ziyue didn’t care. Don’t think she didn’t know—those words hit her father right in the heart. Her father was only fierce in speech; in reality, wasn’t he desperately trying to find a way to help his precious daughter escape the fate of entering the palace?

“In my opinion, the foreign tribes are showing signs of trouble at the border again. Father, why not let Little Sister go with you to the campaign?” Fang Ziyue’s eldest brother loved business and loathed martial arts. Though he disliked dancing with swords and spears, he excelled in coming up with clever schemes.

The refined man set down his teacup and smiled: “In Sheng-Yun, both men and women can enter the army as generals. Moreover, the Marquis Manor is a house of generals. I prefer trade, the second brother follows the path of letters, and the third brother loves freedom and became a traveling doctor like Mother. The heavy burden of upholding the family’s martial legacy must fall on Little Sister’s shoulders.”

A tiger father does not have dogs for sons, but unfortunately, the Suian Marquis’s three sons each had a very stubborn mind of their own. None of them liked martial arts. The Marquis and his wife loved their children dearly and allowed them to do what they liked. Unexpectedly, this indulgence had now become the perfect excuse to bail Fang Ziyue out.

Hearing this, the Suian Marquis clapped his hands and laughed loudly: “Good lad! You’re the one with the cleverest tricks!”

The eldest brother couldn’t help but press his palm to his forehead. His father was always like this—every time he praised someone, it sounded like he was cursing.

Fang Ziyue, however, remained silent, pondering the plan. She liked martial arts, it was true, but she didn’t want to leave the capital just yet. Recalling that frail silhouette in her heart, Fang Ziyue couldn’t help but ask: “Father, when do we set out for the border city?”

“The seventh day of next month. Once the snow on Lingyun Peak melts a little, the army can move.”

Lingyun Peak was the only path to the border city, but every winter, the snow would be as high as a man. The soldiers from the capital couldn’t cross, and the foreign tribes couldn’t attack. They simply waited for the snow to melt to see who got there first; that determines whose territory the border city would be. However, the border had been guarded by the Suian Marquis’s fierce generals and had been peaceful for years. Last year’s heavy snow led to a shortage of grain for the foreign tribes, sparking their intent to attack.

“So soon?” Fang Ziyue was stunned. By her count, it was only ten days away.

Feeling anxious, she stood up and ran out. Even from a distance, her shouting could be heard: “Father, Brother, I won’t be eating at home tonight, don’t wait for me!”

The teacup in the Marquis’s hand almost went flying, but the brat ran too fast. Before he could aim, she was gone.

The eldest brother shook his head and sighed: “A daughter grown is like water splashed out.”

The Marquis snorted coldly: “Splashed out? I see her sneaking over people’s walls every day, wishing she could just tie up and kidnap that innocent lady next door!”

For a dignified Marquis’s daughter to act like a common thief every day—how was that proper?!

“You should speak to your scoundrel sister too. Always being handsy with that girl—what kind of conduct is that?!” The Marquis grew angrier as he thought about it.

Right next door was the Right Prime Minister’s manor. That old man with the heart of a wolf had a kind and capable eldest daughter, though she had lost her mother young and was poisoned blind by a concubine. His own brat took advantage of the fact that the girl was good-tempered and blind, staring at her like a mangy dog that had found a bone!

Seeing this, the eldest brother quickly soothed his father to calm down. If his father kept cursing, wouldn’t he be cursing himself too? Not necessary, not necessary.

Fang Ziyue knew her father wanted to deal with her, so she sprinted to the back garden. In a place overgrown with wild grass, she kicked off the wall a few times and scaled a wall several men high. Sensing no one around, she imitated a bird’s call twice.

The Right Prime Minister’s manor was filled with plants and flowers year-round. The Right Prime Minister was a hollow old man who loved to put on a show. He planted a bunch of rice crops, claiming he wanted to personally experience the hardships of the common people to remind himself to love the people like his children and respect the Sovereign like a father.

Pfft. Everyone knew those crops were managed by servants. Aside from attracting countless birds, no one had seen the Right Prime Minister loosen his oily fingers to drop a few copper coins for the poor.

In contrast, his unfavored eldest daughter, Ling Qiu—who had been shoved into a desolate, remote courtyard—would occasionally put on a veil and go out incognito to treat the poor.

“Creak~” A simple wooden door not far from the wall was pushed open. A nimble little maid beckoned Fang Ziyue, who was perched on the wall, signaling her to enter quickly.

Fang Ziyue took the hint, leapt down, and slipped into the room. The maid hurriedly closed the door, not forgetting to peer cautiously through the crack to see if anyone had noticed. Although her young mistress was the legitimate daughter of the Right Prime Minister, she was blind and unfavored, yet the concubine-turned-wife dared not relax her guard. She sent people to monitor Ling Qiu’s every move daily, fearing she might suddenly do something to threaten the status of herself or her own daughter.

Passing through two woodsheds and lifting a heavy curtain, Fang Ziyue finally truly entered Ling Qiu’s private courtyard. Turning a corner past high wooden boards, Fang Ziyue ducked like the wind into a clean, fragrant room.

The room was filled with the scent of herbs. Through a slightly open window, a branch of red plum blossoms reached in; the blossoms fell upon the desk, brushing a cold fragrance onto the person dressed in moon-white robes.

The woman sitting on the soft couch turned her head at the sound. A long white silk band covered her eyes, embroidered with dark orchid patterns—as refined and elegant as her person.

“Why have you come so early today?” Ling Qiu spoke with a gentle, unhurried voice.

Fang Ziyue loved listening to her speak and always teased her into saying more. “Guess?”

The little “roguish” daughter of the Marquis sat beside the beauty. Taking advantage of the other’s blindness, she lifted a strand of Ling Qiu’s waist-length hair to her nose and inhaled softly. The cool, smooth hair carried a cold fragrance—not heavy, not overwhelming, but deeply evocative.

Though Ling Qiu could not see, she knew the other had this small quirk. Since it was an innocuous habit and the little Marquis’s daughter wouldn’t go too far, Ling Qiu didn’t bother to stop her.

“Could it be you’ve made the Marquis angry again?” Ling Qiu teased, intentionally guessing wrong.

Sure enough, the restless girl immediately defended herself loudly: “No way! How could I make him angry? I’m so well-behaved!”

“Well-behaved?” Ling Qiu, her eyes covered, shook her head with a smile that was gentle and warm.

This girl was four years younger than her, yet their temperaments were worlds apart. Ling Qiu loved stillness; Fang Ziyue loved movement. Since their homes were close, Fang Ziyue was often chased by the Marquis after making him angry, eventually scurrying like a grey mouse to Ling Qiu’s place for refuge.

The refined woman reached out, fumbled to find the other’s face, and with Fang Ziyue’s deliberate help, lightly tapped her forehead. “How is this mischievous manner ‘well-behaved’?”

Because she spent her years at home studying medicine and books, Ling Qiu’s body was frail and her voice low and soft. Even her scoldings were full of indulgence.

They say a beauty’s favor is a soul-melting bone; a “gentle trap” is the hardest to escape. Fang Ziyue propped up her face and stared at her dotingly, feeling that she was likely beyond saving—she had fallen completely.

Looking at the other’s pale pink lips, fair skin, and exquisite features—eyebrows like distant mountains curved with gentleness and smiles—Fang Ziyue’s head grew hot, and she blurted out: “Ling Qiu, I like you. Marry me.”

Ling Qiu, sitting upright, paused in the middle of closing her book. Then, her lips curved into a faint smile. “Nonsense again.”

She fumbled to set the book on the table, poured a cup of hot tea, and handed it over. “Drink some clear tea to clear the muddled air in your head. Why are you losing your wits again?”

The walls of the teacup were thin, and the heat of the water turned Ling Qiu’s fingertips red, yet she did not let go. She couldn’t see; if she let go and scalded the restless girl, it would be bad.

Fang Ziyue snapped back to her senses, hurriedly took the tea and set it aside, then held Ling Qiu’s slender, cool fingers in her hand. “You knew it was hot, why didn’t you let go?!”

Words of urgency and mild scolding were followed by cool breaths blown onto Ling Qiu’s reddened fingertips. The woman in moon-white robes trembled instinctively. She tried to pull her hand back, but in her frail, sedentary state, she was no match for Fang Ziyue, who practiced with weapons.

Her struggle seemed to Fang Ziyue like a kitten scratching with soft paws; aside from making one’s heart itch, it was ineffective. Fang Ziyue blew on Ling Qiu’s fingertips distressedly and rubbed them gently, only stopping out of mercy when the other’s earlobes had flushed red.

Ling Qiu, who had been biting her lip in endurance, sighed in plea. “Ziyue, please spare me this once. There won’t be a next time; I will take proper care of myself.”

She hadn’t felt it before, but since the girl reached adulthood, Ling Qiu found her temperament had become quite domineering. Whenever she discovered Ling Qiu hadn’t taken care of herself, she wouldn’t scold or lecture; she would simply do something like this that Ling Qiu found difficult to endure. It wasn’t humiliation or coercion; it was a heart full of sincerity that was so hot Ling Qiu could only dodge in embarrassment.

“I’m not used to the name ‘Fang Ziyue.’ Sister Ling, what should you call me?” Fang Ziyue held Ling Qiu’s fingertips, pressing closer.

She pressed so hard that tiny beads of sweat appeared on Ling Qiu’s nose. No matter how much she tried to show weakness, the domineering girl would not let go. She forced the gentle, soft Ling Qiu to speak in a low, trembling voice: “Ling… Lingyun.”

Fang Ziyue, the youngest daughter of the Suian Marquis Manor, had the courtesy name Lingyun. Outsiders called her Commandery Princess Lingyun.

But few knew that the name Lingyun was given to her by the eldest daughter of the Right Prime Minister—the man who was the Suian Marquis’s greatest rival.

Ambition to reach the clouds, talent of ten thousand fathoms.

From their first meeting, Ling Qiu knew that this Marquis’s daughter was a crouching dragon in a pond. Once she awakened, she would naturally soar through the clouds into the sea, achieving success across ten thousand miles.

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