The Night Before the Divorce, She Was Reborn to Before Her Marriage - Chapter 59

Ning Fu looked at Prince Jin. Though he wore a smile, his words carried no hint of a jest.

In her past life, she had known very little about the dealings between her grandmother and Prince Jin, let alone his grandson.

“Marriage is a grave matter that requires careful thought,” Ning Fu said. “I’m afraid I cannot make such a decision immediately.”

Prince Jin replied, “Though I am rarely in the capital, my house is a fitting match for the Duke of Ning’s mansion. Combined with your grandmother’s connection, the Prince Jin estate will certainly not mistreat you.”

Ning Fu weighed this in her mind. Prince Jin was royalty, and if managed well, this life wouldn’t necessarily end in the same ruin as her last. A solid alliance between him and the Princess Mansion could ensure future safety. Furthermore, Prince Jin’s military power could be a significant asset for her brother’s future.

Purely from a strategic standpoint, this was a decent trade. But the immediate priority was saving her grandmother.

“Afu, you must know that if I intentionally stir up a border conflict, it is a capital offense,” Prince Jin said meaningfully. “Without sufficient benefit, I have no desire to take such a risk.”

Ning Fu lowered her eyes. She needed to find a motive worthy of such a gamble.

That afternoon, a troop of riders arrived, kicking up clouds of dust. The man at the lead was stern and rugged—not classically handsome, but powerful and seasoned by war. Unlike the elegant lords of the Prince of Xuan’s house, this man was a typical hardened soldier.

“Grandfather,” the man said, dismounting and bowing.

“Shen’er, you’ve returned,” Prince Jin said with relief.

Meng Shen reported, “The individuals illegally selling government salt have been captured. I await your judgment, Grandfather.”

“We shall set that aside for now. We have a guest—this is Afu, the granddaughter of Grand Princess Kangyang.”

Meng Shen glanced at Ning Fu, his expression cold and detached. Ning Fu offered only a distant, polite greeting.

Cousin Jingcheng, however, looked uneasy. Once they were alone, she grabbed Ning Fu’s hand. “Dear sister, you cannot marry him!”

“Why?” Ning Fu asked. On paper, Meng Shen seemed a fine match.

Jingcheng whispered, “You might not know this in the capital, but everyone here does—Meng Shen prefers the company of men. Marrying him would ruin your life.”

Before Ning Fu could respond, she saw Meng Shen standing nearby, watching her with a dark, chilling gaze. Jingcheng recoiled, not daring to say more.

Two days later, Ning Fu stepped out of her tent to find Meng Shen waiting. He got straight to the point. “I need a fiancé to serve as a cover for my reputation. I assume you are desperate to save your grandmother. We can hold an engagement ceremony now and find an excuse to break it off later.”

He seemed strangely eager. Ning Fu blinked. If it was a fake engagement, it seemed like a perfect solution to her current crisis. Yet, it felt almost too convenient.

It was only a few days later that she learned the true reason: Meng Shen’s mother, Meng Ying, had fallen deathly ill from worrying over his lack of a wife. Prince Jin hoped Ning Fu’s beauty might “correct” Meng Shen’s orientation. Hearing that her son had finally agreed to a match, Meng Ying’s health miraculously improved enough for her to leave her bed. Fearing the girl might change her mind, she scheduled the engagement banquet for just a few days away.

“I have written to my mother,” Ning Fu lied to Meng Ying, knowing her mother would be horrified if she knew the truth of this “engagement.”

Zong Si was prepared to leave the following day, only to receive a formal invitation to the banquet.

Commander Qu Yang looked at Zong Si’s indifferent face. “That Meng Shen is known for his ‘Longyang’ preferences. Why would the Fourth Lady marry him?”

Zong Si remained silent.

“Prince Jin’s personal invitation is hard to refuse, but I fear that old fox Kangyang is plotting with him to trap you, my Lord,” Qu Yang added.

Zong Si mused for a moment. “You and Yue Niang stay in Yongzhou. I will go alone. If I am not back by the day after tomorrow, return to the capital and report. Prince Jin does not dare touch me.”

When Zong Si arrived at the camp, he found it decorated with red silk and lanterns—a rustic but earnest effort at a celebration.

“Since the Heir was in Yongzhou, I thought it best you bear witness,” Prince Jin said cheerfully.

“The journey was short,” Zong Si replied smoothly. “I came to share in the joy.”

Zong Si wore his usual mask, his true emotions impossible to decipher. He was shown to a tent, but on the way, he ran into Jingcheng. She quickly scurried to his side.

“Meng Shen will not be a good husband. A man who loves men has no room for a wife,” Jingcheng whispered urgently. “Afu only agreed to this to save Grandmother. Won’t you find a way to take her away?”

“That is the Fourth Lady’s business,” Zong Si said heartlessly. “If she does not care about her own suffering, what does it have to do with me?”

“Then can you contact Lord Lu? Let him take her,” Jingcheng pleaded. “I could even take her place! I’ve known Meng Shen since childhood; it would be better than Afu sacrificing herself.”

Zong Si ignored her, his expression turning cold. At the mention of Lu Xingzhi, a flicker of irritation crossed his eyes. He walked away with a chilling indifference.

Ning Fu ran into Zong Si as she returned from Meng Ying’s tent. Against the backdrop of the rugged soldiers, his refined beauty was even more striking—tall, broad-shouldered, and perfectly proportioned.

She was carrying a basket of rare melons given to her by Meng Ying. Remembering that Zong Si had allowed Qu Yang to take her to see her grandmother, she offered him one. “Try this, Heir. The temperature fluctuates greatly here; the fruit is sweeter than in the capital.”

Zong Si simply looked at her. “Congratulations.”

Ning Fu said nothing.

“He likes men, and he has a lover,” Zong Si said flatly after a moment. “If you marry him, your hearts will never be one.”

Ning Fu smiled. “That is not for the Heir to worry about.”

“We are… acquainted. You should know that if you marry him, you will not only lack a husband’s love, you will spend your days and nights competing with other men for his attention,” Zong Si said. He only spoke because of their “past ties”—he didn’t wish to see her fall into such a pit.

Ning Fu, tired of his hollow concern, said, “I have made my choice and my preparations. I find nothing wrong with it.”

“If you think it’s good, then fine,” Zong Si replied coldly, turning to leave.

The next morning, as Zong Si stepped out of his tent, he saw a young, handsome man being carried out of Meng Shen’s tent. The youth was disheveled, covered in bruises and red marks from mistreatment, his breath faint.

Zong Si’s eyes met Meng Shen’s. In the depths of the other man’s gaze, he saw a hidden provocation.

“Was this the Grand Princess’s idea?” Zong Si asked calmly.

Meng Shen remained silent.

Zong Si realized then: Kangyang and Prince Jin were old allies with deep shared interests. They didn’t need a marriage to seal a bond. Using Ning Fu was a feint—Xiang Zhuang performing the sword dance, but aiming for the Duke of Pei. He, Zong Si, was the Duke of Pei.

Prince Jin’s deployment of troops to save Kangyang was risky for him. It was much better to force the Prince of Xuan’s mansion to step in and take the blame for “failing the Emperor’s mission.”

But Kangyang had miscalculated. Zong Si had warned Ning Fu; what she chose was up to her. He would not stop the wedding, nor would he trade the interests of his house for her freedom.

“To the Grand Princess, the Heir is no match if she sets her mind on a goal,” Meng Shen said. “And I am not entirely incapable of accepting a woman. There are… ways.”

The engagement banquet was modest but lively, filled with military officers. Ning Fu looked stunning in a red dress Prince Jin had provided; the crimson hue emphasized her porcelain skin.

“Shen’er, Afu is a good girl. Live well and stop your wild ways,” Meng Ying urged.

Meng Shen grabbed Ning Fu’s wrist. Irritated by his mother’s words, he squeezed hard. Though it hurt, Ning Fu didn’t make a sound. When he let go, her wrist was marred by a vivid red mark.

“Of course,” Meng Shen said coldly.

Zong Si watched with an indifferent gaze. The soldiers drank strong liquor. After just half a bowl, Ning Fu felt a haze of intoxication.

She looked at the calculating Prince Jin and the brooding Meng Shen. A sense of wrongness washed over her. Why was the offer of a ‘fake’ engagement so perfectly timed?

Meng Shen stared at Ning Fu, then looked at Zong Si. In front of him, Meng Shen swallowed a pill, then forced another into the intoxicated Ning Fu’s mouth. He gave Zong Si a cold, mocking smirk.

Zong Si’s expression didn’t change.

“Continue, everyone,” Meng Shen said, lifting Ning Fu into his arms. “Afu is drunk. I’ll take her to rest.”

The drug was taking effect—a surge of uncontrollable, savage desire. The aphrodisiac worked on men and women alike; it stripped away reason and left only raw instinct. Two people under the influence, alone in a room… it was a test to see if Zong Si could truly stand by and watch.

Jingcheng stood up to follow but was blocked by guards outside the tent.

Zong Si remained seated, composed, though a hint of coldness finally touched the depths of his eyes.

Prince Jin wore a mysterious expression. “The drug takes effect in fifteen minutes. If the Heir truly doesn’t care, I don’t mind having Afu as a granddaughter-in-law. It’s a good match. As for Shen’er’s temper… I’ll keep him in check as long as I’m alive.”

And after he was gone? It was an impossible life. This was a forced choice: Zong Si could still take her away now. Kangyang was gambling Ning Fu’s entire life on the hope that Zong Si couldn’t bear it.

“What happens to her is no concern of mine,” Zong Si said coldly. He loathed being manipulated.

“Kangyang has always been one to accept her losses,” Prince Jin said slowly. “If the Heir truly feels that way, you may leave.”

Zong Si walked out of the camp. Hearing his footsteps, Jingcheng looked back. His face was grim, his steps momentarily hesitant.

Inside the tent, Ning Fu’s voice drifted out—a soft, hazy call: “Husband…”

Zong Si’s footsteps came to a dead halt.

Ning Fu was dreaming. She dreamt of her wedding night in her past life. Zong Si walked in, lifted her red veil, and slowly unbuttoned her dress, pressing her into the soft bed. The sound of his heavy breathing made her flush.

Then, Zong Si’s face blurred into Lu Xingzhi’s. His brow was furrowed, his eyes filled with sorrow and pain. He was calling her “Afu,” begging for forgiveness, saying he was wrong. But why would Lu Xingzhi owe her anything?

“Lord Lu?” she whispered, her voice breathy and unnervingly seductive.

The man above her froze. The slight flush on his ears vanished instantly. There was nothing more dampening to a mood than hearing another man’s name at such a moment.

Ning Fu’s consciousness returned. She remembered now: Zong Si and she had never actually consummated their marriage on their wedding night.

She opened her eyes. She saw Zong Si’s eyes—intense, dark with desire, inquiry, and a trace of lingering resentment.

“Lord Lu?” Zong Si said softly. “You certainly remember him well. Unfortunately, I’m the only one here.”

He had walked into this trap for her, yet she only remembered others.

Zong Si wasn’t just angry; his heart felt a strange, dull ache. Ning Fu closed her eyes, her lashes trembling.

“Did you have a hand in your grandmother’s scheme to trap me?” Zong Si asked, gripping her chin and staring at her.

Ning Fu understood it all now. The marriage proposal was a ruse to draw Zong Si in. Her grandmother had likely seen their private meetings and assumed they were already compromised. She was using Ning Fu as bait—and if Zong Si took the bait, he’d have to pay the price: the Prince of Xuan’s house would have to take responsibility for the Li Fang affair.

“Think whatever you want,” Ning Fu said wearily.