The Night Before the Divorce, She Was Reborn to Before Her Marriage - Chapter 60

Ning Fu was too exhausted, too drained; she simply decided to let things take their course, consequences be damned.

Zong Si remained silent for a long while, continuing with her in those most intimate and lingering acts. When it finally ended, Ning Fu lay with her eyes closed, breathing softly, only then hearing him speak in a detached voice.

“I loathe being manipulated above all else, and even more, I loathe…”

He paused, leaving the sentence unfinished. He loathed being set up, taking the bait, and then having to hear her call out for “Lord Lu” over and over again.

Ning Fu’s eyelids felt heavy enough to drop. She pushed him away, offering a weak retort: “Does the Heir think I enjoy being a pawn in a scheme?”

She hadn’t expected to be a link in the calculation herself. She felt a mix of anger and resentment, yet she didn’t even know whom to direct it toward. Should she blame her grandmother? She did, but what good would it do now?

She had suspected Meng Shen and Prince Jin might have ulterior motives, but she had naively assumed they would show some modicum of respect for her grandmother’s position. She never imagined the mastermind behind the curtain was her grandmother herself.

“Besides, the Heir seemed quite enthusiastic,” she noted lethargically.

Indeed, the essence of a man does not change. In their past life, even though he didn’t love her, he never refused to share her bed. This life was proving to be no different.

At her words, the tips of Zong Si’s ears turned a faint red, and his gaze shifted with complexity. He had compromised because of that single cry of “Husband.” He couldn’t bear to see her body taken by a man like Meng Shen, ruining her entire life in this cycle.

However, he hadn’t expected that matters between a man and a woman would be far more intoxicating than he had imagined. The moment he thought of Lu Xingzhi again, the small trace of pity in his heart vanished, replaced by a surge of unrestrained possessiveness.

“Why are you so angry?” Ning Fu, pushed to her limit, finally snapped.

Zong Si thought to himself: Anyone who was called by another man’s name at a time like this would be angry.

He said nothing, merely continuing his labors with silent intensity. This was a man tasting such fruit for the first time; despite his high-and-mighty status, he still possessed a touch of greenness. In moments like these, total calm and self-restraint were impossible to maintain.

Ning Fu, having lived through a previous life, was naturally more experienced by comparison. She was far less bashful about the act than he was. Eventually, the weight of her first experience in this life took its toll. She wanted nothing more than a deep sleep, and the moment the urge hit, she drifted off instantly.

As for the rest—whatever comes, comes. She had at least learned a lesson: even with someone as close as her grandmother, one must remain vigilant. From a personal standpoint, everyone’s motives differ; even if the intent isn’t malicious, it doesn’t mean they won’t use you.

As Zong Si watched her sleep, he thought back to his meeting with Princess Kangyang an hour prior. She had shown no sign of distress, sitting composed at the highest seat in the tent. “Sit,” she had commanded.

Zong Si had made no effort to hide the chilling frost in his eyes, nor did he speak first.

“The first day you arrived in Yongzhou, Jingcheng invited you to the West Court in Afu’s name. I arranged that,” Kangyang said, no longer bothering with pretenses. “I used the excuse of Afu being ill to see if you would come. To my surprise, you actually did.”

“It was then that I sensed something was off. At the time, I didn’t yet know Li Fang’s situation was Emperor Jingwen’s doing, and I hadn’t planned to trap you yet. But later, when you appeared in Afu’s bedchamber… well, it made one think,” Kangyang continued.

Zong Si understood her meaning. She had likely assumed Ning Fu liked him and decided to hand him over to her like a plaything. This business with Meng Shen was a gamble on whether he would be soft-hearted.

Zong Si also realized that forcing the House of Xuan to take the fall for the “failure” in the Li Fang case was a long-premeditated move. Prince Jin was her safety net, but she wouldn’t risk his troops unless absolutely necessary. Testing Zong Si and trapping the House of Xuan were dual objectives.

“The Grand Princess has quite the strategy,” Zong Si smirked hollowly.

“It’s not just my strategy. Did you truly not guess it, Heir? Even before you came to this engagement banquet, you likely had an inkling of what was happening. Why did you still come? You know why better than anyone.”

Kangyang’s words were a blatant provocation, dragging his hidden, unspeakable thoughts into the light.

Zong Si’s expression was icy. “I do not adore the Fourth Lady. I merely pity her.” That bit of old sentiment made him feel for her; if she truly followed Meng Shen, her life would be destroyed. As her husband from a past life, while he had no plan to meticulously map out her future, he wouldn’t stand by and watch her be ruined.

“I shall thank the Heir in advance regarding the Li Fang matter,” Kangyang smiled with the serene composure of a victor. “I have prepared the carriage for your departure tomorrow. Yue Niang and Commander Qu Yang will be waiting for you.”

Emperor Jingwen had already been pressing him. Now that Zong Si had “spoiled” the Emperor’s plan to destroy Kangyang, he couldn’t delay any longer. He had to return to the capital to report, take responsibility, and accept his punishment.

Zong Si pulled himself back to the present. Ning Fu was still sleeping deeply.

In this desert region, the wind swirled dust against the outside of the tent with a muffled, heavy thud. Upon his return to the capital, the Emperor would certainly use this chance to suppress the House of Xuan—all because of the decision he made tonight.

Zong Si felt a flicker of uncertainty. Was this decision too impulsive? Rationally, it was a disaster. However, this was his first foray into such intimate matters, and the lingering warmth of their closeness made a sudden heat rise within him again.

When he reached out to pull the quilt up for her, Ning Fu’s hand moved to block him. He caught her slender wrist in his right hand, holding it firm. His thumb brushed over her skin—a gesture both affectionate and hesitant. He felt a trace of renewed desire, but he wasn’t sure if he should let the mistake continue.

“If the Heir doesn’t want me to cling to him, it’s best to keep your distance,” Ning Fu said, having woken up. She sounded annoyed and had no interest in entertaining him.

“Sleep,” he said after a silence, his desire cooling at her dismissive attitude.

By the early hours of the morning, the faint scent of gardenias from the bedding became overwhelmingly sensitive to him. Ning Fu felt a soft kiss on her lips in her dreams. Outside, the sound of footsteps began; the soldiers were starting their early drills.

Ning Fu bit his lip—a clear sign of rejection—but to Zong Si, it felt like a playful provocation. He deepened the kiss, his face and ears burning hot.

A quarter-hour later, Zong Si rose and dressed. The morning light filtered through the gaps in the tent, casting a pale glow on his detached features.

“I must return to the capital today,” Zong Si said. “If anything happens, you may write to me.”

As he detached himself from the intimacy of the night, that faint, signature air of distant indifference returned to his voice. Had she been a typical sheltered lady experiencing her first time, such a cold transition would have left her heart aching with bitterness.

Fortunately, she wasn’t. She knew exactly how much resentment and unwillingess was brewing in his heart. A man who hated being manipulated had been backed into a corner.

“Regarding your grandmother, I accept the loss,” Zong Si mused for a moment. “As for the rest…” He hadn’t quite made up his mind yet.

“The rest can wait until you return to the capital. We will speak then,” he finally concluded.