Waking Up to an Imperial Marriage with My Archenemy - Chapter 22

Qiao Wan returned to her room to change before heading out with an air of casual elegance. This time, Luo Fengxin did not follow her. Instead, the Princess pretended to have business in the palace, sending only two maids to keep an eye on Qiao Wan.

Upon exiting the Princess’s Estate, Qiao Wan’s eyes swept over two men loitering at a street corner. One of them nudged his companion with an elbow when he saw her. Qiao Wan gave them a subtle look, and the two took the hint, immediately falling into step behind her party.

Qiao Wan was in no hurry to meet Zhang Zihe. Accompanied by her two maids and her two shadows, she first went to pay a visit to Jin Yanzhou.

The words she had previously whispered to Yue Xiu for Zhang Zihe’s ears weren’t entirely fabrication. After Jin Yanzhou resigned, Qiao Wan, as his student, had visited him and proposed the idea of splitting the Censorate into two. At the time, Jin Yanzhou had neither agreed nor disagreed, merely stating he needed time to reflect.

“Teacher,” Qiao Wan greeted Jin Yanzhou with a respectful bow.

“You’ve come,” Jin Yanzhou said, standing in the center of the main hall as he gestured for her to rise.

He was sixty-six years old. Qiao Wan remembered seeing him at Luo Jinhe’s coronation; back then, his hair was only streaked with grey, and he stood straight and sturdy. But when she saw him again after her recovery, his hair had turned entirely white. Now, only half a month later, he had developed a slight slouch, and the full weight of old age had settled upon him.

In just over a month, Jin Yanzhou had aged decades. Seeing this transformation, Qiao Wan felt a sharp pang of sorrow.

Jin Yanzhou was not a member of the Crown Prince’s faction. When the struggle for the throne was at its peak and civil and military officials were picking sides, he remained a loyal servant of the state, acting only for the benefit of the nation and its people.

Throughout his years in office, he remained incorruptible; even this modest residence was a gift from the late Emperor. The only decorations in his home were ordinary plants and scrolls of calligraphy and painting—most of which were his own work or gifts from friends, none of them from famous masters or worth much money.

Now, as Qiao Wan surveyed the room, even those scrolls and plants had been packed away. The house felt hollow.

“Teacher, are you truly determined to leave?” Qiao Wan asked softly.

His resignation pained her deeply. From a public perspective, the departure of such an official was a massive loss to the state and the people. From a personal one, Jin Yanzhou had guided Qiao Wan for years, acting as both a mentor and a father figure. She was loath to see him go.

“I am old, and my mind is muddled,” Jin Yanzhou’s voice was raspy and trembling, lacking his former vigor. “I no longer have the face to remain here.”

“Teacher, His Majesty has never blamed you.” Qiao Wan tried to console him. When she first heard of his sudden resignation, she suspected foul play. She later learned the Empress Dowager’s faction had kidnapped Jin Yanzhou’s son to blackmail him.

A similar tragedy had occurred twenty years ago. The role of a Censor was a magnet for enemies; back then, a rival had kidnapped Jin Yanzhou’s first wife. That proud, fierce woman refused to let her husband compromise his integrity and committed suicide to prove her resolve, leaving behind an eight-year-old son.

Witnessing his mother’s tragic death had driven the young boy into madness. Years of treatment had yielded little result; now in his thirties, Jin Wenhan still possessed the mind of a small child.

“Even if His Majesty does not blame me, I cannot overcome the hurdle in my own heart. To keep my resolve steady that day, your late teacher-mother willingly went to her death. Now, I have committed such a catastrophic error. How can I ever face her in the afterlife?”

At the memory of his late wife, Jin Yanzhou’s voice broke, and he wept. He had never remarried, and this simple-minded son was his only child. Upon learning the boy had fallen into enemy hands, his heart had finally buckled.

“Sister, tea! Father, tea!” A figure came flying in from outside, carrying a tray. Most of the water in the cups had already splashed out.

This was Jin Wenhan. He had soft features and a handsome face. Qiao Wan had never met his mother, but she felt Wenhan must resemble her. Had he not been a “child of innocence,” he surely would have grown into a refined gentleman under his father’s tutelage.

What a waste, Qiao Wan thought.

She didn’t blame Jin Yanzhou; she blamed those who weaponized power for their own ends. She couldn’t cure Jin Wenhan’s mind, but she had carved the debt of those who coerced this loyal official into her memory. Sooner or later, she would make them pay.

“Young Master, Young Master!” An older servant, Uncle Zhang, came rushing in behind him, apologizing profusely to Qiao Wan. “My apologies, I looked away for a second and he snatched the tray. Please wait, I’ll brew a fresh cup for you.”

“There’s no need, Uncle Zhang.” Qiao Wan took the cup that still held a small amount of tea and said softly to Jin Wenhan, “Thank you.”

Seeing her take the cup, Jin Wenhan smiled brightly and brought the tray to his father. Jin Yanzhou turned his face away, unwilling to look. Wenhan offered the tea several times, and seeing his father refuse to acknowledge him, his expression became anxious and troubled.

“Teacher,” Qiao Wan called out, unable to bear the sight.

Jin Yanzhou wiped his face, took the cup, and forced a smile for his son. “Good boy. Go play with Uncle Zhang now.”

Once they left, the hall was once again occupied only by the teacher and student. The two maids sent by Luo Fengxin remained waiting outside.

Jin Yanzhou stared at the doorway where his son had vanished, then said suddenly, “I have carefully considered the idea you proposed. Although I do not agree with your initial motives, this suggestion may indeed be a good thing for the country. I shall go to the palace shortly to bid His Majesty farewell and present your suggestion. Then, I will begin my journey back to my ancestral home.”

“Why such a rush?” Qiao Wan was startled. “Traveling at night is difficult; at least wait until tomorrow morning.”

Jin Yanzhou shook his head. “The matters here are concluded. There is nothing left to stay for. It is better to return home early.”

Seeing his mind was made up, Qiao Wan did not press further.

Exiting the Jin residence, Qiao Wan spotted Zhang Zihe’s two shifty-looking subordinates in the distance.

Having just seen Jin Wenhan, and then looking at the brainless, foppish Zhang Zihe, she felt a wave of irritation. Some people possessed perfectly healthy brains yet spent their lives doing nothing but chasing trivialities and causing trouble—they really ought to donate them to those in need!

As much as she wanted to ignore the fool, she had to continue the ruse. Qiao Wan took a breath, adjusted her expression, and headed toward the West Market.

The West Market was crowded. Qiao Wan ducked and weaved through the throngs, quickly losing the two maids pretending to watch her, and successfully rendezvoused with Zhang Zihe.

“Ah, you finally came! I’ve been waiting for days, I was worried sick!” Inside a private booth at a teahouse, Zhang Zihe downed a large cup of tea. He had been so anxious lately that a cluster of stress-induced sores had broken out around his mouth.

“Luo Fengxin has been watching me like a hawk; there was simply no way.” Qiao Wan poured herself a cup, though unlike the frantic Zhang, she merely took a dainty sip. “You mentioned Zheng Wei scolded you?”

“Yes!” Zhang Zihe’s anger flared up again. “I did exactly what you told me to, and he promised he’d help. Then what? I saw that days had passed with no news, so I went to ask him, and he actually cursed me out!”

Qiao Wan listened to his long-winded complaints without interruption. Finally, she spoke: “In that case, he likely did try to ask for you, but the Empress Dowager refused. She probably even reprimanded him, and he took his frustration out on you.”

Zhang Zihe, who had been baffled for days, felt a sudden clarity. He cried out, “No wonder he started shouting at me for no reason! It’s because he lost face himself!”

“Shh—keep your voice down.” Qiao Wan was exasperated. This was a public teahouse; did he want the whole world to hear?

He wasn’t much to look at to begin with, but with the sores on his face, he was an eyesore and his intelligence was even more “impressive.” Qiao Wan felt that working for such a person, even in a charade, was draining. She needed to go back to Luo Fengxin to cleanse her eyes and perhaps ask her brother for “workplace injury” compensation.

“Oh, right!” Reminded by Qiao Wan, Zhang Zihe finally lowered his voice. “So, what do we do now?”

Qiao Wan slowly swirled the tea in her cup, pretending to deep in thought. Just as Zhang Zihe was about to burst with a second question, she set the cup down and looked up.

“I have another idea.”

Author’s Note: Qiao Wan: I’m exhausted.

Luo Fengxin (opening her arms): Come here, let me give you a hug!

Qiao Wan: [Ignores her and walks straight to the recliner to soak up the AC]

Luo Fengxin: Someone! Tear this pavilion down immediately!