Fifteen days passed in the blink of an eye. Zhao Ling had not returned, only sending a brief letter confirming his safety through Zhao Ming.
Fu Tingyun summoned Zhao Ming to speak with her: “How is Master Zhao’s health? Have official duties been busy these days?”
This was Zhao Ming’s first time meeting Fu Tingyun. Although they were separated by a bamboo screen, the floating fragrance, graceful silhouette, and crisp yet gentle voice left him momentarily dazed.
“Although the Grinding Mill Garrison is located in a remote area, since the Hundred-Household is someone from the Chief Military Commission, we dare not be careless. We specially invited two capable women to take care of the Hundred-Household’s daily needs. It certainly can’t compare to being at home, but it’s still clean and tidy.” His smile carried a somewhat flattering eagerness. “The Grinding Mill Garrison has long been controlled by the Wu family. When the Mongols invaded, they were beaten to pieces. After the Hundred-Household took over, he discovered that military salaries had been in arrears for several years, the garrison’s farms were destroyed, the horses were old, and the weapons outdated… It’s truly a case of not knowing until you investigate—a thousand wounds and a hundred holes, not a single thing in order. These days, the Hundred-Household has been busy with military training and calculating the owed military salaries. With autumn approaching, we still don’t know where winter provisions will come from. I’ve had no choice but to follow the Hundred-Household’s orders and visit the Commander-in-Chief’s residence every few days, either pleading poverty before Vice Commander Wang or borrowing money from the Marquis of Yingchuan…” At this point, he puffed out his chest, as if being able to speak with the Marquis of Yingchuan was already a tremendous honor. “Our Hundred-Household has such prestige that neither the Marquis of Yingchuan nor Vice Commander Wang beat me with boards. Just now, the Marquis of Yingchuan allocated three thousand taels of silver to our Grinding Mill Garrison for the winter. The Hundred-Household’s former superior, Commander Lu, also sent us two hundred loads of grain. Now everyone in the garrison praises the Hundred-Household’s brilliance. The Wu family’s people who once dared to challenge the Hundred-Household arrogantly now behave like obedient children.” After finishing, he displayed a proud smile and explained, “We all feel we should call Master Zhao a Thousand-Household, but Master Zhao says he is still a Hundred-Household and insists we address him as such, so we have no choice but to comply!”
Zhao Ling was indeed skilled at managing subordinates; otherwise, he wouldn’t have been able to raise a force from nothing and ultimately make the Feng family so wary of him.
But this wasn’t Fu Tingyun’s main concern. She mused, “So the Ninth Master is that busy? He doesn’t even have time to visit the Marquis of Yingchuan? When you saw the Marquis, did he say anything?”
“No, no!” Zhao Ming quickly smiled. “The Marquis knows the Hundred-Household has been busy training troops and seemed very pleased. He even had me bring a jar of wine to the Hundred-Household.” He lowered his voice and revealed a mysterious expression. “I heard from Lin, the bodyguard at the Marquis’s side, that it was bestowed by the Emperor to the Counselor Duke, and the Counselor Duke’s wife had it specially delivered to the Marquis…” He clicked his tongue twice, his tone full of admiration. “A gift from the Emperor!”
Could someone else have killed Feng Dahu?
At this moment, Fu Tingyun felt an even more urgent desire to see Zhao Ling.
She patiently chatted with Zhao Ming for a few sentences, then asked Zheng San to accompany him downstairs for a meal. She sat at the table for a long time, resting her chin on her palm. When Zheng San came back to inform her that Zhao Ming had left, she immediately instructed him: “We will go to the Grinding Mill Garrison tomorrow.”
Zheng San had also made indirect inquiries and knew that Zhao Ling had been at the Grinding Mill Garrison all this time. With his major concerns relieved, as a servant, he naturally wouldn’t oppose Fu Tingyun’s decision. He respectfully answered “Yes” and went to prepare the carriage and horses.
Meanwhile, Zheng San’s wife busied herself helping Fu Tingyun pack clothes and prepare dried food.
Fu Tingyun instructed A Sen: “While I’m gone, I entrust the household matters to you. Don’t be childish anymore; take good care of San’s wife and Lin Chun. I’ll be back in twenty days at most.”
The Grinding Mill Garrison was, after all, a military post. She didn’t plan to stay long—just to see Zhao Ling, exchange a few words, and then return.
A Sen very much wanted to go along, but considering that Fu Tingyun had entrusted him with household responsibilities, he pursed his lips and reluctantly nodded.
Zheng San’s wife, however, was concerned: “I should still accompany you…”
“There’s no need.” Fu Tingyun was uneasy about leaving A Sen and Lin Chun at home. “By carriage, traveling day and night, it will take only seven or eight days to get there. Besides, when we reach the Grinding Mill Garrison, the Ninth Master has serving maids there.”
Zheng San’s wife didn’t dare go against her wishes and rambled on with many instructions about the journey. At dawn the next day, she saw Fu Tingyun off.
…
Along the way, yellow sand filled the sky. The sun hung like a fireball, baking the earth with rolling heat waves. Fortunately, the temperature cooled down in the early mornings and evenings; otherwise, traveling in such weather would have resulted in heatstroke or serious illness.
Entering the Grinding Mill Garrison, they found it entirely inhabited by military households. The journey was peaceful, though occasionally people approached with vigilant looks to ask whom they were seeking. Fu Tingyun, fearing enthusiastic hospitality from flatterers that might delay their journey, uniformly claimed they were looking for Zhao Ming, who had been transferred from the Zhuanglang Guard.
Everyone seemed familiar with Zhao Ming. Some snorted in disdain, while others eagerly gave directions. Within two or three days, they reached Ledu, the seat of the Grinding Mill Garrison office.
Ledu was a small town with one main street running through it. Upon entering the town, Zheng San spotted Zhao Ming sitting in a street-front restaurant, drinking and boasting with two or three men. Four or five young men gathered around, listening eagerly to his tall tales.
“…That woman, her skin as white as snow, with fine eyebrows that just slightly furrowed like this,” he said, mimicking a frowning expression, his face turning woeful. However, on his masculine face, it made one’s skin crawl. “Seeing that, even my heart ached, not to mention our Hundred-Household!” He shook his head and said with great emotion, “Our Hundred-Household truly has good fortune!”
The group burst into laughter.
One of the men drinking with Zhao Ming laughed and said, “Hundred-Household Zhao is quite handsome—how can you compare with our Hundred-Household? You can only look on with an aching heart!”
“Indeed, indeed!” Zhao Ming laughed good-naturedly, not taking offense. He raised his wine cup and took a sip. “I’m just envious in my heart!”
Everyone roared with laughter.
Zheng San’s brows furrowed tightly.
Honestly, he could understand Zhao Ming’s behavior.
A group of men stationed here—what else would they talk about if not women? Just like when they escorted caravans, they would tell a few bawdy jokes at night to relieve boredom. However, using Fu Tingyun as a topic of conversation made these words too jarring to his ears.
Just as he was about to call out to Zhao Ming, he saw a young woman with a blue kerchief on her head, wearing a white cloth shirt and bright blue skirt, carrying a plate of food from the kitchen behind.
“Officer Zhao,” she smiled, her eyes curving like a hibiscus flower, quite beautiful, “I heard you’ve met the lady at Hundred-Household Zhao’s home. Is that true?”
The lady at home?
Then who was Zhao Ming talking about earlier?
Zheng San suddenly felt a chill down his spine. He then heard Fu Tingyun’s low yet somewhat cold voice: “Don’t make a sound! Listen to what Zhao Ming says.”
His mind buzzed, and for a long moment, he only saw Zhao Ming’s opening and closing lips.
Fu Tingyun, however, heard everything.
“I’ve only seen her once,” Zhao Ming said, sitting up straighter as he spoke. “To be honest, she truly looks like a principal wife. She was behind a screen, with a young woman standing beside it. While she questioned me, that young woman just stood there the whole time. She was dressed neatly, wearing silver hairpins and bracelets, looking even more capable than Hundred-Household Chen’s wife. Each time I visited, she was very polite, either giving me food or fruit…”
The people in the restaurant listened with great interest.
Principal wife?
Then who was the secondary wife?
Fu Tingyun’s heart instantly felt like it harbored a burning fire, growing increasingly fierce. By the end, she was gritting her teeth and instructed Zheng San: “Go to the Grinding Mill Garrison office.”
Zheng San didn’t dare make a sound and drove the carriage forward along the street.
Someone in the restaurant had already noticed their carriage, but since this was the only restaurant in town, all travelers would stop here for a meal, so they hadn’t paid much attention. Now that the carriage was not stopping but continuing down the street, someone remarked curiously: “Hey, where did that carriage come from?”
With this comment, everyone looked outside.
Zhao Ming exclaimed, “Oh!” and stood up: “It’s from the Hundred-Household’s home… I recognize the driver, he’s the Hundred-Household’s steward.” While speaking, he hurriedly got up and called out, “Brother Zheng San!”
Zheng San was still debating whether to stop and greet Zhao Ming when the Grinding Mill Garrison office came into view.
He stopped the carriage. Fu Tingyun didn’t wait for him to set down the footstool before jumping off and walking straight into the office.
Zhao Ming had caught up: “Brother Zheng San, you’ve come to the garrison without telling me? I could have welcomed you.” As he spoke, he curiously looked at Fu Tingyun’s retreating figure. “Who is this…?”
Zheng San hesitated for a moment.
The guard at the door also hesitated.
Since the driver knew the officer, the passenger must also be an acquaintance.
Thus, Fu Tingyun entered the office without hindrance.
It was noon, and the staff had gone to eat. The front hall was quiet, with no one around.
Fu Tingyun went directly to the second hall.
In the center of the hall stood a large round black lacquered table inlaid with white snowflake marble. Two women who appeared sharp and capable were setting out bowls and chopsticks while talking quietly. Sensing something unusual, they looked up to see an unfamiliar woman walking in with light steps and composure.
This was the Grinding Mill Garrison office. Ever since Hundred-Household Zhao had dealt with the Wu family, even a Vice Thousand-Household would be respectful when coming here. Who was this woman? She wasn’t smiling deferentially or showing any caution…
The two women felt displeased. One of them stepped forward and scolded: “Young lady, who are you? Don’t you know this is the Grinding Mill Garrison office?” Her tone carried a certain condescending arrogance. “You should leave immediately! Otherwise, I’ll call the guards!”
Fu Tingyun’s eyes were fixed only on the two sets of bowls and chopsticks on the large round table.
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
Two sets of bowls and chopsticks!
If he ate alone, why were there two place settings?
If there was a guest, why was there no sound of conversation?
Typically, the eastern side of a garrison office’s second hall was the inner chamber, and the western side was the study.
She went directly toward the eastern chamber.
“You, woman, what are you barging into?” The two women didn’t expect the visitor to show the slightest hesitation. By the time they reacted and tried to stop her, Fu Tingyun had already entered the inner chamber.
Zhao Ling seemed to have just returned from outside. His face was flushed, and he had removed his official robe, wearing only an undergarment. He was washing his face with well water. Hearing the commotion, he looked up, his long eyebrows slightly furrowed, appearing somewhat displeased.
A few days without seeing each other, and you don’t even recognize me!
Fu Tingyun laughed coldly in her heart and, with one motion, pulled off the kerchief covering her head.