Even in his dreams, Zhao Ling had never imagined that Fu Tingyun would appear at the Grinding Mill Garrison, would appear before him. He stared wide-eyed, unable to believe what he was seeing, until Fu Tingyun walked toward him, her bright eyes gazing at him as coldly as morning stars on the horizon. Only then did he confirm that the person before him was truly Fu Tingyun.

“You, how did you come here?” He was both surprised and delighted. The cloth in his hand dripped water that soaked through his collar without him noticing. “Who brought you? Zheng San? A Sen? Where is Zheng San’s wife? Why didn’t she accompany you?” He looked past her.

Fu Tingyun didn’t even glance at him, instead pushing past his shoulder and examining the inner chamber.

The garrison office looked quite old, but the furnishings inside were luxurious.

Official green Hangzhou silk curtains, black lacquered furniture inlaid with snowflake white marble, emerald green bamboo mats, blue brick flooring—coolness permeated everywhere.

Only Zhao Ling was in the room. The bedding was neatly folded. On the black lacquered clothes rack hung only a moon-white triple-woven Songjiang cloth shirt. The bronze bird-patterned dressing table was empty, appearing somewhat sparse. Opening the wardrobe, besides a few official uniforms, there were only the summer clothes she had made.

Fu Tingyun felt slightly better in her heart.

Zhao Ling, however, was completely bewildered: “What’s wrong?”

What’s wrong?

I should be asking you what’s wrong!

Fu Tingyun felt anger burning in her heart again. She turned to face Zhao Ling and noticed from the corner of her eye that the two women who had been setting bowls and chopsticks in the hall were now crowding at the doorway of the inner chamber, looking at her with shock, speechless.

The earlier scene had been witnessed by both of them.

Fu Tingyun’s brows furrowed almost imperceptibly.

Her earlier actions had been somewhat rash. According to Zhao Ming, these two women serving Zhao Ling were relatives of some Hundred-Household, presumably people of influence in the Grinding Mill Garrison. This being her first visit to the garrison, to leave such an impression on these two women—if word spread, with their reputation, it wouldn’t be good for her name.

Especially at a time like this, she didn’t want others to laugh at her.

Fu Tingyun smiled and said, “I was worried about the Ninth Master living in austere conditions here, but I see the room has unexpected treasures!” Though she understood the reasoning in her mind, she couldn’t help but let a tone of mockery slip into her words.

The two women exchanged glances.

The woman before them had skin as white as snow and an elegant demeanor. Even in her fury, she couldn’t hide her graceful bearing—the daughter of a noble family. She had entered and turned the inner chamber upside down, yet Zhao Ling stood there dumbfounded, watching her, allowing her actions, his expression both joyful and helpless, without a hint of anger… The two women were not fools; on the contrary, they were quite clever, otherwise they wouldn’t have been chosen to serve Zhao Ling… Fu Tingyun’s words carried hidden meaning, and recalling their earlier disrespect, the women felt somewhat fearful. They called out in unison: “Hundred-Household!” Their voices already carried a hint of pleading.

Storming in and turning the room upside down just because the furnishings were too lavish?

The Fu Tingyun that Zhao Ling knew was not such a person. She must have a reason for acting this way. But whatever the reason, he didn’t want those two women present. After all, Fu Tingyun losing her temper like this would only make those meeting her for the first time think she had a violent temperament—and a violent temperament was incompatible with virtuous character… He didn’t want Fu Tingyun to appear lacking in virtue before his subordinates’ wives.

“You may go!” He gestured with a stern expression. “Add another set of bowls and chopsticks!”

The two women hurriedly lowered their heads in acknowledgment and withdrew.

Add another set of bowls and chopsticks—who was the other set for? Would three people be eating at the same table?

Fu Tingyun trembled with anger and, after a long moment, said, “So the Ninth Master has a guest!” Her tone contained unmistakable acidity.

Zhao Ling was a perceptive person and skilled at resolving complex issues. In his view, Fu Tingyun’s current rage, along with her barbed words, was because she was angry. If he could find the cause of her anger, the matter would be easily resolved.

He cut straight to the heart of the matter: “Why are you so furious? What exactly is the issue?”

What’s the issue?

You ask what the issue is?

Why won’t you answer who your guest is?

Fu Tingyun glared at him, her gaze burning, as if a fire blazed within: “Who is the Ninth Master’s guest?”

Her confrontational words made Zhao Ling’s brows furrow slightly. He didn’t understand why she was fixated on this, but he patiently said, “Do you remember I once mentioned that when I first started out, a man named Tang Daishan once helped me greatly?”

How could Fu Tingyun not remember?

Tang Daishan had wanted to invite Zhao Ling to Beijing to find a way to obtain an official salt license, and she had tried everything to prevent it…

“He was killed two days before he was to leave for Beijing, and the bank notes worth one hundred thousand taels that he planned to take to Beijing also vanished,” Zhao Ling’s brows knotted together. “The Feng family seized the opportunity to take over his private salt business. Tang Daishan had only one daughter, Miss Tang. Unable to sustain the business, she came to me hoping I could serve as an intermediary—the Tang family would never again touch the private salt business if the Feng family would leave them alone…”

Warning bells rang in Fu Tingyun’s mind.

Miss Tang?

That Miss Tang who had lent Zhao Ling the Longquan sword!

So the woman everyone was discussing was Miss Tang.

Not many people knew about Zhao Ling joining the military. How did she know?

Or perhaps she had been keeping track of Zhao Ling all along?

Xi’an Prefecture was a thousand miles from here, and Zhao Ling had already retired from his former life. Why would she still ask Zhao Ling to mediate?

“Has the Ninth Master agreed?” She stared into Zhao Ling’s eyes.

Zhao Ling had never seen Fu Tingyun so sharp, and he was momentarily stunned.

This hesitation provoked Fu Tingyun’s displeasure: “The feud between the Tang and Feng families arose entirely because of private salt. Since Tang Daishan had only Miss Tang as his daughter, and now Miss Tang has decided to abandon the private salt business, the grudge between the Tang and Feng families should be resolved. Why is there a need for you as an intermediary?”

With Zhao Ling’s intelligence, how could he not understand this? Why the hesitation? Or was it because the one asking for his intervention was Miss Tang?

“There are things you don’t know,” Zhao Ling said. “The two families have been feuding for years. It’s not as simple as just a grudge. There are homicide cases involved. Giving up is not such an easy matter…”

“Then, has the Ninth Master agreed to help Miss Tang mediate between the Tang and Feng families?” Fu Tingyun asked with a grave expression.

“No…” Zhao Ling thought of Fu Tingyun’s schemes before, and of the joy of Yang Yucheng, Jin Yuanbao, and others. He didn’t want to get involved in such matters again.

“Then what is the Ninth Master hesitating about?” Fu Tingyun immediately said. “Rather than dragging this out and giving people false hope, it would be better to refuse clearly. Perhaps she could find someone more suitable than you as an intermediary. This way, you’re not helping her but holding her back.”

Zhao Ling knew this too.

“It’s just that on his deathbed, Master Tang asked Miss Tang to find me, hoping I would help her escape from the Feng family,” he smiled bitterly. “The Tang family has been in the private salt business since the previous generation, with assets worth millions. And Miss Tang has no brothers or sisters to support her…”

Fu Tingyun was furious.

Everyone in this world has their own difficulties. It wasn’t as if Miss Tang couldn’t survive. Zhao Ling wasn’t some Guanyin Bodhisattva who saves the suffering. How had he suddenly become so compassionate? Back then, he had even wanted to strangle her!

A gentle female voice came from outside the door: “Ninth Master, I hear you have a guest? May I meet them?”

Given how she addressed Zhao Ling, Fu Tingyun knew without guessing that this must be Miss Tang.

Guest, indeed! So now she was the guest? And what about Miss Tang? Was she the host?

Fu Tingyun looked at Zhao Ling.

Zhao Ling whispered, “It’s Miss Tang” to her, then hurriedly took a robe that Fu Tingyun had made from the wardrobe and put it on.

Fu Tingyun watched, feeling somewhat better.

But then Zhao Ling stood there with the posture of a pine tree, revealing an elegant and refined smile, like still water or hard stone, displaying a calm and composure forged through years of hardship.

Like having eaten too much sugar, Fu Tingyun’s heart suddenly filled with sourness.

Then she saw a beauty gracefully walking in.

The woman had her hair in a fallen horse bun, wore a white gauze shirt, and had bright eyes and snow-white skin. Her eyebrows, like distant hills, were beautiful and refined, making her appear strikingly elegant.

Seeing Fu Tingyun, a flash of amazement crossed her eyes, but this amazement was quickly replaced by a radiant smile: “This sister is truly beautiful!” She said, looking toward Zhao Ling. “May I know who this is?”

Zhao Ling smiled and said, “This is Miss Fu!”

Miss Tang curtseyed to her and warmly addressed her: “Miss Fu!”

Miss Fu!

He introduced her to Miss Tang as “Miss Fu”!

Fu Tingyun’s fingertips grew cold.

So she was merely “Miss Fu” after all!

Just like Miss Tang.

Except one was called “Miss” and the other “Young Lady.”

How hateful that she had been eagerly expecting… that in his heart, she would be different!

She thought of the tender gaze he gave her under the bright moonlight of the Mid-Autumn Festival; she thought of the warmth when she was wrapped in his fur coat; she thought of his solemn expression, like a promise, when he handed over the property deeds to her; she thought of the sweet feeling whenever she recalled him; she thought of her trepidation when she heard he might have been defeated in battle; she thought of those three arrows that shot Feng Dahu… Even so, she had to ask clearly why he treated her this way. Could it be that all of this was truly just her one-sided desire? Truly just her presumption?

Even if she had suffered a crushing defeat, she couldn’t lose her composure in front of Miss Tang. Once she lost her composure, she would truly have lost.

She should gently ask Miss Tang when she had arrived, whether she was comfortable staying at the Grinding Mill Garrison, if there was anything she needed help with… She understood this in her mind, but all strength seemed to have been drained from her body, and she could no longer maintain this superficial dignity.

She just felt tired.

More tired than ever before.

What was she doing?

It was truly laughable!

Following him from Xi’an Prefecture to Zhangye, and then from Zhangye to the Grinding Mill Garrison… she was only inviting humiliation!

Fu Tingyun felt a deep weariness in her heart, along with a despondent self-abandonment.

She had offered even her self-respect to Zhao Ling. What else did she have? What was left?

“Zhao Ling!” Tears moistened her eyes. “From today onwards, let us sever all ties! You go your way, and I’ll go mine.”

She fled from the second hall.