Jin Yuanbao considered carefully: “Since Centurion Feng has mistaken us for children of a prestigious family, I think we might as well let them continue this misunderstanding!”

Yang Yucheng caught his meaning and chuckled: “You mean, pretend to be Master Zhao’s attendants?” As soon as he said it, he laughed, “Why not? We’ve been following Master Zhao for our livelihood all along. It’s only because of Master Zhao’s kindness that he considers us brothers.” Then he added, “You’re being so hesitant—is there some difficult task you need me to do?”

It’s easy to share hardships, but difficult to share prosperity.

Although they couldn’t be considered wealthy now, their status had certainly changed.

Seeing Yang Yucheng as straightforward as ever, Jin Yuanbao relaxed and smiled: “Then I’m afraid you’ll have to humble yourself by serving wine and water.”

Hearing this, Yang Yucheng spat and laughed: “I’m not some courtesan from a brothel.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he remembered Fu Tingyun’s presence and laughed awkwardly several times.

Everyone else laughed too.

As the saying goes, having connections in the court makes it easier to be an official. If they wanted to stand out within three to five years, they would have to take an unconventional approach.

Zhao Ling smiled: “Then you’ll need to control your temper. Let’s put on a good show for them.”

“Don’t worry, don’t worry,” Yang Yucheng said. “I guarantee I’ll be even more respectful to Master Zhao than Asen is.”

Having been dragged into the conversation, Asen muttered unhappily: “What did I do? I’ve never ruined any of the master’s plans!”

Yang Yucheng glared at Asen fiercely.

Asen quickly fell silent.

It seemed this Yang Yucheng had ruined something before!

Fu Tingyun smiled with pursed lips.

Being with these people, she always heard many amusing words and interesting things.

Zhao Ling looked over at her, his expression warm like a spring breeze in March.

Fu Tingyun’s face flushed slightly, wishing only that this joyful atmosphere could last longer.

She helped with suggestions: “Now that Master Zhao has arrived in Zhang Ye, you’ll need to host banquets for the Marquis of Yingchuan and the other officials. What are these officials’ preferences? Should they be invited together or separately? If together, would the timing work out? I think Master Zhao should meet with General Mo first to arrange these details before reporting to the Commander-in-Chief’s office, which would make things easier later. If you could meet the Marquis of Yingchuan before the official report, that would be even better.” She explained tactfully, “Having met with the officials and shared drinks before formally reporting to the Commander-in-Chief’s office would create more familiarity. Those who know that a mere Company Commander like Master Zhao can host banquets for the Commander-in-Chief and Deputy Commanders would naturally regard him differently. Those who don’t know might think someone has put in a good word for Master Zhao, so they would treat him with special courtesy… With so many people coming and going at the Commander-in-Chief’s office, each with their thoughts, perhaps even Deputy Commander Feng Tong in faraway Liangzhou might hear about this!”

Zhao Ling smiled slightly, looking at her with indulgent affection that seemed to say “you’re so clever.”

Jin Yuanbao glanced at Zhao Ling and nodded appreciatively in a manner that seemed to humor them.

Yang Yucheng simply gave a thumbs up: “Miss Fu’s ability to think of these things makes her truly exceptional among women!”

This made Fu Tingyun unable to suppress her amusement. Remembering Jin Yuanbao’s expression earlier, she secretly complained: Was what she said so ridiculous? Why did he have an expression that suggested he was only humoring her for Zhao Ling’s sake… Who was she to Zhao Ling? Why would Jin Yuanbao think that giving her face would please Zhao Ling?

Yet an irrepressible joy welled up from the depths of her heart, making her clear eyes sparkle brightly like the morning glow.

Seeing her cheerful expression, lovely as a flower, Zhao Ling’s mood immediately became as clear as a summer sky. He stared at Fu Tingyun without blinking.

Observing this, Jin Yuanbao discreetly pulled Yang Yucheng to leave: “We’ve been running around all day and are covered in dust. Let’s go freshen up first, then we can have dinner together later.”

Yang Yucheng remained seated: “It’s only the hour of You (5-7 PM); it’s still early for dinner. Why don’t we discuss what to give to Mo Yi?”

Jin Yuanbao felt both annoyed and amused.

Fortunately, Zhao Ling was decisive in his actions. He smiled and stood up: “Very well, let’s go visit Mo Yi now and set a time for reporting to the Commander-in-Chief’s office.”

Yang Yucheng and Jin Yuanbao naturally had no objections. The two of them carried the gift boxes and left with Zhao Ling.

Fu Tingyun returned to her room, and her smile immediately collapsed.

She lay on the bed, her mind in chaos, scenes of her time with Zhao Ling spinning in her mind like a lantern show—so clear yet so distant. She was in a daze until Zheng Sanniang brought the evening meal, only then realizing it was already time to light the lamps.

“Has Master Zhao returned yet?” she asked, chewing her food without tasting it.

Zheng Sanniang was somewhat surprised that she spoke while eating, but respectfully replied: “Not yet.” She added, “I heard from our people that Master Zhao went to see General Mo and probably won’t return until very late.”

It was better if he came back late.

Coming back late meant the two men could talk well together.

Fu Tingyun nodded, hastily washed up, and lowered the bed curtains to rest.

In the middle of the night, she suddenly awoke.

All around was silent, without a sound.

Yet she sensed movement outside the door.

She listened intently for a while but heard nothing, though the strange feeling simply wouldn’t disperse.

Fu Tingyun silently regretted not having asked Zheng Sanniang to keep her company.

After thinking for a moment, she quietly got up, retrieved the dagger Zhao Ling had given her for self-defense from under her pillow, gripped it in her palm, and listened carefully through the door.

Outside the door was a sound as light as the wind.

The weather in the northwest was cold, and the corridors were sealed, with thick fur curtains hanging over the doors. How could there be the sound of wind?

She held her breath and called out in a low voice: “Who’s outside the door?”

The sound outside suddenly vanished.

Fu Tingyun’s body stiffened… She needed to find a way to let Zhao Ling know… Just as she was about to shout, a deep voice came from outside: “It’s me!”

She sighed with relief, her body almost collapsing to the ground.

“Why is it you?” she went to open the door, her hands so weak they could barely exert any strength. It took her a while to withdraw the door bolt.

The moonlight shone brightly on the window, casting a faint glow in the room.

Seeing Fu Tingyun wearing only a short jacket, shivering and holding something, Zhao Ling quickly said: “You must be freezing! Quickly put on your fur coat!”

Fu Tingyun’s mouth twitched slightly: “I was scared by you, okay?” Then she muttered softly, “In the middle of the night, even if you had something to discuss, couldn’t you have knocked? Standing at the door like that—fortunately, I’m brave. If it were someone else, they might have been frightened half to death.” Only then did she realize her back was covered in cold sweat. As the cold air from outside rushed in, her body felt slightly chilled. Thinking that he had just met with Mo Yi and might have urgent matters to discuss, she stepped aside to let him in.

Zhao Ling had intended to have a good talk with Fu Tingyun after returning in the evening, but Mo Yi had called Tao Mu and someone named Lin Chi to join them, insisting on drinking until they were thoroughly drunk. He had to accompany them, drinking until curfew, when Mo Yi arranged to meet with the Marquis of Yingchuan at the hour of Mao (5-7 AM) the next day, saying: “If the Marquis is free, you can host, and we’ll have a few drinks with him as well. We can go to the Commander-in-Chief’s office to report in the afternoon.”

He naturally agreed.

By the time he returned to the inn, it was already past the second watch (9-11 PM).

After washing up and going to bed, he kept thinking about Fu Tingyun, feeling uneasy.

He decided to get up and knock on Fu Tingyun’s door. From a distance, he heard the watchman’s clapper announcing the third watch (11 PM-1 AM) and thought she must be sleeping soundly. He was reluctant to wake her, but if he didn’t clarify things today, he might not have time tomorrow, and over time, what she was holding inside might turn a small matter into a big one. He hesitated at the door for a long time, not even hearing Fu Tingyun’s footsteps as she got out of bed.

He smiled somewhat embarrassedly: “I didn’t expect to startle you so much…” As he spoke, he entered the room and only then noticed the dagger in Fu Tingyun’s hand, making him even more uncomfortable.

Fu Tingyun wrinkled her nose: “Did you drink a lot?”

“No,” remembering how Fu Tingyun had stopped him at the Mid-Autumn family banquet and seeing her current displeasure, he instinctively wanted to deny it. Then, realizing the smell of alcohol on him couldn’t be hidden, he changed his answer sheepishly, “I drank a little, but it’s fine. After all, I was seeing Mo Yi on important business.”

Fu Tingyun was only worried that excessive drinking might harm his health, but knowing he was a person with self-control, she didn’t press further. She brewed a pot of strong tea, put on her fur coat, and sat on the kang opposite Zhao Ling, quietly waiting for him to speak.

Although neither spoke, there was a peaceful, serene atmosphere that Zhao Ling found quite comforting. He slowly drank half a cup of tea before speaking.

“Why were you crying this afternoon?” he looked at Fu Tingyun tenderly, asking straightforwardly, his tone revealing a hint of intimacy.

He, he had been pacing outside her door in the middle of the night for this reason?

Fu Tingyun looked at Zhao Ling in surprise.

Zhao Ling had always been someone who took responsibility for his actions. Although feeling uncomfortable under her gaze, he wouldn’t resort to lying.

He nodded: “I’ve been very worried, not knowing what happened to you.”

Could it be, as Asen had said, that he would take anything concerning her to heart?

Suddenly, Fu Tingyun felt as if she was back in her childhood, when she and her sisters had secretly drunk their grandmother’s treasured Pear Blossom White wine, and drowsily slept under the camellia tree. The bright red petals were dazzling, and she felt as if she were floating on clouds.

So Zhao Ling’s feelings toward her were indeed genuine…

She lowered her head shyly.

If they could be together… that would be wonderful!

An image suddenly flashed in her mind of herself leaning against his shoulder.

His body was so warm…

Her heart began to race, like fifteen buckets of water being drawn up and down a well.

Her cheeks grew hot.

Those who are properly betrothed become wives; those who elope become concubines.

What kind of family did he have?

If her mother saw Zhao Ling, she would be surprised!

Her heart felt sweet, her eyes smiling, but soon her expression became tense.

Setting aside the fact that Zhao Ling had now cleared his name, she was a person who couldn’t be seen in public. Not only would she be of no help to his official career in the future, but if people discovered her identity, she might even implicate him. As for her father… she thought of the proud expression on her father’s face whenever he mentioned the Yu family in Nanjing, and the stern words in his reply when her mother wrote about her second aunt wanting to marry her second cousin to Zuo Junjie… She had a feeling that even though she had been disowned by the Fu family, her father would almost certainly look down on Zhao Ling. A great man would never lack for a wife, so why would Zhao Ling willingly endure her father’s disdain? Rather than ending things on bad terms and becoming strangers or even enemies, it would be better…

Fu Tingyun’s face grew slightly pale, as if she had suddenly fallen from the clouds into the mud.