“Why are you staring at me, Madam?” Shen Du, having slept poorly, looked even colder.
Zhu Yan remained composed. “I find my husband handsome, so I’m admiring him.” For her survival, she didn’t even blink.
This response caught Shen Du off guard. He had expected Zhu Yan to retort with something like “Who’s looking at you?” or “I was just watching the cat in the corner.” Instead, her unexpected answer left him momentarily stunned, swallowing the sarcastic remarks he had prepared.
Jing Lin pretended he hadn’t heard anything, trying hard to minimize his presence.
At this moment, Zhu Yan dismounted and walked to a corner under the eaves where a person in colorful robes greeted her. They engaged in conversation.
Shen Du and Jing Lin exchanged glances, realizing they hadn’t noticed anyone there before.
Shortly after, Zhu Yan returned and remounted her horse. The person disappeared around the corner.
Sensing the awkward atmosphere, Zhu Yan quickly explained, “Before Elder Brother Xu became the Chief of Outlaws, he had a bounty of 100,000 taels of silver on his head.”
“100,000 taels?” Jing Lin seemed to recall something.
“Yes, he’s the one who once snuck into the palace and stole Her Majesty’s jade pillow…” Zhu Yan didn’t elaborate, but Jing Lin understood.
“But how did he become the Chief of Outlaws?”
As Zhu Yan was about to explain, Shen Du spoke first, “Her Majesty values talent. She felt it would be a waste to execute him. So instead of punishing him, she freed him from slave status and appointed him as Chief of Outlaws, overseeing all the outlaws in Chang’an. To this day, none have disobeyed him.”
Zhu Yan frowned. She had only learned bits of this from Xu Zuo after becoming familiar with him. How did Shen Du know?
Her pupils dilated as she boldly considered a possibility. “Don’t tell me you were the one who caught him back then?”
Shen Du’s thin lips pressed slightly downward. He didn’t answer, but the response was evident.
Jing Lin immediately looked at his master with admiration. His master was truly formidable.
“So, it was because of this that Her Majesty appointed you as Grand Secretary, leading the cabinet.”
Zhu Yan’s pink lips parted slightly, unsure what to say.
Shen Du, unusually proactive, asked, “What did Xu Zuo tell you just now?”
Zhu Yan’s scattered thoughts returned. She glanced at Shen Du and frowned, “Elder Brother Xu came to inform me that the Liang family sent people to the Imperial Academy to find Rong Zhui.”
Shen Du waited for her to continue.
“The main branch of the Liang family is discussing with Rong Zhui about arranging a ghost marriage between Liang Chenzhong and Kuang Zhanxin.”
Shen Du’s expression visibly darkened as Zhu Yan finished speaking.
A ghost marriage, as the name suggests, is arranging a spouse for someone who has died. Sometimes, young men and women who were engaged died before their wedding. Elders believed that if they weren’t married, their ghosts would cause trouble and disturb the household. Therefore, a ghost marriage ceremony would be held, and they would be buried together as husband and wife, their bones interred jointly. This also prevented lone graves in both families’ burial grounds, which was believed to affect the prosperity of future generations.
It wasn’t surprising that the Liang family, with their means, would arrange a ghost marriage for Liang Chenzhong. What was strange was why they chose Kuang Zhanxin.
Given the Liang family’s connection to the royal family, they should have chosen a deceased daughter from a respectable family for the ghost marriage, not Kuang Zhanxin, the top courtesan from the Imperial Academy who had also been mutilated.
Recalling what Lu Chuichui had said when Liang Chenzhong and Kuang Zhanxin’s bodies were discovered – that the Liang family’s main branch “demanded an immediate autopsy, observed, and left” – and now their urgency to arrange a ghost marriage between Liang Chenzhong and Kuang Zhanxin, it all seemed suspicious.
“They say a powerful diviner calculated that Liang Chenzhong’s missing heart and incomplete body would affect the Liang family’s fortunes. He can’t be paired with an ordinary girl, so they can only match him with Kuang Zhanxin, who suffered the same fate. Moreover, they were said to have feelings for each other.”
Zhu Yan had heard of a powerful diviner who had allegedly predicted the Empress’s ascension to the throne.
“Dragon eyes and phoenix neck, signs of extreme nobility.”
But how many truly powerful diviners could there be? It was likely just some street fortune-teller trying to swindle money from the Liang family.
Shen Du naturally thought the same. “Did Xu Zuo say anything else?”
Zhu Yan shook her head. There were things Xu Zuo had told her that she couldn’t share with Shen Du at this moment.
Shen Du seemed to see through her thoughts but didn’t press further. They had arrived at the entrance of the Li Family Bank, where workers were opening the doors and preparing to welcome customers.
“Hey, worker!” Zhu Yan called out.
“Huh?” The startled worker looked at the water he had just thrown, which was heading straight for a delicate figure.
Zhu Yan hadn’t expected that simply calling out would result in her being drenched.
Shen Du, who had been observing the surroundings, turned to see Zhu Yan looking like a drenched quail. His brow twitched, and he stepped forward, removing his dragon-patterned cloak and draping it over Zhu Yan’s shoulders.
The morning sunlight bathed the woman’s face in a golden glow. Her black hair dripped with water, resembling a water flower blooming in a mountain stream at dawn, breaking through the surface, alluringly beautiful.
Her eyes, like those of a lost deer in the mountains, shimmered with a pool of spring water, looking puzzled at the man adjusting the cloak on her shoulders.
Was this a concern? Or a setup for humiliation?
“It’s not necessary, Grand Secretary. I’m not cold,” Zhu Yan said.
Not all the water had landed on her, and the May air was already warm with the scent of gardenia.
“The sun will dry it soon enough.”
Jing Lin’s mouth twitched imperceptibly. His master was unusual, and it seemed the master’s wife wasn’t quite normal either.
What woman would refuse her husband’s cloak, saying she’d just wait for the sun to dry her clothes?
“Be quiet,” Shen Du commanded.
Zhu Yan fell silent, clutching the cloak tighter.
She had heard that once, a woman had pretended to faint and fallen into Shen Du’s arms on the street. She was detained in the Internal Affairs Office for a day, charged with offending the Grand Secretary.
He was utterly unromantic.
Since then, all the women in Chang’an avoided the White King of Hell like the plague.
Did they like the White King of Hell? Only the kind of like that could land you in jail.
Shen Du frowned as he watched Zhu Yan standing there with lowered eyes and a suppressed smile. His ears reddened slightly as he turned to look at the worker kneeling on the ground. The worker was trembling uncontrollably:
“I’m sorry, Grand Secretary, Madam. It wasn’t intentional, I didn’t mean to…”
Shen Du didn’t even glance at him, standing on the steps and ignoring the worker’s continuous kowtowing. He said irritably, “Aren’t you coming in?”
Zhu Yan didn’t respond. Instead, she helped the worker up, whispering a few words to him. The worker, wiping his tears, thanked her profusely and went to the back hall. Soon, a middle-aged man emerged, hastily putting on his outer robe and pulling his wife forward. He nervously fastened the last button, trembling:
“We didn’t know the Grand Secretary was coming from afar. Please forgive our lack of preparation.”
He pushed his wife towards Zhu Yan: “My wife has found some clothes for the young miss. Please, Madam, follow her to the inner hall to change out of your wet clothes and have a cup of hot tea to warm up.”
Zhu Yan looked at Shen Du. The manager, sweating profusely, watched Shen Du, almost in tears.
Shen Du curved his lips in an emotionless smile: “Hurry, wife. Go and return quickly.”
He watched as Zhu Yan disappeared behind the door.