HomeMelody of Golden AgeChapter 375: The Bronze Bird of Chang’an Sings 29

Chapter 375: The Bronze Bird of Chang’an Sings 29

Zhu Yan didn’t hesitate, quickening her steps past the mansion gate. As soon as she entered, she saw the steward giving her a sympathetic look.

Thinking it was sympathy for her kneeling ordeal, Zhu Yan paid no attention and took a detour to her room to change out of her damp, snow-covered clothes. However, as she passed the main hall, she saw a familiar figure and froze in place.

A tall, handsome man with his hair casually pinned up with a jade hairpin stood there. His casual clothes revealed how much thinner he had become. His face was still handsome and resolute, his eyes bright, looking directly at her.

Who else could it be but Shen Du?

Zhu Yan was soaked to the bone, her forehead burning. Though her consciousness was foggy, she felt as if she had suddenly become clear-headed. Swaying, she steadied herself against the doorframe, looking at him in disbelief.

He was looking at her too.

After many days apart, his face had grown gaunt, his clothes loose. Her official robes were soaked through with rain and snow, darkening their color. The knees were torn, revealing swollen, red skin underneath.

Unchanged were her star-like eyes, clear and black and white, bright and moving. On her snow-white face, a red scab on her forehead was particularly eye-catching.

Now she leaned weakly against the doorframe, her lips a mix of blue and white. He had returned to find out she had knelt all the way to plead for him. She must be burning with fever now, but she was still forcing herself to stand, her beautiful eyes wide open, looking at him helplessly.

She must have been frightened by the whip marks on his face.

“Shen Du,” Zhu Yan stumbled in, tears rolling down from her dark eyes, “I’ve finally waited for your return. Your face…”

Unexpectedly, Shen Du stepped aside to avoid her, his deep eyes dark and his expression complex.

Looking down at her outstretched hands, Zhu Yan turned to look at him, her gaze falling on his face, full of concern:

“Shen Du, let me look at your wounds.”

Shen Du kept his hands behind his back, looking at her coldly, not moving.

This sudden change left Zhu Yan at a loss. She guessed, “Shen Du, I’m not afraid of your wounds. Let me have a look.”

Zhu Yan’s voice was as hoarse as a rusty saw cutting wood. Her breathing was long and labored; she knew she was ill.

A flash of pain crossed Shen Du’s eyes, and he glanced at Zhang Baohuan standing nearby.

Zhang Baohuan stepped forward, placing the imperial edict in Shen Du’s arms, and glanced at the scars on his face. “I’m only here to deliver Her Majesty’s edict. You need to hand over the Inner Cabinet affairs to Junior Minister Lai quickly. Don’t miss the appointed time.”

As he turned to leave, Shen Du called him back. Shen Du’s throat had been whipped, and his voice was also rough and unpleasant: “Since Eunuch Zhang is here, please be a witness.”

“Witness to what?” Zhang Baohuan was confused. He glanced at the swaying Zhu Yan and gave Shen Du a meaningful look, but Shen Du ignored it. He quickly wrote a letter and handed it to Zhang Baohuan to read.

“A divorce letter?” Zhang Baohuan’s expression turned strange, his tone unfriendly. “You want to divorce Zhu Yan?”

Shen Du’s eyes flickered, but he nodded firmly, not looking at Zhu Yan.

Even Zhang Baohuan, who didn’t want to get involved, couldn’t stand by. He pointed at Zhu Yan, who was about to collapse, and argued vehemently:

“Your wife, Zhu Yan, just knelt from Zhuque Main Street to Her Majesty’s bedchamber to plead for you, presenting a blank petition. Look at her, she’s been freezing in the snow and ice all day. She’s fallen ill from the cold.”

Seeing Shen Du’s expressionless face, he raised an eyebrow, his tone quite regretful: “She didn’t abandon you when you were facing death, risking her life to fight for your freedom. And now, as soon as you’re free, you want to divorce her? Shen Du, I thought you had some chivalry in you. How can you abandon your wife like this?”

Shen Du’s expression was inscrutable: “It’s not abandonment, it’s a mutual divorce.”

“You,” Zhang Baohuan was furious, “Is this the time to quibble over such things? You’ve been demoted, you’re no longer the Grand Secretary. You’re just a minor guard in the Imperial Guard now. Even the Inner Cabinet will be under Junior Minister Lai’s control from now on. What are you so arrogant about? Your wife has stood by you through thick and thin, and you still have the nerve to propose a divorce?”

Being scolded by Zhang Baohuan, Shen Du’s expression turned ugly. Beside them, Zhu Yan, struck repeatedly by the word “divorce,” clutched her head and fainted.

Shen Du brushed aside Zhang Baohuan’s accusing finger and rushed over in one stride to carry Zhu Yan to the inner chamber. His dark eyes were filled with worry.

Zhang Baohuan shook his head, raising his chin: “You clearly can’t bear to part with her. Why put on this act?”

He didn’t linger, hurrying back to the palace to report.

When Zhu Yan woke up, it was already the middle of the night. She had been trapped in a nightmare, running wildly, finally seeing a face covered in horrific whip marks before jolting awake.

The canopy above was decorated with butterflies among a hundred flowers. Zhu Yan pushed aside the brocade quilt and sat up. Despite the heated floor in the room, the sudden exposure of her cold sweat to the air made her shiver.

Wiping the fine sweat from her forehead with her sleeve, Zhu Yan felt as if stones were grinding in her throat. She recalled the scene from her dream and suddenly realized that the face was Shen Du’s current face.

Not just his face, but Shen Du’s exposed wrists, arms, neck, and collarbone were all covered in whip marks.

“Shen Du!”

Zhu Yan stepped towards the door, wanting to find Shen Du.

The door was pushed open from the outside, and Concubine Jin, carrying a bowl of soup, collided with Zhu Yan. Fearing she might scald Zhu Yan, she quickly turned aside, but even so, the bowl fell to the ground, spilling the medicinal soup.

“Sixth Miss, your high fever has just broken. Where are you going?”

Zhu Yan wasn’t fully conscious. She urgently said, “I need to find Shen Du. He’s injured, badly injured.”

Unexpectedly, upon hearing “Shen Du,” Concubine Jin’s expression changed. She fiercely blocked the door, not letting her leave while calling for others. She said:

“My good daughter, can you wait until your illness is better and your fever has subsided before going out? Look, it’s snowing outside.”

The snow had been falling continuously, making it hard to distinguish day from night in the dim light.

“No, he needs me.” Zhu Yan refused, frowning as her vision darkened.

By this time, everyone in the family had arrived. Seeing Zhu Yan so obsessed with finding Shen Du, Zhu Mojie couldn’t contain his anger:

“You’re still thinking about that scoundrel? You knelt all the way to plead for him, the whole Chang’an city knows about it. But what about him? As soon as he was released, he didn’t care that you were ill. He just sent you back to the Zhu mansion, and, and, and…”

Zhu Yan looked at him: “And what?”

Zhu Manshu stomped her foot: “And he brought a divorce letter, without even showing his face.”

Zhu Mojie fumed: “Does he have the face to show up?”

Zhu Yan felt as if she had been struck by lightning. Her head throbbed with pain. She stepped back, steadied by Concubine Jin. Looking around at the worried faces of the Zhu family members, she finally realized: that Shen Du had returned home and been demoted. The Inner Cabinet would now be Lai Luozhi’s domain. And the first thing Shen Du had said to her was “divorce.”

He must have suffered a lot of torture. He used to be so strong, but now he was so thin. Even with his face covered in scars, she could see his sunken cheeks.

“Where’s the divorce letter?”

Seeing Zhu Yan ask calmly, they were unsure how to react and looked at each other.

Finally, Zhu Manshu shoved the divorce letter into her hand, still berating:

“He deserves to be demoted, that ungrateful wretch. He caused our little Sixth to catch a chill and she’s still feverish. He didn’t even have the decency to bring her back himself, just sent someone else.”

Concubine Jin wiped away tears beside her. Zhu Yan calmly read the contents of the divorce letter, then looked up at Concubine Jin: “Mother, when I came back, were my clothes dry or wet?”

“Of course they were dry,” Concubine Jin sobbed as she stood up. “I’ll go brew another bowl of medicine for you.”

“No need, I’ve brought it,” Madam Ru entered carrying a bowl of medicine. “I saw yours was spilled earlier, so I went to the kitchen to get another bowl. We can’t delay Sixth Miss’s treatment.”

Madam Jin looked grateful: “Sister is right.”

Madam Ru handed over the medicine bowl. Just as she was about to offer some kind words, Zhu Yan took the bowl without a word and drank it all in one go.

Everyone was pleased to see this. Madam Jin said she would help Zhu Yan change her clothes and asked Zhu Mojie to leave.

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