Everyone inside froze at once.
The subordinate officer moved with lightning speed, tucking the urgent dispatch away the instant he heard the commotion at the door.
Pei Lan, seeing that the figure at the door was Yun Xi, felt his expression darken.
But he quickly composed himself, forcing a faint smile. “A’Ting, it’s almost the hour of xu—why aren’t you at the banquet waiting for the birthday cakes?”
Yun Xi had no desire to exchange a single word with Pei Lan. She walked straight up to him and held out her hand. “The letter.”
Pei Lan feigned surprise. “What letter?”
“The urgent dispatch my brother wrote to the court, exposing Zhaoyuan’s betrayal.”
A cool voice came from the doorway. Pei Lan looked up to find it was Cheng Chang.
What was the Third Young Master of Prince Cong’s household doing here?
Pei Lan’s expression darkened further as he glanced at Steward Feng, standing beside Cheng Chang and wiping his brow repeatedly.
But this whole affair was, in truth, the Second Young Master’s own doing—how could Steward Feng possibly explain the full story to Pei Lan in front of the young lord?
Pei Lan’s mind raced. Things had come to this point—the most important thing now was to find a way to handle it.
Besides, even if both Yun Xi and Cheng Chang had stumbled onto this, it wasn’t necessarily catastrophic. This matter could be made large or small, depending on how it was handled. He was a general, raised in the distinguished Pei household of a Minister—he never left himself without an escape route in any matter.
Pei Lan feigned ignorance. “Hasn’t that dispatch been missing this whole time?”
“Will you give it to me or not?” Yun Xi asked again.
Pei Lan didn’t answer.
“Fine,” Yun Xi said with a nod.
The instant the word left her lips, she struck with her hand held flat like a blade, aiming straight for Pei Lan’s shoulder. He sidestepped, narrowly avoiding it.
In the next instant, a sweeping kick came from the left, carrying fierce force.
Pei Lan’s pupils contracted sharply. This girl had always been formidable in martial arts since childhood, and now that she’d grown, her skill had only sharpened further.
He was, after all, a distinguished general—few in the military could match him in combat. But those two moves alone from Yun Xi had left him momentarily dazzled. She must have trained relentlessly through every season, never once slacking.
It wasn’t that Pei Lan couldn’t have beaten her—but with so many people watching, how could he possibly fight a woman?
He retreated two quick steps and said sternly, “A’Ting, what exactly are you doing?”
Yun Xi ignored him entirely, striking again, reaching for the letter tucked in his robes.
At that moment, footsteps sounded from outside. A servant came to report, “Third Young Master, Second Young Master, Miss Yun Xi—so you’re all here. They’re about to serve the birthday cakes. The Dowager Matriarch—”
Before he could finish, he caught sight of the scene inside the room and fell instantly silent. “This—this—”
Steward Feng snapped at him, “Go on, stand aside.” Then, turning back into the room with a forced smile, “Second Young Master, Miss Yun Xi, it’s the hour of xu—time for the birthday rice cakes and cakes. The Dowager Matriarch has probably sent people to hurry us along, wondering why we’ve been gone so long. Perhaps the three of you should head to the banquet first, and settle whatever’s happening here afterward?”
But Yun Xi had no intention of listening.
This matter concerned the Marquis’s household, concerned her brother’s lifelong innocence—she couldn’t wait even a moment longer.
Pei Lan, seeing that every strike Yun Xi threw was in deadly earnest, found himself struggling against her relentless assault and frowned deeply.
His subordinate, seizing the moment while Yun Xi’s guard was down, blocked her incoming palm strike with a sweep of his arm.
Pei Lan used the opening to seize her wrist and snapped, “Have you had enough of this?”
Yun Xi’s right palm, already injured, had reopened during the struggle, blood seeping through the bandage drop by drop.
Pei Lan frowned at the sight and asked, “What happened here?”
But before Yun Xi could answer, he continued, “Today is Grandmother’s birthday celebration. If you keep this up and disturb her, don’t you think it will break her heart?”
Yun Xi yanked her hand back furiously. “I only want that letter!”
Seeing her utterly unmoved, Pei Lan folded his arms and said nothing.
Yun Xi spoke, word by word. “My brother spent half his life guarding the frontier, protecting our homeland—an upright, honorable man who gave his life for the court. And you would use his integrity as a bargaining chip?”
“If you don’t want to marry me, if you resent the House of Zhongyong for dragging down your future, you could have simply told me so plainly. Why resort to such underhanded tactics?”
“Do you think I want to marry you?”
“Do you think I’d cling desperately to marrying into your Pei family?”
“What makes you think I’d be willing to marry someone like you?”
“Let me make this perfectly clear right now—even if your Pei family begged, I would not marry you!”
She extended her hand again. “The letter.”
Pei Lan remained silent.
Yun Xi said, “So you truly won’t give it to me?”
She nodded. “Very well.”
With that, without another glance at Pei Lan, she turned and walked toward the banquet.
Pei Lan watched her retreating figure, then found his gaze unexpectedly meeting Cheng Chang’s, standing in the doorway. His heart suddenly stilled.
The Third Young Master’s eyes held nothing but coldness—not the coldness of frost or ice, but a kind of detachment, a kind of remoteness, as though he were an outsider looking down upon this mortal world, taking in every ghost and demon within it with a single glance, piercing straight through to the truth of a person’s heart.
As though he weren’t truly of this world at all.
As though whoever he looked upon was, in truth, nothing more than a joke.
Pei Lan found himself strangely disoriented for a moment, and by the time he recovered, Cheng Chang had already walked off alongside Yun Xi.
“General, this…” His subordinate trailed off, worry evident in his expression.
Pei Lan knew what he meant to say.
It didn’t matter that Yun Xi now knew about the dispatch—but if this matter reached the Dowager Matriarch’s ears through the Third Young Master of Prince Cong’s household, the Pei family would face a considerable storm.
Pei Lan steadied himself and said, “Fine, then. Let her be the one to bring it up—saves me the trouble.”
Either way, there was no avoiding the Dowager Matriarch’s fury now.
Back in the garden, the guests had already returned to their seats. Yun Xi, Cheng Chang, and Pei Lan were all seated within the hall.
The Dowager Matriarch, noticing the three of them arriving one after another with strikingly different expressions, hadn’t even had a chance to ask before Pei Ming, seated to her left, scolded Pei Lan. “I told you to attend to our distinguished guests, and instead you nearly made them late!”
Steward Feng, following them into the hall, quickly smoothed things over. “In truth, my lord, this wasn’t the Second Young Master’s fault. It was this humble servant’s error—Miss Yun Xi injured her hand earlier at the pavilion, which is what delayed us.”
Hearing this, the Dowager Matriarch grew worried. “A’Ting is hurt? How did it happen? Is it serious?” She braced herself on her cane, about to rise.
Knowing Cheng Chang didn’t wish to draw attention to the attack, Yun Xi shook her head. “Just a small accidental scrape. It’s nothing serious, Grandmother, please don’t worry.”
Only then did the Dowager Matriarch nod and settle back down slowly. “As long as you’re all right. As long as you’re all right.”
At the second quarter of the hour of xu, the household maids served birthday rice cakes to each table in turn. Soon after, eight men carried in together a birthday cake half a zhang long and three chi wide, to be shared among all the guests.
The assembled guests raised their cups in unison, offering wishes for the Dowager Matriarch’s longevity.
The Dowager Matriarch accepted the toast with a smile, lifting her cup but not drinking from it. Instead, she stepped forward into the center of the hall and spoke. “This old woman has lived to this age, and has weathered everything that needed weathering, whether it should have come to pass or not—I daresay I’ve lived long enough. In this lifetime, I count myself fortunate. Now that I have one foot already in the grave, there remains but a single wish left unfulfilled. If it could be granted, this old woman could pass into the next world tomorrow without regret.”
“So consider this an old woman’s selfish request—today I have invited His Highness Prince Ling, His Highness Prince Cong, and all our distinguished guests, in hopes that you might bear witness for me.”
She smiled and turned to Pei Lan. “Lan’er, come here.”
Pei Lan hesitated a moment, then set down his cup and stepped forward before the Dowager Matriarch, addressing her. “Grandmother.”
“You’re no longer young. By rights you should have married three years ago, but urgent military matters called you to the northern frontier to guard our borders. Protecting the nation is a fine thing, but a man of age should marry, just as a woman of age should be wed. Now that you’ve returned, this engagement must not be delayed any further.”
Among the Pei family, devoted primarily to scholarly pursuits, this second grandson of the eldest branch was the sole one to have inherited her own martial legacy, and the Dowager Matriarch doted on him accordingly, believing he deserved the finest young woman in the world as his wife.
She raised her head and addressed the assembled guests. “Many of you likely already know that Lan’er’s engagement was arranged before he was even born. This old woman watched that young lady grow up and has always adored her, cherishing her as though she were my own granddaughter.”
Smiling warmly, she beckoned to Yun Xi. “A’Ting, you come here too.”
Yun Xi, cup in hand, remained motionless for a long moment.
Assuming she was simply shy, the Dowager Matriarch urged her on. “What are you standing there for? Come now—today, Grandmother will stand behind you in this matter.”
Yun Xi fell silent for a moment, then finally set down her cup and stepped forward.
The Dowager Matriarch took Pei Lan’s hand in one of hers and Yun Xi’s in the other. “The two of you exchanged birth charts the very year you were born, grew up together as childhood sweethearts, and though circumstances later separated you for many years across great distances, you have both finally returned to Jinling. A marriage bond such as this cannot simply be severed on a whim. Today, this old woman asks Prince Ling, Prince Cong, and all the distinguished guests present to bear witness as we choose an auspicious date to formally set your wedding.”
With these words spoken, Pei Lan said nothing, and neither did Yun Xi.
Among the seated guests, some looked delighted, some raised their cups, and a few, unable to contain themselves, had already begun offering congratulations.
The Dowager Matriarch turned her head to study Yun Xi’s and Pei Lan’s expressions, asking teasingly, “What’s this? A match settled since childhood, and now the two of you are suddenly shy about it?”
Amid the joyful clamor filling the hall, Pei Lan remained silent, while Yun Xi stood with her eyes lowered. Slowly, she opened her mouth and said something quietly.
The Dowager Matriarch paused, thinking she’d misheard, and leaned closer. “A’Ting, what did you just say?”
Yun Xi bit her lip and slowly withdrew her hand from the Dowager Matriarch’s grasp, stepping back to the center of the hall. She bowed formally and said, clearly and deliberately, “In answer to the Dowager Matriarch—what I said was, I will not marry him.”
The Dowager Matriarch stared at Yun Xi, stunned, and after a moment stumbled back a step.
She glanced at Pei Lan, then at Pei Ming, and gradually, her thoughts grew clear—she realized that Yun Xi had addressed her as “Dowager Matriarch” rather than “Grandmother” this time.
“A’Ting, has someone wronged you in some way?” the Dowager Matriarch asked gently.
Seeing Yun Xi remain silent, she continued, “Come here, tell Grandmother whatever grievance you have. Grandmother will see justice done for you!”
Yun Xi lowered her eyes and shook her head, then turned and walked toward Fang Fulan, extending her hand. “Sister, the betrothal chart.”
“A’Ting…”
“The betrothal chart.” Yun Xi lifted her eyes, blazing with an intensity that seemed almost to scorch.
Knowing her mind was made up, Fang Fulan glanced at her maid, Mingcui, standing nearby. Mingcui understood at once and produced the betrothal chart, handing it to Yun Xi.
Yun Xi returned to the center of the hall and presented the chart with both hands. “This is the betrothal chart exchanged between the Yun and Pei families nineteen years ago. Today, I return it to its rightful owner.”
The Dowager Matriarch said nothing. Pei Ming gestured to Steward Feng, who came forward to accept it.
Yun Xi stood with her hands clasped behind her back, her voice ringing out clear as struck metal. “The men of the House of Zhongyong may all be gone, but that does not mean there is no one left to speak for this household. No one may trample upon the Marquis’s house with impunity!”
“I too bear the surname Yun. I will be the one to head this household from now on, and I will be the one to decide its affairs. So the Dowager Matriarch need not feel any sense of debt toward us. Today, it is the House of Zhongyong that breaks off this engagement!”