Chapter 26 026 Where do you get the nerve to think I can forgive you...?
Meng Qingshan gave him only a cold glance, and Lu Yunye, such an arrogant person, shrank back, no longer daring to spout nonsense, and his expression became serious.
Qingli chuckled inwardly, realizing that she wasn't the only one afraid of him.
Through the white veil hanging from her hat, Meng Qingshan caught a glimpse of the smile on her lips. His eyebrows rose high as he stared intently at her, wondering what had made her so cheerful.
The small carriage was completely silent, except for the crude language from both sides and the thud of flesh being slapped against flesh.
Qingli pondered where things had gone wrong, and couldn't help but feel a little uneasy, wondering if she had missed something. Although the white veil blocked her view, the intense scrutiny made her lower her eyes.
Meng Qingshan snorted coldly. She really didn't want to see him. The reins were suddenly tightened, and the horse turned its head to the side. He dismounted and looked at Lu Yunye, who was sitting upright. "Young Master, since you're in such a hurry, then ride away."
"No rush," Lu Yunye chuckled, jumping down from the carriage. "Riding a horse is a bit unseemly."
Meng Qingshan didn't even let him finish speaking before lowering the carriage curtain and ordering, "Return to the manor."
Lu Yunye looked embarrassed, but his eyes lingered on the carriage with interest.
They remained silent the whole way. Qingli didn't know what he was angry about, and worried that saying anything would only make things worse, so she picked up a book and started reading.
Jiang Zhao and Jiang Yue were not so at ease. They huddled in the corner, their bodies pressed tightly against the car wall, only the coolness of the car body made them feel less afraid.
Meng Qingshan felt an inexplicable unease. Turning to the side, her face, no longer concealed by the veil, appeared even more radiant. The tension and unease that had been etched on her face seemed to have dissipated, and she exuded a serene and unique charm.
Her fingers were exceptionally long and straight compared to those of an ordinary woman. When she clenched them, her knuckles appeared slender, and her fingertips were slightly red from the force she exerted, like plum blossoms in the frost, making one want to pick them and play with them. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down, and he looked away from the book, where the blue cloud-shaped pattern was quite strange.
For some reason, he thought of the medicine bottle she had taken out at the Prince of Dingxi's mansion. Connecting the dots, his gaze towards her became more scrutinizing, and there was a hint of unease in it, turning his previous irritation into displeasure.
Qingli was quite interested in the book, but his intense gaze kept distracting her. In the small carriage, four people were crammed together, and she had no choice but to sit next to him. The carriage swayed, and her skirt kept brushing against his brocade robe, making half of her body feel hot and numb. She sighed inwardly and asked, "Cousin, is something wrong?"
"The book in your hand is different from the usual ones."
Qingli tucked her fingers in and closed the book naturally, handing it to Jiang Zhao. Jiang Zhao cleverly placed the book in his bundle before she said, "The unsold old books in the bookstore looked strange, and I was thinking of buying one to take a look, but I didn't expect the bookstore clerk to be so eloquent and sell them all to me."
As Qingli said this, she harbored the thought that he could not find out the truth. She blinked, and the dizziness caused by reading the book dissipated.
Meng Qingshan keenly noticed a corner of the stack of books and boxes; the purplish-red color gleamed with a certain luster, indicating that the sandalwood was very old and worth as much as three study rooms.
His breath hitched suddenly, and he lowered his gaze, afraid that he wouldn't be able to resist pulling her up and questioning her. He also felt a slight regret for letting her go out.
With a whistle, the carriage came to a stop. Jiang Yue and Jiang Zhao hurriedly got off the carriage and stood by the side, waiting for their young lady to disembark.
Jiang Zhao could see the carriage curtain swaying, but the young lady was nowhere to be seen. He reached out anxiously, but just an inch away, he heard an angry argument coming from inside, and he instinctively withdrew his hand.
Qingli's wrists were tightly gripped as she stood up. She struggled slightly, but the grip tightened even more. Her ears were filled with the pounding of her own heart. Now that her grandfather had arrived, the situation was settled, so she looked back without flinching, her eyes already showing a sharp edge.
How could Meng Qingshan hide the subtle changes in the atmosphere from her? He felt a sense of panic, as if the situation was no longer under his control. What had happened today that made her so self-righteous?
Did you see anyone today?
"What makes you say that?"
What should have been a question-and-answer session turned into a series of questions followed by counter-questions, suddenly pushing the atmosphere to its peak.
"I just feel that you've changed. You were so cautious a while ago."
Qingli laughed out loud. So he knew she needed his help and had ulterior motives, yet he still spoke so coldly and mercilessly. Thinking that the instigator of all this was right in front of her, she could no longer suppress her anger. She forcefully shook off his hand, but unexpectedly, the back of her hand hit the car wall, and she immediately felt a sharp pain. "You've changed too. You used to be fierce and aggressive, even selling your sister for personal gain, but now you can actually be humble and hypocritical."
"Where do you get the audacity to think I can forgive you!"
After Qingli shouted this, years of suppressed resentment and exhaustion from struggling to survive were completely released. Following this was the grievance in her heart, which rolled down her cheeks in large tears, and her hands trembled uncontrollably.
Meng Qingshan realized for the first time that she could be so sharp, and subconsciously wanted to explain that he had... but he seemed to think of something and suppressed his words, flicked his sleeves and got out of the carriage, standing in front of the door and ordering, "Without my order, you are not allowed to let Miss out."
The servants, already terrified, knelt down and immediately responded in unison.
Qingli stood on the carriage, her eyes cold and indifferent. The sun was setting, and the surroundings had become dim. The autumn wind began to blow fiercely, bringing a chill, but it was nothing compared to the chill in her heart.
When she stood beside Meng Qingshan, she didn't even look at him, and said coolly, "Since you know that we could still chat and laugh a few days ago, it was only because I needed your help."
She paused for a moment. The cold wind cut through the situation that Meng Qingshan had been deliberately ignoring, and he almost wanted to yell "Shut up!" He didn't dare to admit it, he didn't dare to listen, and he regretted that he couldn't help but test her. He should have been like when they first met, slowly, keeping his distance, maneuvering around her, and letting her use him to achieve her goals.
Utilization, in itself, is a way to connect and link different relationships.
Power and wealth meant nothing to him, but power could protect her and keep her safe, while wealth could provide her with a life of luxury. It was because of her that he was willing to do anything to obtain them.
He didn't want to think about her resolute departure, but she seemed to think otherwise, and he heard her say, "How can you think that a mere door can keep me here?"
Today she wore a primrose-colored satin long dress embroidered with chrysanthemums, with a matching vest over it. A rabbit fur trim around the neckline accentuated her slender neck, and her expression was extremely cold and stern.
Even after entering Dongwan Garden, Jiang Yue and Jiang Zhao still dared not breathe, glancing at their young mistress's face and standing fearfully at the door.
Unaware of the situation, Granny Sui took meticulous care of everyone, and her incessant chatter made the room feel less empty.
Worried that the young lady would be cold, Granny Sui would put out a warm basin every night to keep the whole room cozy, since there was plenty of gold, silver and charcoal in the private treasury.
Jiang Yue and Jiang Zhao slowly came to their senses. Jiang Yue took over the work from Granny Sui, while Jiang Zhao went out of the room to fetch the meal.
A moment later, Jiang Zhao entered the house carrying a huge food box. He hesitated for a moment before finally finding his voice, "Miss, the General is standing in the courtyard."
Upon hearing this, Granny Sui hurriedly tried to open the door to greet her, but Jiang Yue stopped her and turned away to set out the meal.
Qingli seemed not to hear, put the book down, walked to the table, and saw fresh mushrooms and bok choy, crispy duck, tofu soup, stir-fried chicken mushrooms, and shredded chicken noodle soup. The food was delicious and looked appealing, and she ate until she was full.
Jiang Zhao hesitated, as if he wanted to say something but then stopped.
Qingli pretended not to see it until the curtains were lowered, the lamps were blown out, and everything became quiet. In the courtyard, the voices of Jiang Yue and Jiang Zhao paying their respects could be heard softly, but he did not respond.
She tried her best to ignore the strange feeling in her heart and forced herself to close her eyes. She had just seen her grandfather today. She could tell that her grandfather spoke lightly, but the truth was probably not so. Otherwise, she would not have been wandering outside for so long. Especially when she thought about the assassination attempt she had encountered on the way, it seemed that with the death of the assassin, everything had disappeared without a trace.
She instinctively felt that the mastermind behind this was even more deeply hidden.
Thinking this, she drifted off to sleep, but her dream was chaotic. She floated back to a sweltering summer day, where the cicadas' incessant chirping made it almost impossible for her to hear the back-and-forth arguments. The scorching heat penetrated her body, and sweat poured down her forehead, running down to the corners of her eyes, making them sting and painful, preventing her from opening them.
She instinctively reached out to touch it, her fingers damp. Only then did she realize that she was crying. Her eyes welled up with tears, and her breathing became erratic. Looking at the letters scattered on the ground, and then at her brother who had always been kind to her, she said somewhat spoiledly, "How dare you look at my letters without my permission?"
After she finished yelling, she still felt like her heart had collapsed and the sky had fallen. On one hand, she felt that her brother was cruel, and on the other hand, she felt ashamed that she had been discovered.
She dared not pick up the letter, or even glance at it. It was written to her by the son of the owner of a jewelry shop on the street. She had become acquainted with him because she often went to look at jewelry. Unlike the cunning and scheming merchants she usually saw, he was as handsome as bamboo, with a refined and elegant face. He was a gentle and refined young man she had never met before.
The young girl was in love, and her feelings were vague and unclear. Although she found his letter pedantic, saccharine, and difficult to understand, she still wanted to keep it as a memento.
Her face burned with embarrassment at his abrupt rebuke. She didn't know how to deal with her father, and her mother was rarely smiling. Only her brother was lenient and virtuous, teaching her everything in detail. Although he was strict, she cared deeply about his feelings towards her.
Then came a buzzing argument that filled her ears with a whirring sound, and he finally ordered her not to leave the house.
She was terrified that her brother would never care about her again, and she also felt that her brother had restricted her too much. She had already lost her mind and shouted hysterically, "Meng Qingshan, you are a tyrannical and unreasonable villain who only knows how to fight and kill and thinks he is the only one who matters. The whole Taiyuan Prefecture knows that you rely on your wealth and power and act recklessly. You deserve to be cursed by everyone."
He watched her rage coldly, his eyes dark and unfathomable, and asked in a chilling tone, "Do you really like him that much?"
She was about to retort when he strode forward as if in a hurry and shoved her into the house. The brass lock clicked open, and his voice slipped in through the crack in the door, "He's not a good match. If you want to get married, I'll keep an eye out for you."
She stubbornly refused to turn back. Hearing the footsteps fading into the distance, she quickly peeked through the crack in the door and saw him stride out of the courtyard. She was angrily thinking that she was going on a hunger strike and that he would have to coax her three or four times before she would give in. Suddenly, she saw her mother under the tree, staring at her with resentment. She quickly withdrew her hand and retreated.
The sinister look in her eyes made her shudder. Qingli suddenly woke up and realized that it was not a dream. She moved her hands and feet to drive away the discomfort, got up, lifted the curtain, and walked to the window.
Tonight, the moon is round and bright, shining on the ground like a silver plate. The broad back of the person on the armchair in the courtyard is bathed in a halo of light, making it appear even more imposing, like a mountain rising from the ground, standing firm and silent in the face of wind and rain, guarding the place, which only evokes a sense of sorrow.
Her eyes stung a little, and she quickly retreated back to the bed. The curtains were still hanging, and the moonlight shone through the window lattice, ethereal and cold.
The relationship between the two was as fragile as paper, easily broken. Perhaps today she took the initiative to tear it apart, allowing the facts that she usually suppressed under her rationality to surface in her dream. Seeing him do this, she felt dazed, unable to distinguish whether the past five years were also a dream.
Her heart stirred, and she couldn't help but wonder if he also regretted abandoning her five years ago.
But reason calmed her down. She had spent countless sleepless nights counting down the hours, and she still couldn't forget him. What was the point of him doing this?
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