Chapter 17: Hidden Intentions
Fu Yan'an was surprised by her bold words. She tilted her head to look at him, her eyes filled with innocent naivety. He was somewhat hurt: "You... are ridiculous. What kind of man marries a memorial tablet? What kind of propriety is this? You don't believe me at all?"
Meng Qingci asked him, feigning confusion, "If women can marry and remain widows while holding their memorial tablets, why can't men?"
Fu Yan'an was so angry at her unorthodox arguments that his face darkened: "Absurd, it's simply outrageous."
Meng Qingci remained unmoved: "What you say is nothing but honeyed words and poison to me. How long can you expect someone who doesn't even value my life to have any 'love' for me? Your grandfather was willing to die for your grandmother. What about you? Will you be willing to die for me then? But I'll be dead by then, so how will I know?"
Fu Yan'an's sincerity was trampled upon by her, yet he felt pity for her because of the sorrow in her words. His heart ached as if it were being pierced by a thousand needles. He frowned, his chest heaving, suppressing the surging violence within him. The tenderness in his eyes vanished completely, and his voice turned cold: "Don't think that you can make me stop in my anger and talk things out by being unreasonable and saying hurtful things. You want to leave the manor and sever all ties with me? Absolutely not. This matter is not up to you."
"Ha, you call yourself a high-ranking official in the Ministry of Justice, yet you try to fool a mere woman like me with such childish words?" Meng Qingci, seeing that the time was right, slowly unleashed her true trump card, her tone full of sarcasm: "How can you guarantee that her incurable illness is indeed a serious disease? You, an official in the Ministry of Justice who is a brilliant judge and deeply favored by the Emperor, actually trust a woman you've only met once, who covets your position as his wife? When you handle cases in the Ministry of Justice, are you also so quick to believe what others say without verifying anything? Oh—I see," she deliberately dragged out her words: "You usually use the methods of torture to extract confessions, don't you?"
Fu Yan'an knew that she had seen the bloodstains on his body that day, and now she was using those words to stab him, which angered him greatly. In a few moments, he keenly sensed something was amiss. Although Qing'er was stubborn, she had never spoken to him so harshly or pressed him so relentlessly. Sensing something was amiss, he asked her suspiciously, "Do you know something?"
Meng Qingci turned her stunningly beautiful face away, not even bothering to glance at him, her disgust evident in her eyes: "You think you're so powerful, this Assistant Minister of Justice? Why don't you investigate yourself? What do you need me for, a maid who can only be confined to the inner quarters and manipulated by others?"
"You...you're spouting nonsense! When have I ever treated you like a servant? You have no conscience!" Fu Yan'an was completely under her thumb, his anger simmering with frustration. He suppressed his turbulent emotions, his voice carrying a barely perceptible hint of compromise: "Put down the hairpin first. When have I ever truly forced you? It's just that you're in a hurry to leave the manor now. I will investigate Su Xiang's matter thoroughly and give you an explanation!"
"I don't care what you think, I'll make this clear today. There's no way you'll make me your concubine, unless you want me to end up like your grandmother, in which case I'll die right here in front of you." She knew that Fu Yan'an's carefully prepared pressure had been completely disrupted by her. His momentum had waned. While she spoke harshly, she secretly breathed a sigh of relief.
Fu Yan'an looked at the gleaming hairpin tip on her neck. Her resolute gaze made him dare not gamble, so he had no choice but to compromise: "Fine, I won't get married. You wait for me, you wait for me for two more years."
Just as Fu Yan'an understood Meng Qingci, Meng Qingci also knew what Fu Yan'an most wanted to hold onto at this moment. She immediately assured him, "Whatever you say. But I need to leave the manor first! I can't stay in this Marquis's manor for even a day longer!"
This is her ultimate goal.
Although Fu Yan'an had not yet begun investigating Su Xiang, he was already seven or eight parts convinced by Meng Qingci's words and her vehement attitude. Knowing that he was in the wrong and that there was no way to turn things around today, he had no choice but to agree to let her leave the mansion first.
Watching Fu Yan'an finally turn and leave, the door closing behind him, Meng Qingci snorted coldly, casually tossing the hairpin she was clutching onto the dressing table with a crisp clang. Her cold, almost divine features were reflected in the mirror.
She thought to herself: "Wait until you find out the truth? Ha, by then she'll have long since fled, left this troublesome capital city. Today's matter is nothing but a smokescreen to mislead Fu Yan'an."
As for Miss Su, whom she had never met but who harbored malicious intentions towards her, whether this would provoke Fu Yan'an's retaliation was not something she was considering.
She was never a kind or compassionate person to begin with. In any case, it was that Miss Su who first had the wrong idea, wanting to seek wealth and power through danger. Since she was not as skilled as others, she had no one to blame but herself.
The following day, Meng Qingci intended to leave the mansion quietly as early as possible, and take a boat directly out of the capital region to completely get rid of the mess that was in the Marquis's mansion.
Before she could finish washing and dressing, Fu Heng's guard, Mo Jian, came to her door.
Mo Jian clasped his hands in greeting: "Good morning, Miss Qing'er. My master requests your presence at Wuheng Mountain House."
Meng Qingci was extremely unwilling, her face was so cold it could drip water, but she knew it was not the right time to offend Fu Heng, so she could only swallow her anger and follow Mo Jian to Wuheng Mountain House. As she walked, she asked, "Why did you call me at such an urgent time? Do you know what it is about?"
Mo Jian was given a cold look by Meng Qingci, and helplessly touched his nose: "The master's official robe was accidentally torn yesterday. None of the embroiderers in the mansion are capable of doing anything. They all said they wanted to mend it perfectly. In the whole mansion, only Miss Qing'er has the ability."
Meng Qingci suppressed the anger rising in her heart. If it weren't for the fact that she was about to leave the manor, she would have definitely given those women in the embroidery room a good beating. How dare they scheme against her! But she was not going to swallow her anger in silence. She sneered, "It's a good thing they're not very skilled, but they have Zhang Xianmei's silver tongue! If you didn't know better, you'd think they were the masters and I was just a servant in the embroidery room being ordered around! In my opinion, they don't need to do any more work. They can just find out which clever person in the manor and have them point them out to the masters."
Mo Jian was sweating as he was rebuked. He thought to himself that this was just an excuse to find her in the past. How was he supposed to respond?
"Ha, I no longer serve in the manor. I'm only here because of your Third Master's reputation. They have no reputation here." Meng Qingci was dissatisfied with his silence. She stepped into Wuheng Mountain House, turned around and looked Mo Jian up and down with disdain, and asked arrogantly, "What? Their monthly allowances don't end up in my pocket, but I've become the worst of the worst, only able to do the work they left behind? Your master is always strict with rules, yet you allow the embroidery workshop to slack off like this?"
Mo Jian couldn't possibly misunderstand at this point. He glanced guiltily at Meng Qingci, who was standing inside the door, seemingly ready to leave if he didn't speak up and satisfy her. He had no choice but to bite the bullet and say, "Of course, there must be a punishment?"
Meng Qingci raised her eyebrows slightly, intrigued: "Oh? How will you be punished? Tell me!"
'Heavens!' Mo Jian thought to himself, thinking that Mo Song was being polite when he said she had a bad temper; Qing'er was clearly someone who held a grudge.
In short, "better you than me," he gritted his teeth and replied, "One month of experience points as punishment, and... fifteen strokes of the cane."
Meng Qingci's expression softened, and she nodded in satisfaction: "Just let me know when you're going to give me the beating. After all, I didn't get my monthly allowance today, so I need to hear some sound. Even the sound of the beating will do."
After saying that, she turned and went inside, asking in a rather cheerful mood, "Where is it?" Her skirt twirled and swirled, making her look beautiful in an instant.
Mo Jian had no interest in appreciating it, and even cautiously said, "It's in Master's study, Miss Qing'er, please go in by yourself."
Meng Qingci stepped into the study, only to find that Fu Heng was not there. His scarlet official robes and embroidery were placed on the soft couch under the window, and a few plates of exquisite pastries and a pot of tea were prepared on a small table next to him.
She was happy to avoid dealing with Fu Heng, so she stepped forward, picked up the official robe, and examined it carefully. She found that the hem of the robe was indeed torn, and the edge was also worn. Ordinary needlework could hardly fix it.
Fortunately, the embroidery master hired for Fu Jingyu back then was exceptionally skilled, and she learned a thing or two from him, which was enough to help her catch up in this emergency.
It's likely that if the newly made official robes hadn't been made too late to be worn, someone of Fu Heng's stature would never have worn this damaged robe again.
After a moment's thought, she decided to finish quickly, deftly selecting a few strands of silk thread and carefully matching the colors. If she finished by noon, she could still leave by boat in the afternoon. Her brows relaxed a bit, and even the morning light filtering through the window seemed exceptionally bright.
Perhaps it was because she had been having many dreams at night lately and was feeling listless, but she soon became sleepy.
She took a sip of tea to clear her head and continued her embroidery, but soon she felt tired again. After going through this cycle of torment, she gritted her teeth and finished the last stitch, making sure the stitches were perfectly neat. Looking at the flawless patch, she let out a long sigh of relief.
Fu Heng looked up from his official duties and gazed at the soft couch by the window. The setting sun cast its golden rays upon Qing'er's porcelain-white face, outlining her serene and graceful features, like a sleeping goddess in the sunset.
In her sleep, Meng Qingci's lips murmured softly, her eyelashes fluttering slightly as she groggily opened her eyes, her consciousness not yet fully returning. Only when she realized that she was reclining on a soft couch in the study of Wuheng Mountain House, and that Fu Heng was reviewing official documents behind the rosewood desk, did she suddenly wake up.
She sat up abruptly, the crimson official robe covering her slipping off. A unique, cool, and serene scent of cypress and pine, characteristic of Fu Heng, wafted through the air, seeping into her body and lingering there.
"Awake?" Fu Heng's voice was clear and pleasant as he placed the pen down.
Meng Qingci nodded subconsciously, then realized that she had slept through the entire afternoon! She was startled and her wary gaze quickly swept over the gilded incense burner with auspicious beasts in the corner of the room, but then she dismissed the suspicion. When she came, there was no incense burning in the room, and the window in front of the soft couch was open. She had slept so soundly by some strange twist of fate.
Fu Heng took in her subtle movements, a barely perceptible smile flickering in his slender eyes, and asked her in a good mood, "Are you hungry?"
Meng Qingci shook her head, about to get off the bed, but her gaze suddenly froze as she noticed that her shoes were neatly placed on the footstool of the soft couch, and the hem of Fu Heng's scarlet official robe was completely covering her feet, which were only covered by silk stockings!
Before she transmigrated, her worldview was such that wearing socks over a man's clothes, or even going barefoot or with bare legs, was not a problem. But now, she lived in a dynasty with strict feudal ethics, where a woman showing her feet to anyone other than her husband was considered frivolous.
Fu Heng was a feudal scholar-official whose rules were ingrained in his bones. He didn't even give his mother any face. He covered her feet with his official robes, which was a perverse act and a crime that could cost her her life.
What alarmed her most was that there probably wasn't even a female mosquito in Wuheng Mountain House, so who had taken off her shoes?
She looked up in alarm, only to be met with Fu Heng's gentle, smiling eyes.
Meng Qingci gripped his scarlet official robes and slowly pulled them away, her throat bobbing, but she couldn't utter a single word.
Fu Heng seemed to understand all her embarrassment and panic, and said nonchalantly, "It's alright."
A note from the author:
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If you like this, please leave a comment and let me know [hugs]. Although I can't update as much right now, I'll try my best to save up some chapters [let me see][cheering][heart]
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