Chapter 33 Lightly Teasing and Slowly Gathering
Fu Heng arrived in great haste. He had ridden at breakneck speed, his body covered in the lingering frost of the mountain night, his clothes carrying a chilling aura. Yet, upon seeing Meng Qingci, he became unhurried and composed.
With a soft 'click', the jade clasp at Fu Heng's waist came undone.
Meng Qingci subconsciously struggled to free her bound hands, her slender waist swaying slightly in the moonlight, like a soft branch trembling in the wind.
The cold moonlight illuminated Fu Heng's sharp features, his face deep and sinister, which suddenly filled Meng Qingci with fear. She instinctively tried to shrink back, but he pressed her firmly to the spot, unable to move an inch.
Fu Heng raised his hand and gripped her chin, the force not strong, yet not allowing her to break free. His voice was low and slow, each word clear: "If you want to call me godfather, I'll accept it; if you don't want to be trapped in this mansion, I'll grant your wish; you spend lavishly every day, and I've never said no." His knuckles tightened slightly as he leaned closer, his breath icy: "There's only one thing you shouldn't do: try to get rid of me."
The bed gradually became filled with the scent of pine and cypress wood emanating from Fu Heng, a scent that Meng Qingci was now all too familiar with, as if it were etched into her very bones.
Lately, she seemed to have developed a physical attraction to Fu Heng. When she didn't see him for a while, she would miss him, miss his scent, miss the warmth of his embrace, miss the touch of his fingertips. She just wanted to be close to him, to be close to him, to be tender and affectionate.
The feeling wasn't overwhelming, but rather like an undercurrent, a subtle, lingering entanglement, yet it was precisely this that made Meng Qingci even more terrified.
The fear in her eyes was as clear and fragile as thin ice. Fu Heng stared into those beautiful eyes that could almost drown a person, and easily understood the silent panic within them.
Fu Heng's slender index finger lingered on her eyebrows and eyes, as if caressing a priceless treasure. His narrow eyes gradually warmed, and his voice was gentle and persuasive: "Don't be afraid, you just like me."
He traced his fingertips along her nose, lips, chin, and slender neck, then gently touched her heart. His eyes relaxed, and he said with a joyful expression, "I am here with you too."
A violent shiver ran through Meng Qingci's spine without warning, like a chilling snake surging through her entire body, almost suffocating her.
Meng Qingci didn't miss the fleeting madness in his eyes. She wisely softened her stance immediately, her eyes glistening with tears, her voice soft and sweet, carrying just the right amount of coquettishness: "I didn't, I was just... just being affectionate and silly with you. You love me so much, how could you really hold it against me?"
Fu Heng chuckled softly: "Knowing you miss me, that's why I cherish you."
She was like the famous zither that Fu Heng received in his youth, one he could never get enough of playing.
In the past, when playing the zither, I would always pluck and twist gently, and the sound would suddenly rise up like thunder breaking the sky, causing the strings to tremble violently as if they were about to break, emitting a painful cry.
Meng Qingci stared blankly at a point above her head, her chest heaving, her lips slightly parted as if someone were choking her.
Whenever she wouldn't tolerate him, he would exploit her weaknesses, wreaking havoc without restraint. But today, today it seemed...
However, she never knew Fu Heng could go to such lengths; he actually... he actually...
An unusual atmosphere permeated the room, both familiar and strange to her. Something snapped the string in her heart, leaving her feeling ashamed and furious.
Fu Heng got off the bed, poured himself a cup of tea, and downed it in one gulp, a trace of her flavor still lingering in his mouth: "Want to know, if I came tonight, what would you do?" He sighed: "You wouldn't want to know."
At this moment, Meng Qingci was no longer listening to a word he said. Her hands had already been released, and she abruptly covered her face. A few broken sobs escaped through her fingers, and then her thin shoulders began to tremble uncontrollably, tears flowing down her face even before she could speak.
Seeing how frightened she was, Fu Heng went back to the couch, pulled her into his arms, and coaxed her, "It's alright, you just like me too much, don't be afraid." He paused, then smiled and said, "I like you very much."
Today, Meng Qingci seemed to have had her hard shell completely shattered, finally revealing her softest core. She broke down and sobbed, her body trembling, and no amount of coaxing and comforting from Fu Heng could help her.
In the end, she cried herself to sleep, and drifted off to sleep in his arms. Fu Heng held her in his arms, his handsome face as deep and unfathomable as the sea. After a long while, he poured the entire cup of water mixed with his heart's blood into Meng Qingci.
The next day, just as dawn broke, the resounding bells of the Great Buddha Temple rang out. The chanting of the novices during their morning prayers came in waves, washing away the morning mist in the mountains.
Meng Qingci was wrapped tightly in a heavy cloak by Fu Heng and carried down the mountain in a luxurious carriage that sped away.
Since returning from the Great Buddha Temple, Meng Qingci had been listless all day long, a lingering weariness between her brows. She seemed to no longer resist Fu Heng, but she was as indifferent as a still pond, exuding a detached and lazy aura.
At night, with the candlelight flickering red, Fu Heng felt a growing closeness and dependence on him. It was an almost instinctive feeling, one that only grew in the darkness.
Fu Heng thought that she was young and had never experienced love, and that she was also upright and stubborn. Once she fell in love, her mind would be in turmoil, so he did not expose her feelings.
That day, Meng Qingci sat alone on the soft couch by the window. Her gaze lingered on the half-closed window, repeatedly thinking about what she had said to Zhu Youyi two days ago.
In the end, she tightly gripped a round fan embroidered with "Begonia in Spring," her knuckles turning slightly white.
Xia Guang walked in lightly, carrying a bowl of chilled plum juice, a layer of fine water droplets already condensed on the outside of the bowl. Seeing her still sitting alone, gazing lazily out the window, Xia Guang couldn't help but sigh inwardly.
She approached, gently placed the cool porcelain bowl on the table, and softly advised, "Miss, have some plum juice to cool down and feel more refreshed."
Hearing the call of the rosy dawn, Meng Qingci turned around, picked up the porcelain bowl, and drank half a bowl of sour plum soup. The cool, sweet and sour taste seemed to dispel some of the pent-up emotions in her chest.
She gently set down the bowl, her eyes regaining some clarity, and said softly to Xia Guang, "Go and summon Mo Song."
Xia Guang noticed that Meng Qingci had become increasingly taciturn lately, and felt worried, but she didn't dare to ask too many questions. When she received the instruction, she responded softly and withdrew. Not long after, she led Mo Song quietly into the room.
Mo Song stepped forward, bowed respectfully, and asked in a steady voice, "Does the young lady have any instructions?"
Meng Qingci's expression was indifferent as she pulled a piece of paper from her sleeve and handed it over: "Go and ask the clerk in charge of drafting documents at the yamen to come over. You need to carefully check the accounts on this list again," she said calmly. "All the land, shops, and houses listed on this list must be transferred to Third Master's name. The transfer should be done in one hand and the banknotes in the other. Tell the eldest son's family to prepare them in advance."
Mo Song was taken aback upon hearing this. After all, these days, Miss Meng only liked to buy some fancy clothes and accessories. If she was vain and greedy for enjoyment, she had never been seen wearing them. She simply ordered them to be put into the storeroom and then never touched them again.
It seems more like he's just using this as an excuse to go for a stroll outside the mansion. To directly request to buy property like this is truly unprecedented.
He was surprised. He took the list with both hands and glanced at it. Even though he had handled countless huge assets under Fu Heng's name, he couldn't help but gasp and exclaim in surprise: Good heavens, this girl is truly a woman who doesn't speak up until she does. Her scale is beyond the reach of others.
Mo Song focused his attention and examined the list again. He knew what was going on: if he was not mistaken, the list on the paper probably contained the entire wealth of the Zhu family, including even the clan's lands!
He pondered for a moment, about to look up and reply, when he met Meng Qingci's cold gaze. Her eyes were as indifferent as newly melted snow, yet they inexplicably sent a chill down his spine.
Mo Song became increasingly cautious in his words, tentatively asking, "Then... should we invite the head of the Zhu family and the clan leader to come along? After all... these properties..." He left his words unfinished, hinting at something more.
Meng Qingci casually waved the round fan in her hand, the surface of the fan rippling with a slight breeze. A faint sneer appeared on her lips as she said coldly, "You don't need to worry about that. Naturally, I will settle accounts with whoever's name is written on the inscription."
In Minzhou, nothing could escape the eyes and ears of the governor's office, and Mosong was naturally well aware of the Zhu family's affairs.
Although the Zhu family held the top position in the dye merchants' guild, they were, in reality, nothing more than ordinary merchants. The previous head of the family had no son to inherit the family business, and now each branch of the family was making a fortune. As long as it didn't affect the annual tax payment, the governor's office turned a blind eye to their squabbles over their personal wealth behind closed doors, too lazy to bother with them.
This Miss Meng is not some kind-hearted bodhisattva; she has always been indifferent to other people's business.
Mo Song never expected that after only meeting the eldest daughter of the Zhu family once or twice, he would suddenly get involved in the Zhu family's mess. It was clear that he wanted to support the weak and helpless orphan girl.
Although the Zhu family was quite wealthy, it was ultimately nothing in the eyes of the governor's office. However, this matter involved the livelihood of the entire Zhu clan and was no ordinary transaction.
Acquiring property was a minor matter; overthrowing the Zhu family was a major one, and Mosong dared not act on his own initiative.
He respectfully accepted Meng Qingci's instructions, took the list, turned around, and strode straight towards Fu Heng's study.
Inside Fu Heng's study, Mo Song lowered his head and recounted in detail how Meng Qingci and the eldest daughter of the Zhu family met and interacted at Daxiong Temple.
Fu Heng listened silently, his expression unreadable. He tapped his index finger lightly twice on the list of all the Zhu family's properties, making a very faint sound.
"Leave the form with me," he said calmly, his tone revealing neither joy nor anger. "You can go now."
Mo Song dared not say more, respectfully replied "Yes," and quietly left the study.
When Meng Qingci heard Xia Guang report that Fu Heng had withheld the form, she scoffed.
Then, with graceful and elegant movements, she rose and sat before the dressing table. Picking up a comb, she slowly and deliberately smoothed her disheveled hair, her every movement exuding a refined and alluring air. She then set down the comb, chose a kingfisher feather hairpin with a cicada-shaped design, and casually tucked it into her hair. She then put on a pair of exquisitely translucent jade gourd-shaped earrings. The jade's clear, lustrous color swayed gently at her ears with each subtle movement, creating a shimmering effect.
Finally, she dipped her fingertip in rouge and, looking into the mirror, slowly applied it to her lips. In a moment, the person in the mirror shed her previous languor, and her eyes and brows were once again adorned with bright and vibrant color.
Holding the embroidered begonia in spring in her hand, she stepped into Fu Heng's study.
The beautiful woman held a round fan lightly, partially obscuring her jade-like face, which made her head appear lowered and her eyebrows delicate and arched. Her eyes seemed to gaze with affection as they moved, exuding a refined and graceful charm. Her waist was as slender as a willow, so thin it could be grasped in one hand. As she walked, her skirt fluttered lightly, revealing her long, shapely legs, which were faintly visible beneath the light veil. Her steps were graceful and unsteady, like spring clouds reflecting the moon, or autumn waters reflecting stars.
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The author says: My biological clock is always changing. Yesterday I had to go out to run some errands, and I also had some premenstrual discomfort, so this is what happened.
I can guarantee daily updates, and judging by the time, it's not midnight anymore. Thank you for your understanding, my lovely readers.
The tweet titled "Destiny"
Wang Yuanzhen saved Xiao Yan's life, but Xiao Yan repaid kindness with enmity, forcibly seizing his property.
As Xiao Yan lay dying from his severe injuries, he saw a woman, graceful in the light and shadow, wearing a jade lotus headdress with two flowing ribbons, and a Guanyin mole between her brows, like a celestial maiden descended to earth.
He should have repaid the debt of saving his life, but instead he committed despicable acts.
Mine clearance:
1. Classic melodramatic plot, 1v2, male lead is completely virgin, female lead is a delicate beauty × a ruthless hero.
2. A fictional, chaotic medley of events, with numerous warlords vying for power.
3. The trope of forcibly taking or seizing property.
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