25
The suddenness of the event and the sheer shock left Ming Tan’s mind blank for a moment. In that first instant, she forgot to intervene, and by the time she reacted, it was already too late.
Although Shen Hua denied the accusations and tried to shut them down with lofty principles about speaking cautiously and avoiding baseless slander, no one knew how Ming Chu could talk so incessantly. For every sentence Shen Hua used to block her, Ming Chu would retort with ten.
Completely oblivious to the propriety of keeping private matters between two people, Ming Chu never missed an opportunity in her speech to drag Ming Tan into the fray. Within moments, she had painted Ming Tan as someone with two faces—one before others and another behind their backs—a pretentious vixen who flaunted herself openly day after day.
“You think that by acting so submissive, she’ll actually look at you with respect? Just look at how she’s dressed up today like a peacock. She doesn’t need to be scrutinized for marriage prospects; why else would she primp herself here at the temple if not to catch our attention and sabotage our betrothal?”
The rear hill was so quiet that Ming Chu’s voice sounded even clearer and more grating.
Ming Tan’s head buzzed with noise; she felt the carefully crafted image of talent, beauty, grace, and propriety she had nurtured all day crumbling bit by bit before her future husband.
What made it worse was that her usually sharp little mind could not conjure up even a single idea to salvage her reputation.
It was only upon hearing Ming Chu chatter about Princess Fengzhao that she recalled the tactic used against Fengzhao that day—among the Thirty-Six Stratagems, feigning faintness is the best strategy!
“A… A-Tan?”
“A-Tan, are you alright?”
Seeing Ming Tan’s body suddenly sway before she pressed her hand to her forehead as if dizzy, Bai Minmin and Zhou Jingwan hurriedly supported her.
Considering Zhou Jingwan’s frail constitution, Ming Tan steeled her resolve, tilted her head, and slumped directly onto Bai Minmin before squeezing her eyes shut, determined to feign unconsciousness.
Jiang Xu: “…”
Zhang Huaiyu, Shu Jingran, and Lu Ting, who seemed almost invisible, all twitched the corners of their mouths in unison.
Bai Minmin, however, looked somewhat alarmed and uncertain, unsure whether Ming Tan was pretending or had truly fainted. After all, someone as prideful as Ming Tan, having her shortcomings exposed by her own half-sister right in front of her fiancé, might very well have been overcome with rage and actually passed out.
Not far away, hearing the commotion, Ming Chu’s incessantly chattering mouth finally fell silent.
She hurried forward and found chaos ahead: Ming Tan lay slumped against Bai Minmin, her eyes tightly shut, while Zhou Jingwan and a group of maids stood nearby anxiously calling out, “Ah Tan!” “Miss!” If it weren’t for the four rather composed strange men standing nearby, she might have thought heaven had finally shown its mercy by causing this little vixen to drop dead on the spot.
Amused, she instinctively remarked, “Faking fainting again, are we?”
Ming Tan, still pretending to be unconscious: “…”
Ming Chu was just about to step forward to enjoy the spectacle when the man dressed in a long robe of pine-green brocade suddenly spoke: “Zhuiying.”
A dark figure emerged from nowhere, bowing his head and standing respectfully.
The man added, “Fetch a physician; she suffers from heatstroke.”
“What heatstroke? She’s clearly feigning faintness.” Ming Chu’s tone was no longer as brazen as before. She sized up the man in the pine-green brocade robe before her, hands clasped behind her back, unable to hide the admiration in her eyes. “May I ask who you are, sir, and what brings you here?”
Ming Tan, still pretending to be unconscious, detected the amusement in Ming Chu’s tone and nearly sat straight up in Bai Minmin’s arms.
A miscalculation. Busy with the imperial betrothal these past days, she hadn’t found time to deal with that fool, Ming Chu. This idiot had grown far too comfortable, daring to set her sights on her! man!
Fortunately, her man remained silent.
The fool continued, “There’s no need to trouble you with my fourth sister’s condition. Moreover, she is already betrothed; your intervention might tarnish her reputation. In my opinion—”
Ming Chu was halfway through speaking when, for some reason, her neck suddenly went numb, and she lost her voice.
She had learned a bit of amateur martial arts and recognized that someone had struck her mute acupoint. Clutching her throat in alarm and suspicion, she scanned her surroundings before glancing at the man before her. No, it couldn’t be; she hadn’t even seen him make a move!
Not far away, Zhang Huaiyu witnessed the scene and, fanning himself with his folding fan, remarked with considerable emotion that today, finally, it wasn’t him receiving such treatment.
…?
Ming Tan kept her eyes closed, unaware of what was happening. She only knew that Ming Chu, that fool, had not finished speaking when silence suddenly fell all around. She wished to crack open her eyes just a sliver to steal a glance, but the direction in which she had fainted made it rather difficult.
It was Zhou Jingwan, observant as ever, who leaned close and whispered into her ear, “It seems your future husband has sealed your acupoint of speech.”
Sealed acupoint? Upon hearing this, Ming Tan instinctively squeezed Bai Minmin’s hand.
But with her eyes still shut, she failed to notice and mistakenly grasped the hand of a maid instead. The maid, startled, exclaimed with delight, “The Fourth Miss seems to have moved!”
“…”
I did not.
Upon hearing this, Jiang Xu cast a faint glance at her before shifting his gaze toward Shu Jingran.
Shu Jingran quickly snapped out of his amused observation, covered his mouth with a light cough, and stepped forward to speak politely: “Since the Fourth Young Lady has suffered from heatstroke, perhaps she could rest briefly in the side chamber while waiting for the physician.”
Zhou Jingwan nodded. “Many thanks to Your Highness, and many thanks to Second Young Master Shu.”
Shu Jingran said, “In that case, we shall not trouble you further. The noon heat is intense; if there is no urgent matter, the young ladies may wait until dusk before descending the mountain.”
With these words, their party departed swiftly.
Once the audience for the spectacle had vanished and Ming Chu’s clamor ceased, this farce quickly drew to a close. Ming Tan also slowly feigned awakening, rising from atop Bai Minmin.
She gazed at the retreating figures until they disappeared, lost in thought for a while. After a long pause, she suddenly stood up and returned silently to her chamber.
Bai Minmin and Zhou Jingwan, sensing something was amiss, hurriedly followed her inside. But the moment the door closed, Mingtan began pacing frantically around the table. After circling back and forth for a while, she sat down, poured herself a cup of tea, drained it in one gulp, and then lay down peacefully on the couch, hands folded neatly over her lower abdomen.
“Let me be alone.”
Bai Minmin: “…”
Zhou Jingwan: “…”
Though Ming Tan spoke of staying calm, her mind never ceased speculating about the impression her future husband held of her, and whether she would receive a letter of engagement annulment upon returning home. Yet, the Emperor’s word was golden and unbreakable; he would certainly not go back on his promise.
Yes, that was exactly it.
Since there was no possibility of him retracting his word, as long as the engagement remained intact, all would be well. Once married, her husband would surely discover that she was an impeccable wife—chaste, quiet, virtuous, talented, and beautiful.
But it’s still so! Embarrassing! Boo hoo hoo hoo hoo!
Ming Tan covered her face with both hands, rolling back and forth on the couch.
She didn’t even dare to carefully recall the scene from earlier, because even the slightest thought of it made a suffocating sensation rise involuntarily within her.
Meanwhile, the time limit on Ming Chu’s speech restriction had just expired. After hearing Zhou Jingwan say “Thank you, Your Highness,” she had been filled with confusion. Once able to speak again, she immediately summoned a maid to inquire and finally learned that the handsome man dressed in long robes of pine-green brocade was none other than Ming Tan’s fiancé—His Highness, the Prince of Dingbei!
Ming Chu froze for a moment, jealousy surging like a tide that completely overwhelmed her already scant reason. She drew her soft whip and lashed it heavily against the tree with a backhand strike! At that very instant, she suddenly changed her original plan.
–
Since Ming Tan had no desire to linger at the Great Xiangguo Temple even for a moment, they took their midday vegetarian meal and immediately prepared to return to the Jing’an Marquis’s residence.
The noon sun was scorching, and the main road offered little shade. The coachman suggested to Lady Pei that they take a smaller path instead; it was less traveled, secluded, and remarkably serene.
Lady Pei, considering they were accompanied by guards and that it was broad daylight with no apparent danger, readily agreed.
On the way there, Ming Tan had shared a carriage with Lady Pei, while Ming Chu rode with Shen Hua. However, on the return journey, Ming Chu was visibly reluctant and insisted on squeezing into the same carriage as Ming Tan and Lady Pei, making it abundantly clear that she refused to sit with Shen Hua.
She had no desire to share the carriage with Shen Hua, nor did Shen Hua particularly wish to sit with her. Lady Pei understood perfectly; it seemed that during their earlier arranged meeting, some minor incidents had caused tension between the two. In the end, Lady Pei rode with Ming Chu, while Shen Hua shared a carriage with Ming Tan.
Inside the carriage, Shen Hua briefly explained the circumstances of the arranged meeting to Ming Tan—
Previously, Lady Pei had arranged for Shen Hua and Ming Chu to meet separately by the Release Life Pond and beneath the Prayer Tree. This way, they could legitimately linger for a while, feeding the brocade carp in the pond or tossing red wishing cords onto the tree branches, thus creating an opportunity to converse and observe each other openly.
Concubine Liu, having placed a spy beside Lady Pei and thus aware of the arrangement in advance, secretly tampered with matters, swapping the locations where the two young men were to meet their prospective brides.
Little did she know that Shen Hua had already caught wind of part of the scheme; she simply decided to turn the plot to her own advantage. Following the matron assigned to guide her toward the Release Life Pond to meet the Sixth Young Master of the Fengchun Marquis’s household, she simultaneously sent her maid ahead to inform the Second Young Master of the Li family, head of the Imperial Academy, that the meeting place had been changed.
Ming Chu arrived at the Prayer Tree only to find no one there; realizing belatedly what had occurred, she rushed to the Release Life Pond, but by then both young masters had already been captivated by Shen Hua.
Though both young masters observed propriety and dared not overstep bounds, each ingeniously steered the conversation to engage Shen Hua, clearly displaying signs of jealous rivalry. Witnessing this, Ming Chu was naturally furious beyond measure!
After hearing this convoluted tale, Ming Tan’s gloomy mood lifted slightly.
At noon, the summer heat was oppressive, but fortunately, the narrow path was shaded by trees, and a breeze drifting through the woods brought a touch of coolness.
Ming Tan and Shen Hua were chatting when suddenly a cry of alarm erupted from outside the carriage. Both women froze, then lifted the curtain to look out, only to see a band of burly bandits charging out of the woods in broad daylight!
“How dare you! Do you know whose carriage this is? Do you value your lives or not?” shouted the lead guard, brandishing the scabbard of his sword.
The bandit leader also lifted his chin, brandishing the knife in his hand: “We brothers only want wealth, not lives! Those who know what’s good for them had better hand over all their gold, silver, and jewels to me!”
The guards of the Jing’an Marquis’s household are no pushovers; if just any riff-raff could rush up and snatch things, what kind of protection would they even be providing?
The two guards at the front exchanged a glance, then without another word, drew their swords and charged forward. The guards behind them split into two groups: one advanced to join the fight, while the other positioned themselves to protect the carriage. Within moments, a fierce melee erupted.
But as the fight wore on, the guards began to sense something amiss. These bandits executed every move with precise discipline; they were far from reckless brutes who simply charged forward with blades drawn, proving exceedingly difficult to subdue.
After a brief exchange of blows as a formality, the bandit leader gave a signal. Immediately, a group of bandits suddenly converged on the carriage where Shen Hua and Ming Tan were seated.
The guards surrounding the carriage were momentarily overwhelmed; a long blade slashed through the curtain, leaving Shen Hua and Ming Tan frozen in terror.
Yet the bandit who had cut the curtain was equally bewildered. Hadn’t they been told to capture only the one unskilled in martial arts? But both young ladies sat softly and dazedly inside, offering no resistance whatsoever, neither appearing capable of any fighting prowess.
He glanced behind him, yet none of his companions could spare a moment to help identify their target.
Both girls simultaneously drew out a hairpin and cried in unison, “Don’t come closer!”
The bandits: “…”
Both young girls thought they looked quite fierce.
The guards of the Jing’an Marquis’s household were truly valiant; with the situation urgent and no time to delay, the bandit glanced behind him, disregarded everything else, and simply chose the better-looking girl. He reasoned that if she weren’t exceptionally beautiful, someone wouldn’t have spent such a huge sum and taken such great risks just to eliminate her as a threat. Finding his logic perfectly sound, he grabbed Ming Tan and yanked her out.
Ming Tan’s face was pale, her entire body trembling. As soon as she was dragged out of the carriage, she raised her hairpin, intending to stab at the man.
But in the next instant, the bandits threw her onto a horse. The hairpin struck deep, sending the horse into a frenzy; it reared up on its hind legs, neighing wildly!
The struggle was intense, and the sudden shift in circumstances caught everyone off guard.
Just as Ming Tan seemed destined to be thrown to the ground by the maddened horse, at that critical moment, a martial artist’s arm band whipped through the air with fierce precision, coiling tightly around her waist before snapping taut.
The world spun wildly around her. Ming Tan caught a faint hint of sandalwood fragrance at the tip of her nose, while the corner of her eye glimpsed a figure clad in pine-green.
In the next instant, she was pulled forward by that sash and fell into an unfamiliar embrace.
Instinctively, she clung to something. Lowering her head, she saw the sash loosening from her waist, embroidered with intricate patterns that felt slightly familiar, woven with black-silver threads and two fingers wide—
In a flash, she suddenly remembered something.
On the night of the Lantern Festival, she fell into the water; he fastened his sash.
Ming Tan, still trembling from shock, swallowed hard after a long moment. Raising her eyes to meet those somewhat cold ones, she whispered softly, “H-husband… is it you?”