Chapter 11: A Secret Meeting

All of Jiang Wu’s many worries were cast aside the moment she heard Mo Yangzhou’s voice. What remained was only the longing from the days they had been apart and the joy of finally seeing each other again.

Mo Yangzhou usually performed opera, but today, without the accompaniment of other instruments, he simply sang a short melody.

Such melodies were typically sung by women, or if by men, usually by young, delicate youths.

Yet Mo Yangzhou’s voice, gentle yet masculine, gave the tender and evocative song a unique charm.

Jiang Wu listened attentively; he was singing a song expressing love and longing.

Her heart seemed to be gently touched, filled with a delicate sweetness. She scolded herself inwardly, then quickly suppressed these feelings. At her age, how could she still feel as if experiencing the first stirrings of love?

Though Jiang Wu had resolved to take Mo Yangzhou as her son-in-law after their divorce, she did not believe there was deep affection involved. It was simply that she might never find another person so well suited to her, someone who always put her first and tolerated her every flaw.

As for love, she had suffered once before; at her age, she could no longer endure such turmoil. With this thought, her restless heart gradually calmed.

Qingyang rose nearby. “I’ll go sit in the outer room,” he said, essentially freeing up the space for the two of them.

Left alone in the room, separated by the translucent curtain, Jiang Wu remained silent and listened until he finished singing before speaking softly, “Come over here.”

Perhaps because she had spent so much time with Chu Ling, Jiang Wu sometimes felt a subtle resemblance between herself and Mo Yangzhou—a feeling she loathed deeply. So when Mo Yangzhou lifted the curtain and approached, her expression involuntarily softened.

“Madam,” Mo Yangzhou greeted her with a proper bow.

Most of the time, they maintained such courteous distance, to the point that Qingyang’s departure was unnecessary.

Jiang Wu beckoned him to sit.

“Why are you here?”

“The princess told me you were unwell recently. Yangzhou was worried and begged the princess to let me see you,” Mo Yangzhou said, his gaze quickly scanning her face as if somewhat reassured. “Seeing you well now, I can rest easier.”

Jiang Wu recalled the excuse she had used when placed under house arrest—claiming illness.

With Mo Yangzhou’s thoughtful nature and his repeated efforts to be near her, Jiang Wu already felt his care.

“By the way,” Mo Yangzhou said, as if remembering something, pulling out a jade pendant from his bosom. “Mingzhu asked me to bring this to you. She is concerned about your health and had it blessed at the temple, hoping it will bring you good fortune.”

Jiang Wu paused before taking it.

The jade, already smooth and warm from a man’s touch, felt irresistibly precious. Her slender fingers traced the floral patterns on the pendant, and a faint smile appeared on her face.

Jiang Wu’s relationship with her two children was distant; the familial joy she imagined was only found in Mingzhu.

In truth, Jiang Wu’s wish was simple—to have a husband who respected and understood her and children who cared for and warmed each other.

Motherly love was selfless, but no one could remain selfless forever. Without reciprocation, she too would feel disappointment and exhaustion.

“Mingzhu is thoughtful. Remember to thank her for me,” Jiang Wu said with a smile. But as she looked up, she unexpectedly caught Mo Yangzhou staring at the side of her neck and asked, “What is it?”

Mo Yangzhou reached out suddenly; though the gesture was abrupt, Jiang Wu, trusting him naturally, did not flinch or blink.

She watched as his hand rested on her neck.

“Your collar is crooked,” he said, then adjusted it gently.

When Jiang Wu lowered her gaze, her eyes passed over his somewhat rough hands and landed on the fading mark left by Chu Ling.

She did not know if Mo Yangzhou could see it from his angle, but after he tidied her collar, the mark was immediately concealed. In his eyes, she caught a fleeting shadow of sorrow and jealousy.

A surge of irritation rose within Jiang Wu. For a moment, she almost instinctively wanted to cover the mark, but she restrained herself, feeling as if that would make her seem guilty. But wasn’t this the nature of their relationship? Why should she feel ashamed?

A torrent of complex emotions welled up in her chest, indistinguishable yet clear in one aspect—her disgust toward Chu Ling had intensified.

“Madam,” Mo Yangzhou’s voice pulled her from those hateful thoughts.

He was smiling, free of any other emotion, and Jiang Wu no longer wished to dwell on it.

“Has Mingzhu’s engagement with that young man from the Li family been settled?” she asked. “It’s been some time since they arranged it, hasn’t it?”

Mingzhu was no longer young. Perhaps because she had traveled extensively with her father, her personality differed greatly from that of an ordinary young lady. Since settling down in the capital, she had fallen in love at first sight with Li’s fifth son during a spring outing, and their marriage had been arranged.

Yet the Li family had delayed the formal wedding.

Hearing Jiang Wu’s question, a flicker of embarrassment crossed Mo Yangzhou’s face but was quickly masked by a smile. “It’s not yet finalized. This is a significant matter; it cannot be rushed.”

Since the father himself said so, Jiang Wu naturally did not press further, silently resolving to probe Lady Li’s attitude when the opportunity arose.

They said little else, simply chatting, and Jiang Wu’s mood improved considerably.

Before parting, she did not mention the house she had purchased today.

She planned to surprise him later.

Instead, she brought up another topic. “Yangzhou, have you ever thought about changing your occupation?”

Seeing surprise in Mo Yangzhou’s eyes, Jiang Wu explained casually, “It’s not that I look down on what you do. I just want you to do what you enjoy. If you feel pressured by life, I can help.”

Mo Yangzhou looked at her—the woman striving to elevate herself above him, speaking as if bestowing charity—yet it was not hard to see she was carefully tending to his feelings, respectfully avoiding making choices on his behalf.

The man chuckled. “Madam, you are truly adorable.”

Jiang Wu’s face flushed. At her age, who wanted to be called adorable?

“You once said you felt increasingly similar to your husband, but I think you are always you,” he said softly.

Jiang Wu paid no mind; she simply felt he always knew what she wanted to hear, which lifted her spirits.

Indeed, who would ever be like that wretched man?

In the end, Mo Yangzhou declined her offer, saying he wished to continue with his current profession.

Jiang Wu did not insist. As she had said, she did not belittle opera singing; she only wanted him to have an easier path. Since he loved it, she would not force him otherwise.

Her good mood, however, dimmed considerably upon returning home and seeing Chu Yi standing there.

She heard that not only had she been punished last time, but Chu Yi had as well.

Perhaps Chu Ling thought Chu Yi was too outspoken in reminding him of his duties.

Jiang Wu had no sympathy for him; the executioner’s hands had surely shed many lives.

Looking at him this way, the punishment was not so severe—wasn’t that fine? She glanced at the wooden-faced man and went inside.

Chu Yi called after her, “Madam.”

“What is it?”

The taciturn and dutiful man took out a stack of papers from his bosom.

“These are the deeds for the houses you visited today. The master instructed me to give them to you.”