After Rebirth, I Married my Archenemy - Chapter 74

When Wang Xiang led his troops into Xuzhou, Jiangnan Road had been experiencing continuous rainfall for several days.

On his previous return to the capital, he hadn’t even had time to catch his breath before receiving new orders, prompting him to ride out urgently once more. The relentless rain left everyone complaining bitterly, forcing them to seek shelter at a small eatery for rest and food.

The eatery was nearly fully occupied by the Eastern Palace’s people, who had ordered hot food and warm wine to chase away the chill.

As Wang Xiang lifted a chopstick of fine noodles to his mouth, he noticed a familiar face through the steamy haze. The man called out to him, prompting Wang Xiang to reluctantly set down his chopsticks and return the greeting.

It was Xiao Jingyan, an official from the Dali Court. Wang Xiang had started his career alongside Xiao Jingyan in the palace during the same year, and they shared a modest friendship. However, their relationship had grown distant after Xiao Jingyan’s elder sister married Prince Yan.

Now meeting by chance, Xiao Jingyan greeted him warmly, saying, “What a coincidence to run into you here, General Wang. Why not join us for some leisure and let us entertain you properly?”

Wang Xiang declined, “I have my duties to attend to; I can’t.” He glanced at Xiao Jingyan and asked, “What is it you’re carrying there, Minister Xiao?”

Behind Xiao Jingyan were two subordinates, each holding bundles of brightly colored fabric that appeared to be silk. 

Xiao Jingyan casually replied, “These are silks I purchased from a local shop. Xuzhou is known for its fine silk, which is both high-quality and affordable. Since I’m here, I thought I’d buy some for my elder sister to take back.”

Seeing Wang Xiang’s pensive expression, Xiao Jingyan chuckled and added, “You’ve been married for only two months but have already left home. How is it that you haven’t prepared any small gifts for your esteemed wife?”

At the mention of his new bride, a faint blush crept across Wang Xiang’s stern face. He stirred his noodles awkwardly and muttered, 

“What kinds of styles do young ladies usually like?”

“Since your wife is young, she likely prefers bright and flattering colors. I think this green is especially lovely—I even bought two extra bolts specifically.” Xiao Jingyan gestured for his subordinate to present an emerald-green silk fabric to Wang Xiang. “The shop is just nearby on Jingtai Street. If you have some free time, I’d be happy to accompany you there.”

Wang Xiang appeared tempted but ultimately shook his head. 

“I’m carrying the Crown Prince’s order. I can’t afford any delays.”

Xiao Jingyan laughed and said, “That’s hardly an issue. I’ll give you one of the pieces I’ve already chosen. Just pay me a gold ingot, and I’ll go back later to buy more for my sister.”

Wang Xiang seemed reluctant to accept, but one of his soldiers, overhearing the conversation, set down his bowl and spoke up, “General, I’ve finished eating. I’d like to go to the silk shop to buy something for my family. I’ll be quick.”

“That’s right,” another soldier chimed in. “We’ve been rushing without rest these past few days and haven’t even had time to breathe. The rain’s so heavy we can’t march anyway. Surely buying a single piece of silk won’t take much time.”

Encouraged, several more soldiers set down their bowls, clamoring to visit the silk shop as well.

Faced with the grumbling of his subordinates, Wang Xiang reluctantly took out a gold ingot and handed it to Xiao Jingyan. Keeping a stern expression, he said, 

“Anyone who wants to go may go, but those who stay must eat and drink their fill. We leave in half an hour.”

A group of soldiers eagerly left the eatery. Xiao Jingyan instructed his men to place a bolt of green silk on the bench next to Wang Xiang before bidding him farewell. As he stepped into the rain, Xiao Jingyan quietly ordered, “Have the physician wait up ahead.”

Half an hour later, many of Wang Xiang’s soldiers returned holding bolts of silk, the red and green ones especially numerous. They folded the soft, thin fabrics and tucked them into their armor, their faces bright with smiles.

However, Wang Xiang’s nose and eyes had turned red. Mounting his horse, he sneezed several times in a row, appearing suddenly unwell.

Someone expressed concern, “General, are you feeling unwell?”

Wang Xiang waved his hand dismissively. “I’m fine. Move out!”

He rode a black steed, galloping through the rain. But as he rode, his pace gradually slowed.

The soldier closest to him noticed in surprise that Wang Xiang’s complexion was growing paler, and his reddened eyes and nose looked increasingly swollen. He blinked several times, but soon his face was streaked with tears and mucus.

Wang Xiang thought it was merely a case of rhinitis and tried to endure it. However, after a short while, he began gasping for air in the rain, seemingly unable to breathe.

His body swayed before he suddenly toppled off his horse.

“General!” The soldiers behind him dismounted in alarm and hurriedly helped him up. Wang Xiang had fainted, his body soaked in rainwater, as were the bright bolts of silk lying next to him.

Now leaderless, the soldiers carried him to an inn and called over a passing traveling physician.

After examining Wang Xiang’s pulse, the physician performed acupuncture and then picked up the silk, exclaiming, “I’ve warned people not to buy silk from Jingtai Street, yet you outsiders still do!”

The soldiers were shocked. “What does this have to do with the silk?”

“The emerald green dye is toxic. Using it on fabric is harmful. Just recently, I treated several children with respiratory issues caused by this dye. It’s become common knowledge among traveling physicians. This gentleman already has rhinitis, so he’s particularly sensitive. This nearly cost him his life.”

Upon hearing this, the soldiers pulled the silk from their armor in horror. Realizing the expensive fabric they had bought was toxic, they tore and shredded it in anger. Led by one soldier, the group stormed off to Jingtai Street to demand an explanation.

The shop owner, of course, was nowhere to be found. After some investigation, the soldiers learned that the shop belonged to Song Wen. Even the official of Dali Court hadn’t been able to take him away the previous night. With no other recourse, they turned to the local governor’s office.

Song Wen was seated in the main hall, exchanging pleasantries with the Governor of Xuzhou. Suddenly, there was the sound of shouting outside the door, followed by the noise of fighting. Both men were startled.

A servant hurried in to report, “It’s bad! That Young Master Yan has come back, and he brought a group of soldiers with him. There are dozens of them, and they had a disagreement with our guards and started fighting.”

The soldiers’ scolding rang in his ears. The tea cup in Song Wen’s hand trembled, and his face turned pale as he exclaimed, “”I won’t implicate my father-in-law, will I??”

The governor of Xuzhou went out to check: “Who gave you the nerve to storm the governor’s mansion?”

Unexpectedly, someone broke through the siege and pushed him back a few steps. Xiao Jingxing pretended to stop him, but failed.

The palace soldier held out the fish token and said sternly, “Open your eyes and look carefully. We are soldiers of the East Palace, serving the crown prince. Song Wen dared to sell inferior silk, nearly costing our men their lives—such audacity! And yet, as a local official, you chose to shield him. Even the Dali Court’s Official couldn’t take him away through official channels. Get up! No matter what, we’re taking him with us today.”

The governor of Xuzhou, encircled by so many people, was drenched in cold sweat.

Meanwhile, someone had already stormed into the hall and dragged out a pale-faced Song Wen. A teacup crashed to the ground in the commotion.

Wang Xiang was unconscious, unable to control his subordinates. He was unaware that most of the palace soldiers were young noble scions from Chang’an—hot-blooded and indifferent to court politics. Exhausted from traveling overnight and already fuming, their anger surged when they saw Wang Xiang collapse. Then, with just a few words from Xiao Jingxing, tensions flared, and the soldiers seized Song Wen by force.

The governor of Xuzhou scrutinized the fish token and confirmed it belonged to the crown prince’s men. Stunned for a moment, he dared not stop them. Only after they had left did he rush back into the hall, shouting urgently, “Send a letter! Send a letter to Chang’an immediately!”

At the inn, silence hung in the air.

“What exactly did you put on the silk?” Lu Huating asked.

Qun Qing replied calmly, “Just something to trigger his sinusitis. My master is an excellent physician—he knows how to prescribe medicine without causing harm. He’ll simply sleep for half a day and wake up naturally.” As she spoke, she picked up the medicine bowl and drank it down.

Because she needed bone-setting treatment, Physician Li had prescribed medicine to reduce inflammation and regulate her body. She was to drink three bowls a day for three days.

As they spoke, Physician Li brought out another bowl of medicine. Spotting Lu Huating sitting beside Qun Qing, he hesitated before asking, 

“Liu Niang, if I recall correctly… Wasn’t the man you were once engaged to also a court official?”

Before Qun Qing could respond, Lu Huating answered, 

“Unfortunately, he is dead.”

Qun Qing’s fingers stilled. Physician Li, visibly shocked, was momentarily at a loss for words. His gaze lingered on Lu Huating, but in the end, he chose not to pursue the matter further.

Turning his attention back to Qun Qing, he held out the medicine and said, 

“Liu Niang has been seriously injured and is in a weakened state. She needs to keep a calm mind, avoid anger, stay warm, avoid the cold, sleep more, and worry less. She should also eat more red dates, goji berries, and codonopsis to replenish her qi and bl00d.”

Qun Qing wanted to tell Physician Li to stop, but the bitter medicine had numbed her mouth, making it impossible to speak.

Physician Li, seeing no response, frowned and scolded, 

“Why aren’t you taking notes?”

He remembered a young man among his medical assistants—Fang Xie—who would have already taken out pen and paper by now, diligently recording his words.

“I remember it,” Lu Huating said.

Then, without missing a word, he repeated, “Liu Niang is weak. She needs to keep a calm mind, avoid anger, stay warm, avoid the cold, sleep more, and worry less. She should eat more red dates, goji berries, and codonopsis to replenish her qi and bl00d.”

His precise recitation was uncanny.

Qun Qing, setting the medicine bowl down, turned to him and said, 

“Advisor Lu, please leave. I need to rest.”

Without another word, she saw the two men out, drew the curtain, and lay down on the bed, fully clothed. True recuperation meant sleep—after bone-setting, rest was essential to prepare for what lay ahead.

Returning to his quarters, Lu Huating found that the screen had been folded, the bamboo mat put away, and the bedding on the bed neatly arranged.

Wen Su spoke carefully, “Lady Qing said she wouldn’t be staying. Since the advisor’s health is fine, she has decided to return to her own quarters. That way, the advisor won’t have trouble sleeping at night.”

Qun Qing was right. Between an unmarried man and woman, there was no justification for sharing living space.

This absurd, alcohol-fueled joke—once the wind changes, it must come to an end.

Lu Huating sat on the bed, his palm brushing over the neatly folded, smooth mattress. 

“I’ve never met a woman as ruthless and decisive as her,” he murmured.

Wen Su hesitated before speaking. “Advisor…”

His dark eyes deepened, and a fleeting smile curved his lips. 

“It doesn’t matter. I’m the same way.”

Just then, Xiao Jingxing returned, and the two spent the afternoon discussing how to bring Song Wen back to Chang’an while Wang Xiang remained unconscious, as well as how to present a memorial to the emperor.

Midway through their discussion, Zhu Su entered. 

“Lady Qing’s bone-setting is scheduled for tomorrow. I saw them making preparations.”

Lu Huating paused, then set his brush down and stood. “Wait for me.”

Qun Qing had just fastened her veil when she opened the door—only to find Lu Huating stepping inside.

He closed the window tightly and bolted the door behind him. She didn’t stop him. If he was going to such lengths, he must have something important to say. Whenever a conversation turned confidential, she instinctively ensured they wouldn’t be seen.

She simply observed his movements. 

“You know nearly everything about me, yet I’ve never asked anything about you.”

Lu Huating met her gaze. “What do you wish to ask?”

Qun Qing hesitated. “Your mother… was she the wet nurse of the Crown Prince and Prince Yan?”

Lu Huating didn’t flinch. His expression remained unreadable as he replied, 

“My mother is dead.”

“And your brother?”

“Dead as well.”

Silence stretched between them. It seemed the story Li Xuan had told—of being thrown into a wolf’s den—was true.

After a moment, Lu Huating continued, “I had a younger sister.” His dark eyes bore into hers, and before she could ask, he added, “It wasn’t Meng Baoshu.”

“She died in infancy—because of me.”

His voice was even, devoid of emotion, but Qun Qing was still taken aback. After a long pause, she asked, “Is it revenge for not being able to protect her?”

Lu Huating’s lips curved slightly, as if amused. He leaned in and whispered, 

“It’s revenge for the ones who killed my mother, my brother, and my sister.”

Each word was cold as ice. The way he could speak so lightly about such a deep hatred unsettled her. She looked at the man before her and found him utterly unreadable.

Working with him was like wielding a razor-sharp blade—his grudge ran too deep, and his determination was unwavering. If she wasn’t careful, she could find herself cut.

“Last time, when we spoke of cooperation, I forgot to ask something,” Lu Huating suddenly said.

“What is it?” Qun Qing forced herself to focus.

His gaze seemed to pierce through her veil, straight into her eyes. 

“If we can’t prove that Prince Yan wasn’t the one who killed someone at Qingjing Temple that night… what will you do?”

Qun Qing didn’t hesitate. 

“I will kill Li Huan.”

“And if I try to stop you?”

An inexplicable emotion surged within her. 

“Then we will remain enemies—locked in life and death, just as before.”

Lu Huating studied her for a moment. 

“I want to see your face.”

Before she could react, he reached out and lifted her veil.

A pair of deep, ink-dark eyes met hers. His fair skin contrasted sharply with his striking features, and in his pupils, she saw her own reflection.

It felt as if something hidden deep within her had been suddenly dragged into the light. A shiver ran down her spine.

Abruptly, she pulled the veil back down, covering herself completely.

Lu Huating smirked. 

“Lady Qing, why are you blushing?”

Qun Qing spun around abruptly, and Lu Huating instinctively caught hold of her white veil. The fabric was so light, it felt like air slipping between his fingers. He tightened his grip for a moment—then, finally, he let it go.

“Did you see clearly?” Qun Qing’s voice was steady as she adjusted the veil and turned back to face him. Her gaze, sharp as a blade slicing through clouds, bore into him coldly.

“The one who killed you in your past life wasn’t Qun Qing—it was me. Remember that well. See it clearly, and die with no regrets.”