The Young Marquis Regrets Too Late - Chapter 47

“Then go ask one of the maids. Or else, have Shuliang run an errand and buy it for you.” 

Jiang Jingchun had no idea what strange mood he was in at this time and had no interest in entertaining him. 

She snatched back the bridal veil and said, “I’m busy. Stop bothering me.”

He had barely said two sentences before she started finding him annoying.

The bridal veil in Gu Huaisheng’s hands was taken away, which left him grasping at nothing. He withdrew his hand and, seeing how Jiang Jingchun had already dismissed the topic, didn’t press further.

These days, she truly did seem busy. After all, even though she wasn’t particularly willing in her heart, living in the Jiang family residence required her to put on a convincing facade for the upcoming wedding.

Gu Huaisheng shifted topics. “The wedding invitations have been going out recently. Should one be sent to the Song family?”

He asked the question with an unaffected expression, as though they were discussing an entirely trivial matter.

However, his words struck a nerve with Jiang Jingchun. She shot him a glare, and her voice turned cold as she said, “Are you deliberately asking what you already know? Wasn’t it you who told me not to bring up Song Xuan’an again? And now you’re asking this—what’s your intent?”

What purpose would inviting Song Xuan’an serve? Did he just enjoy stirring up heartache like this?

Could he be any more shameless?

Just the mention of Song Xuan’an was enough to ignite her fury.

Seeing her flare up, Gu Huaisheng chuckled lowly. A trace of chill appeared in his tone as he replied, “Oh. If you don’t want to talk about it, then we won’t.”

The topic was dropped, and neither of them brought it up again. The evening soon came, and it was soon time for dinner. When the old madame noticed Gu Huaisheng’s presence, she invited him to join them for the meal.

After they finished their meal, out of fear that the old madame would suspect something, Jiang Jingchun got up and walked him out. However, the moment they reached the courtyard gates, she turned back without even saying a word.

Gu Huaisheng stood watching as she walked away without so much as a glance back. He said nothing and only let out a faint chuckle before leaving himself.

On his way out of the Jiang family residence, though, he crossed paths with Jiang Runchu.

It seemed Jiang Runchu had caught wind of his visit and had been waiting there deliberately. Who knew how long he’d been standing by?

The night had deepened. Jiang Runchu stood leaning against an archway, with his head bowed, but the sound of approaching footsteps made him look up in Gu Huaisheng’s direction.

Their gazes met. Gu Huaisheng’s expression remained calm, but Jiang Runchu’s was complex and difficult to decipher.

Jiang Runchu straightened his posture and stared at Gu Huaisheng, who was walking his way. After a moment, he blurted out, “Gu Huaisheng, didn’t you say you always saw her as only a cousin?”

He had heard about Gu Huaisheng and Jiang Jingchun’s betrothal from Lady Li.

That day after Jiang Jingchun returned to the Jiang family residence, Lady Li cried for ages before finally being comforted by Jiang Jinghui after much coaxing. 

That was also when Jiang Runchu learned that Gu Huaisheng and Jiang Jingchun were to be married.

But how could a cousin suddenly become a wife? 

The revelation had clearly shaken him deeply.

The more he thought back on past events, the stranger it all seemed.

Gu Huaisheng nonchalantly replied, “She’s just a cousin, and she’s not even related to me by bl00d. Why can’t she also be my wife?”

His reversal was faster than flipping a book’s page. It had been only two or three months—barely enough time to move from summer into autumn.

Jiang Runchu angrily snapped, “Don’t you find this disgusting? You’re five years older than her. When you were learning to read and write, she could barely run properly. When you were taking the imperial examinations to build your career, she was fooling around with her little gang of friends… 

“You were the one who said she was just a cousin, but you actually harbour these kinds of thoughts for her in secret. Did you trick her into agreeing somehow? She’s the type to hold grudges. After things soured between you two, how could she willingly marry you?”

He felt utterly deceived by Gu Huaisheng. He had genuinely believed the man’s insistence that ‘she was just a cousin,’ but it was all a lie.

This man changed his mind so quickly that it was impossible for Jiang Runchu to keep up.

Jiang Runchu continued, “Just wait—she’ll make your life hell. You have no idea how much trouble she can cause. Back at home, the only person who could handle her was Mother…”

Perhaps Jiang Jingchun’s sudden marriage had left him feeling unsettled in a way he couldn’t quite articulate.

He had thought she would at least return home first… but before she even did that, she was suddenly getting married.

It was an odd feeling.

Gu Huaisheng suddenly interrupted Jiang Runchu.

He said, “Do you know where they brought her back from when she became my ‘cousin’?”

Jiang Runchu frowned. He was puzzled by the abrupt question. He couldn’t fathom why Gu Huaisheng was bringing this up now.

No one had ever told him where Jiang Jingchun actually came from. His father hadn’t mentioned it, nor had his mother. 

No one told him anything about that.

Gu Huaisheng said, “She cried so bitterly at the temple that day because she learned the truth about how she came to the Jiang family. Jiang Mingfeng, do you also want to know?”

He addressed him by his courtesy name, and his tone was formal and weighty. In the dim moonlight, Gu Huaisheng’s voice carried an indefinable gravity that struck Jiang Runchu like a hammer to the chest, which made his eyebrows furrow.

“If you’ve got something to say, just say it,” he said.

Gu Huaisheng began with, ‘Her mother’s name was Cen Yin,’ and ended with, ‘Cen Yin is dead.’ He relayed the story to Jiang Runchu in a few succinct sentences.

The cool moonlight bathed the two men as Jiang Runchu remained silent for a long while after hearing the revelation.

Gu Huaisheng didn’t elaborate further. He simply added, “Watch out for Jiang Jinghui. She’s not simple. Who knows what she’s planning by coming back now.”

He didn’t believe that Jiang Nan had found her on his own. Perhaps Jiang Jinghui had been lurking all these years, waiting for the right moment to reappear.

But whether or not she was Jiang Nan’s biological daughter wasn’t in doubt. 

The birthmark didn’t lie, nor did the striking resemblance between her and Jiang Jingchun.

It was just unclear what her true intentions were.

Was she simply targeting Jiang Jingchun out of hatred? It didn’t seem like that was all.

Gu Huaisheng left Jiang Runchu with a warning. Whether he would heed it or not was out of Gu Huaisheng’s hands.

After all, Jiang Runchu and Jiang Jingchun had been distant from each other for over a decade. No amount of words would likely bridge that gap.

After saying his piece, Gu Huaisheng didn’t linger to observe Jiang Runchu’s reaction. He turned and walked away.

—

Moonlight poured over the earth. A faint osmanthus scent permeated inside the palace walls, where silence reigned.

Outside Qianqing Palace, lanterns dangled from the eaves and swayed in the night breeze. Their cool, scattered glow only added to the solemn majesty of the palace.

Inside the palace, Emperor Taihe and Wang Shun were sitting across from each other. 

There was a strategy game board between them. A game of go was ongoing.

The quiet of the hall was punctuated only by the crisp sound of the game pieces being placed on the board. The two men focused intently on the game, and neither of them spoke a word.

Wang Shun, who was now advanced in age, squinted to make out the pieces on the board. His eyesight was no longer what it used to be.

Emperor Taihe observed him closely and took every detail in.

At last, the emperor broke the silence. “Only today did I realise, Teacher, that your eyes can no longer clearly see the pieces.”

In public, the emperor referred to Wang Shun as the senior grand secretary or chief of the Grand Secretariat. However, in private, when there were no other people present, he always called him ‘Teacher,’ just as he had in the past, when Wang Shun held the post of the imperial tutor.

Emperor Taihe was not yet fifteen years old when the late emperor passed unexpectedly and he had to ascend the throne. Wang Shun, as the imperial tutor, guided him through every step of the way as he secured his place as emperor.

Emperor Taihe’s feelings towards his teacher were complicated.

At first, he was immensely grateful for Wang Shun’s companionship. Without him, facing the nobles and officials as a mere boy would have been impossible. They had looked at him like wolves eyeing a helpless cub, and they were eager to carve away his imperial authority before he had the chance to grow into it.

If not for his teacher, the imperial tutor, he would not have known what to do.

He remembered every word of advice his teacher gave him and obediently followed his every instruction. He also took his teacher’s rebukes to heart, as warnings to guide him.

But as he grew older, he began to see that his teacher was perhaps the most skilled at seizing power than he’d first imagined.

As the emperor’s close confidant, the imperial tutor, and the guardian entrusted with the young current emperor by the late emperor, Wang Shun, now senior grand secretary of the Grand Secretariat, naturally came to wield unparalleled authority.

It wasn’t until Emperor Taihe matured that he slowly realised his teacher wasn’t really the man he’d perceived and given his trust to.

When the emperor commented on his failing eyesight, Wang Shun merely chuckled and said, “Considering my age, what more can I expect? You may not know, Your Majesty, but at home, I use a magnifying glass to read. I dared not bring it here, for fear of appearing unsightly before you.”

The emperor laughed at this. Then, they continued playing.

After a brief silence, Emperor Taihe suddenly said, “I heard that the young marquis of the Gu family is getting married. Teacher, are you aware?”

Wang Shun’s expression remained unchanged as he replied, “Yes, I heard. They’re making quite the commotion. It’s only natural—most young men from ordinary families discuss marriage by the time they’re around 17. It’s past the time for the young marquis to marry, so of course, they’d celebrate grandly. Moreover, the Gu family, with their illustrious lineage, would never allow their eldest son’s wedding to be anything less than spectacular. It’s a matter of maintaining face.”

The flickering lamplight made it seem as though they were discussing the most ordinary of topics.

“Ah, around 17… When Qiongzhang passed away, he was 19 and still hadn’t married…” 

Perhaps because the topic had turned to marriage, Emperor Taihe couldn’t help but recall the past.

‘Qiongzhang’ was the courtesy name that Wang Shun had given to his son, Wang Yu.

When Wang Yu was fifteen, Wang Shun had already chosen the name for him, though it had not been publicly announced since Wang Yu had not yet come of age. Only his close acquaintances knew and sometimes used it in private.

Wang Yu—courtesy name Qiongzhang.

Jinzhaoyucui—as brilliant as gold and as pure as jade.

The depth of Wang Shun’s affection for his son was evident even in the name he gave him.

The emperor still remembered how delighted Wang Yu had been when he confided in him about his courtesy name. “Your Majesty, my father has given me a courtesy name—Qiongzhang. I saw it on his desk. You can call me that from now on.”

Qiongzhang had been a pure and kind-hearted soul. His emotions were always written plainly on his face. It was as if, as the saying went, ‘a crooked bamboo had sprouted a perfect shoot.’ Compared to his father, Qiongzhang had an endearing innocence and naivety to him.

Thinking of this bittersweet memory, the emperor let out a heavy sigh. “If only I hadn’t sent him to Jiangnan back then… Things wouldn’t have turned out this way. It’s a shame he passed so young, without ever marrying or leaving behind a child. If he had, they’d be about the same age as the princes and the princesses by now.”

Wang Yu and Emperor Taihe had been close in age. The emperor was only slightly older than Wang Yu. Since the emperor was Wang Shun’s student and Wang Yu was his only son, the two had been more like companions than a ruler and minister’s child.

They had even studied together when they were younger.

Had Wang Yu lived, he would have been nearing 40 by now.

Hearing the emperor bring up the past, Wang Shun’s hand faltered briefly. However, he quickly regained his composure. “Your Majesty bears no blame. If fault lies anywhere, it is with me, for pushing him too hard and forcing him to go to Jiangnan. Or perhaps with him, for lacking the strength to return alive. Who else can we blame?”

Wang Shun had placed great hopes on his son.

But no one was born capable. Everyone needed to grow. Qiongzhang had just died before having the chance to become the person his father envisioned him to be.

Perhaps the name Qiongzhang—so precious and heavy with expectation, was too much for him to bear.

“It’s been nearly 20 years,” Wang Shun said finally. “It’s all in the past now. He is gone, and it’s meaningless to dwell on it.”

While Wang Shun was speaking, Emperor Taihe placed his final chess piece. The game was over, and Emperor Taihe had won.

When he was younger, the emperor had rarely defeated Wang Shun at chess. But as Wang Shun aged, Emperor Taihe’s victories grew more frequent.

The game’s outcome was decided.

The two rose and moved to the tea table.

The emperor asked, “Teacher, will you attend Young Marquis Gu’s wedding banquet?”

Wang Shun chuckled. “They didn’t send me an invitation. Why impose myself where I’m not welcome?”

Emperor Taihe was a little surprised to see that the Gu family had abandoned all pretence of politeness with Wang Shun.

It seemed that the Gu family genuinely disdained Wang Shun.

Well, it made sense. The two families couldn’t be more different in their ways. Marquis Gu didn’t get along with Wang Shun, and Gu Huaisheng was just like his father in that regard.

This time, they didn’t even bother to send him an invitation.

However, Wang Shun didn’t seem to mind. He chuckled and said, “Looks like the young marquis still resents me for having brought down his teacher all those years ago.”

Emperor Taihe disagreed. He said, “How could that be? He’s not someone who would mix public and private matters. Besides, his teacher’s collusion with the enemy and treason were indisputably proven. You were simply doing your duty. Not to mention, hadn’t he already fallen out with his teacher long ago? I doubt he’d still hold a grudge over that.”

Hearing this, Wang Shun chose not to respond further.

As it was getting late, Wang Shun stood, bid his farewell, and returned home.

Once he was back at the Wang residence, a servant informed him that Song Xuanjing was waiting for him inside.

Wang Shun nodded to indicate he understood and made his way inside.

Sure enough, Song Xuanjing was seated on a chair, waiting for him.

As Wang Shun approached, he noticed the bruises—blue and purple patches scattered across Song Xuanjing’s face under the flickering candlelight. He couldn’t help but ask, “Your brother did this?”

Song Xuanjing nodded silently.

Wang Shun didn’t spare him another glance. Instead, he walked slowly to the main seat and sat down heavily. He exhaled deeply, then said, “What a pity. If we could’ve had Song Xuan’an convicted of cheating, his life would’ve been ruined. The Song family would’ve been yours for the taking… But, alas, Gu Huaisheng had to intervene.”

Now Song Xuan’an had escaped unscathed. Even if he didn’t pass the provincial-level imperial examinations, he would still prove troublesome. And now that Song Xuanjing’s true nature had been revealed to him, who knew what would happen in the future?

All in all, Song Xuan’an was now an unpredictable threat.

Song Xuanjing said, “It doesn’t matter. He is still immature. Even if he knows the truth, it won’t lead to anything. And besides, I don’t think he’ll pass the provincial-level imperial examination this time.

“But, Master, Gu Huaisheng is still investigating the treason case involving the former governor-general. From the looks of it, he intends to uncover the truth and clear his teacher’s name. Clearing the name is one thing, but what worries me is that he might want to resurrect his reforms…”

Song Xuanjing, who worked in the Ministry of War, had discovered that Gu Huaisheng had retrieved the old case files related to the governor-general’s treason. He’d also noticed that they were secretly continuing the investigation.

What exactly was Gu Huaisheng planning?

Wang Shun pondered for a moment. A malicious smile curled at his lips. “He wants to clear his teacher’s name? Fine. Let him try. On the twenty-second of this month, the day of his wedding, release some leads to lure him out. I’m curious—what will matter more to him? His bride or his teacher’s innocence?”

Wang Shun had heard that before Song Xuan’an was released, Gu Huaisheng’s little cousin, Jiang Jingchun, had sought him out.

Gu Huaisheng and Song Xuan’an had no connection whatsoever, so it was obvious that Gu Huaisheng had intervened only for Jiang Jingchun’s sake.

But if that were the case, Gu Huaisheng must have already cleaned up any evidence tied to this incident. Even if they wanted to stir things up again for him on that front, they had no proof to use. Moreover, if they meddled with the provincial-level imperial examinations, they’d only draw suspicion. Thus, they’d quietly set aside the matter.

Still, this time, Wang Shun felt they’d suffered a loss at Gu Huaisheng’s hands, so naturally, he intended to return the favour.

What intrigued him most, though, was this: If Gu Huaisheng was willing to compromise on a matter of principle for Jiang Jingchun’s sake during that incident, then when it came down to it, which would he prioritise—his wedding or the injustice that his teacher had suffered?

—

The twenty-second day of the ninth month soon arrived.

On the day of the grand wedding, the Jiang family household was bustling with activity. The entire household was running back and forth, tending to the wedding preparations. Red lanterns adorned the gates of the Minister of Personnel’s residence, and the festive atmosphere was palpable everywhere in the residence.

Although Jiang Jingchun had her share of conflicts with Jiang Nan and the others, she was still stepping out as the Jiang family’s esteemed young miss. Therefore, everyone in the Jiang household was present for the occasion, including Jiang Nan and Jiang Runchu, who both took the day off from work.

Even if only for appearances, it was important to put a good end to a good start. It wouldn’t do for them to just ignore her on the day of her marriage.

Jiang Jingchun was dragged out of bed early in the morning. Amid the noisy chatter outside, she groggily found herself being dressed in bridal attire. After her face was scrubbed clean, makeup was applied to it. Throughout the process, she was no more than a puppet on strings, who let her attendants do as they pleased. Finally, they placed an ornate, heavy headdress adorned with pearls on her head, which was so heavy that she could barely lift her neck.

The old madame feared that any sentimental talks on the day of the wedding might make Jiang Jingchun cry and ruin her makeup, so she’d already spoken with Jiang Jingchun late into the night the previous day. Today, she simply sat quietly nearby and watched her granddaughter get ready without saying anything.

Perhaps Lady Li still felt hurt by the recent incident, as she didn’t show up in Jiang Jingchun’s quarters today. Instead, she busied herself outside with Jiang Nan, arranging the welcoming ceremony for the groom’s party.

Soon, the auspicious hour arrived, and firecrackers began to go off outside. Jiang Jingchun was covered with a red bridal veil. She was helped to her feet to head out.

Beneath the veil she had embroidered herself, all she could see was her own fiery red wedding dress and the embroidered shoes on her feet. The lively clamour around her made her feel as though she were still trapped in a dream.

The wedding of the Jiang family’s daughter was a grand affair, and the entire household buzzed with joy. Laughter and congratulations filled the air, and crowds gathered to join in the excitement. The Jiang family welcomed everyone and generously handed out coins to spread the cheer.

The groom’s party had already arrived at the gates of the Jiang residence. Onlookers watched as the bride, whose head was covered by a red veil, was led out with delicate, measured steps. Though her face was obscured, her graceful figure alone spoke volumes about her beauty.

Jiang Jingchun, who was blinded by the veil, could only let herself be guided along. 

She thought she faintly heard the sound of a woman softly sobbing nearby, and then, without warning, someone scooped her up into their arms.

Jiang Jingchun was startled and let out a quiet cry. However, a familiar voice then reached her ears—it was Jiang Runchu’s voice.

“It’s me,” he said.

Ah, yes—she recalled now what an old female servant had explained the day before about the wedding customs. According to tradition, the bride must be carried to the bridal sedan by her elder brother before leaving her maiden home.

Still, she hadn’t planned on Jiang Runchu being the one to carry her. Nor had she expected him to actually show up for the task.

After all, the two of them had always been at odds. Their sibling relationship was fraught with constant bickering and even physical scuffles from when they were young. It was rare for them to even sit peacefully in the same room.

She figured he must have been forced into this.

Though she understood this tradition was unavoidable and the distance to the sedan chair was only a few short steps, her body tensed with discomfort, and she couldn’t help but mutter sarcastically under her breath. “You could’ve just used the excuse of being busy at the yamen to avoid this. It’d save us both the nausea…”

Jiang Runchu interrupted her. “Why would I avoid it? I came willingly today.”

Jiang Jingchun opened her mouth to retort but found herself already being placed gently onto the seat of the bridal sedan. Jiang Runchu spoke again, saying, “In the future, if you and Gu Huaisheng have a fight, just come home. Mother will always keep your room ready.”

His tone was still somewhat stiff, as if he was reluctant to say the words he was saying, but there was also a faint hint of his yielding in these words.

Jiang Jingchun wondered if she had misheard. Who would say something like that? Certainly not Jiang Runchu. He was the last person she’d expect such words from.

Had something gotten into him today? 

She was going to marry and leave the Jiang family. Was he perhaps thinking they’d never see each other again after this? Or was he on the verge of death?

Otherwise, why would he say such a thing?

She couldn’t make sense of it and wanted to say something, but the sedan chair was already being lifted, and Jiang Runchu had already walked away.

Perhaps even he felt awkward about his earlier words and didn’t want to linger.

The sound of drums and gongs filled the air, and they slowly came to drown out the odd moment that had just transpired.

It was a trivial matter not worth dwelling on, anyhow.

Meanwhile, Gu Huaisheng sat astride his horse, dressed in a striking red wedding robe. The vermillion round-collared garment gave him an air distinct from his usual self. He was seated upright on the horse. His golden sash accentuated his narrow waist and broad shoulders. His handsome features, as if touched by spring’s warmth, carried an effortless charm of elation.

As the young marquis of the Gu family was getting married, crowds flocked to the streets to catch a glimpse of the spectacle.

The Gu family’s wedding procession, accompanied by drums and gongs, paraded down the main avenue. People shouted blessings as they passed, while the Gu family servants at the front of the procession handed out coins from baskets.

With their pockets filled, the bystanders’ smiles widened and their congratulations sounded all the more heartfelt.

After the sedan chair arrived at the Gu residence, Jiang Jingchun stepped over a lit brazier and was led to the main hall for the ceremonial bowing. Once the rituals were complete, she was escorted to the bridal chamber.

The noisy clamour outside persisted, but after a day of drums and gongs, the bridal chamber offered Jiang Jingchun a moment of peace. The heavy pearl headdress on her head, however, felt unbearable after she’d worn it all day.

After entering the privacy of the bridal chamber, she reached up to remove her veil and relieve herself of the weighty headdress. Before she could do so, the matchmaker by her side firmly stopped her. “You mustn’t, my lady! The bridal veil can only be lifted by the groom—it’s forbidden for you to remove it yourself!”

The matchmaker had heard of Jiang Jingchun’s notorious temper long before taking on this wedding job. As expected, she was not an easy lady to manage. Who else would try to lift her own veil at a time like this?

Jiang Jingchun, however, wasn’t swayed. She said, “But my neck feels like it’s about to snap. It’s unbearable!”

The matchmaker said, “Oh, my dear ancestor, just hold on a little longer, and it will all be over soon. The young marquis is wrapping up his socialising outside and will be here in no time. I beg you, don’t make things difficult for me. If you lift your veil now, no one will ever hire me as a matchmaker again…”

Hearing her persistent pleading, Jiang Jingchun felt an even bigger headache coming on. She resigned to her fate and stopped stubbornly trying to lift her veil. Instead, she just tilted her head side to side to stretch her neck before giving up.

Seeing that she wasn’t trying to make any more trouble, the matchmaker finally breathed a sigh of relief.

Today was Gu Huaisheng’s wedding day, and his colleagues and friends finally seized the chance to tease and mess with him. Normally, he carried such an unapproachable air that no one dared get too close to him, but on this joyous occasion, Gu Huaisheng seemed a bit less aloof, which encouraged everyone to drink and laugh freely with him.

Gu Huaisheng didn’t refuse anyone. He graciously accepted and drank every glass of wine offered to him without hesitation.

As night fell and the celebrations outside reached their peak, Gu Huaisheng decided it was time to excuse himself and head towards the bridal chamber.

The night breeze carried a slight chill. It brushed against his face and sobered him up slightly. Though he rarely drank, he held his liquor well and didn’t get drunk easily, no matter how much he consumed.

Even after so many drinks, his mind was sharp, though his steps were slightly unsteady. His face, which was naturally fair, now showed a faint, unmistakable flush from the alcohol. 

Throughout the day, a gentle, faint smile played on his lips—perhaps this smile was what made him appear particularly approachable today and prompted so many to coax him into drinking.

But he didn’t mind. After all, it was his wedding day. Why should he bother keeping up his usual stoic demeanour? That would just be dull.

Just as he entered the courtyard, Shuliang came running over in a hurry.

Before Gu Huaisheng could ask, Shuliang blurted out, “Young Master, it seems one of your teacher’s former subordinates has been located.”

Gu Huaisheng’s teacher had once served as the governor-general of the northern border area. However, he had suffered a crushing defeat in a battle and was later accused of treason and cooperation with an enemy of the empire. Seemingly irrefutable evidence was presented to the emperor: letters exchanged between the teacher and the Mongols, bearing both the governor-general’s seal and that of the Mongol khan.

With such damning proof, his teacher was sentenced to execution.

But Gu Huaisheng was certain—anyone else might commit treason, but his teacher would never.

The truth of what really happened back then remained a mystery to him, even to this day. Even now, they were still trying to find anyone who’d served under the governor-general and still lived now, in the hope of finding the truth of what’d happened.

Recently, they discovered that one of his former subordinates might still be alive. 

Shuliang had been quietly handling the matter, but no matter how hard he searched, he couldn’t find any trace of the man.

That was until today, when someone had caught a fleeting glimpse of that former subordinate on a street in the northern part of the capital. But after that brief encounter, the man disappeared without a trace, and despite searching high and low, Shuliang couldn’t locate him again.

After failing to find the man, Shuliang hurried back to report to Gu Huaisheng.

Though he knew it was Gu Huaisheng’s wedding day, this was too important to delay. If they could find this former subordinate, they might finally uncover the truth about what happened back then. After carefully weighing the options, Shuliang decided to bring the matter up to Gu Huaisheng regardless.

The moonlight bathed Gu Huaisheng’s face as he pressed his lips tightly together. The cold light cast a sharpness over his features.

“What a headache,” he finally said after a long silence.

His voice was low and stifled, and tinged with irritation.

Though he could hold his liquor well, the alcohol had clearly affected his usual restraint. Words of complaint like these were ones he would never have uttered under normal circumstances.

Shuliang was startled by Gu Huaisheng’s reaction. He couldn’t understand why his master would say that.

“We’ve searched for him for so long but have failed so far. But suddenly, he appeared today of all days, and then vanished again.” Gu Huaisheng let out a sneer. “Do they think I’m a fool?”

At this, Shuliang seemed to understand what Gu Huaisheng was implying. He smacked his forehead in frustration. In his urgency upon hearing about the sighting, he hadn’t thought things through carefully enough.​​

Even after drinking so much, Gu Huaisheng was still far more clear-headed than he was.

Gu Huaisheng rubbed his temples and said, “Forget about them. Let them keep up their little act.”

This malicious yet clumsy and foolish act was honestly exhausting. Did they really think he’d fall for a clearly fake lead?

He wasn’t interested in playing along. His bride was still waiting for him in their bridal chamber.