Chapter 156

The Fengshan ceremony on Mount Tai symbolizes reporting to Heaven and removing worldly matters, a ritual of worshipping Heaven and Earth to declare the divine authority of kingship. However, not all emperors can perform the Fengshan ceremony on Mount Tai.

Last year, during our campaign against the Liang army, although we initially suffered a few defeats, Gu Chengye and Gu Ci, father and son, turned the tide of battle, driving the Liang forces out of the northern border and pushing them to Yinshan, thereby elevating the prestige of the Great Jing Dynasty.

As a result, Emperor Jing aspired to perform the Fengshan ceremony on Mount Tai.

The Ministry of Rites began planning at the start of the year and had already prepared everything, waiting for the Emperor to depart. However, Emperor Jing suddenly suffered from a severe headache that left him in excruciating pain, unable to sleep day or night, and thus unable to travel.

Consort Shu then suggested, “If Your Majesty finds it difficult to undertake the journey, perhaps the Crown Prince could go on your behalf to perform the rites and report to Heaven and Earth.”

Over the past year, Crown Prince Xiao Heng had acted with stability and orderliness, handling administrative affairs with great competence. Emperor Jing observed this and grew increasingly satisfied. Upon hearing the suggestion, he closed his eyes for a moment before agreeing.

“Let the Crown Prince proceed to Mount Tai to perform the rites.”

This decision caused a considerable stir in the imperial court.

Since ancient times, the Fengshan ceremony on Mount Tai was a privilege reserved solely for emperors. The Crown Prince’s ability to undertake this task was a clear testament to the Emperor’s deep trust in him and the people’s loyalty. However, this decision was a heavy blow for the faction supporting King Jing.

Pei Jian has been especially busy lately.

Crown Prince Xiao Heng had repeatedly ordered him to transfer from the Censorate to the Secretariat, which dealt with policy decisions. Each time, Pei Jian had politely declined.

The Crown Prince increasingly relied on him, making Pei Jian’s career more successful than in his previous life but also far more dangerous.

Pei Jian dared not relax even for a moment, knowing that enemies lurking in the shadows could strike a fatal blow at any time. He was more eager and desperate than ever, driven by the need to succeed as quickly as possible.

He was afraid.

Deeply afraid.

Having offended King Jing to the point of no return, there was no longer any need to hold back.

King Jing had manipulated the salt licenses of Lianghuai regions for personal gain, embezzling large sums of money that were originally intended for forging armor and weapons. Such grave crimes, once exposed, would threaten imperial power itself. Not even Lu Wensheng’s remarkable abilities could fully cover up such a scandal. This matter was of great significance and shrouded in secrecy. If it hadn’t been for the revelations and confrontations in his previous life, no one would have been able to detect it.

Pei Jian subtly hinted at this issue to the Crown Prince, who immediately allocated more personnel, urging him to uncover the truth as quickly as possible.

Qin Lang frequently worried that Pei Jian might one day commit some earth-shattering, soul-stirring act and thus closely watched his every move. However, Pei Jian behaved impeccably, leaving no flaws in his actions.

Even so, Qin Lang noticed something peculiar.

Pei Jian was working far too hard.

At every moment, he was busy—whenever Qin Lang went looking for him, Pei Jian was either buried in his writing or engrossed in discussions. Anyone who saw him couldn’t help but marvel, wondering aloud, “Is the work at the Censorate really this demanding?”

No wonder officials avoided Pei Jian like the plague—he was more terrifying than a soul-reaping Yama at work.

Wen Qingheng, however, wasn’t fazed. He even deliberately sidled up to Pei Jian and teased, “There are quite a few ladies in the capital who admire you. Even our Ministry of Works’ Left Assistant Minister was asking about your marriage prospects the other day. You’re not getting any younger; it’s about time you settled down, isn’t it?”

Pei Jian glanced at him and calmly replied, “Sure, Brother-in-Law.”

Wen Qingheng: …?

As it turns out, men often have no limits—or shame.

Wen Qingheng, about to unleash a torrent of words, was silenced by one icy look from Pei Jian. “Take care of yourself first.”

After he left, Qin Lang finally dared to speak. “Have you noticed that his presence has become increasingly intimidating lately?”

Wen Qingheng could relate. And in his heart, he silently added: That depends on who he’s dealing with. In front of my sister, isn’t he still as meek as a kitten?

“Fated entanglement, what a fated entanglement,” Wen Qingheng muttered.

Qin Lang then asked, “Does our sister really not have any feelings for Shizhang?”

Others didn’t know, but Qin Lang had witnessed Pei Jian’s descent into madness firsthand. From their first meeting at the Gu residence’s pavilion, Pei Jian acted abnormally, staring at their sister non-stop. Bear in mind that their sister was Gu Ci’s love interest at the time!

And things only escalated from there. Drinking excessively, falling ill, getting injured, and breaking off relationships with his brothers.

In short, there was nothing he wouldn’t do.

Pei Jian’s madness was a cold, calculated kind of madness—a lucid descent into a genuinely terrifying obsession.

Qin Lang, being a man himself, couldn’t understand how Pei Jian had developed such deeply rooted feelings—why it had to be Wen Nianxi and no one else. Could it really be as that clichéd saying goes—Love starts without reason and grows beyond limits?

“If our sister doesn’t choose him, he’ll probably be lonely for the rest of his life,” Qin Lang remarked.

Wen Qingheng cast him a sidelong glance and, mimicking Pei Jian’s earlier tone, replied indifferently, “Take care of yourself first.”

He couldn’t care less who ended up lonely, as long as it wasn’t his sister.

…

Lu Wensheng would occasionally visit Fusheng Bnazhan to purchase tea and pastries to take away. He always came in person. If Nianxi were present, leaving him to be served by the maids wouldn’t have felt appropriate. And most of the time, when he came, Nianxi happened to be there.

Lu Wensheng was a man of great propriety. He maintained the perfect rhythm in their interactions, chatting casually with Nianxi while waiting for his tea and pastries, never making anyone feel uncomfortable. There was a unique charm that only a mature man possessed.

“Two days from now is Xiaoqi’s birthday. If you’re free, why not join him for a meal?” he suggested.

Nianxi was puzzled. “I saw him yesterday, but he didn’t mention anything.”

He responded with a hum and then smiled. “I must have spoken out of turn.”

Nianxi immediately understood.

Lu Huai was a sensitive child. Although he often threw tantrums, insisting that Nianxi like his father, it was ultimately just a child’s wish. When his birthday came, Lu Huai knew that as long as he mentioned it, Nianxi would surely set aside her concerns and attend. Precisely because of this, he refrained from saying anything. He was kind and didn’t want to put Nianxi in a difficult position because of him.

Nianxi hesitated. In the past, constrained by rumors or other concerns, she would have certainly declined. After her rebirth, she no longer wanted to feel constrained. She chose to express her preferences freely and not concern herself with others’ opinions. She liked Lu Huai and felt a connection with him. So why not fulfill his birthday wish?

Nianxi said, “Of course I’ll attend Xiaoqi’s birthday. But as for his other wish, I’m afraid I can’t fulfill it.”

And what other wish might Lu Huai have?

Naturally, it was for Nianxi to become his stepmother.

Lu Wensheng understood the implication and acknowledged with a faint hum, his expression remaining calm and composed.

At that moment, the maid brought over the tea and pastries. Nianxi handed the food container to him, and Lu Wensheng took it. The jade thumb ring on his knuckle accentuated the fairness and elegance of his long, slender fingers. Just like his presence, merely standing there, he exuded an air of solemn grace and upright demeanor.

After Lu Wensheng left, Nianxi returned to the shop. As soon as she entered, she saw Cousin Mu stepping away from the window. It was clear she had been watching outside the entire time.

Upon being caught, Cousin Mu showed no sign of restraint. Instead, she grabbed Nianxi’s sleeve and bombarded her with questions: “What did Duke Fu say to you just now? I mean, such a high-ranking official, and yet he’s so patient, always spending time here at the shop. Do you like him? When are you two getting engaged?”

After asking her questions, she added on her own, “It’s hard not to like someone like him, right?”

Nianxi, overwhelmed by the barrage of questions, smiled wryly and said, “I think he’s just alright.”

“Alright?!”

“What do you mean by ‘alright’? So you don’t like him?!”

Wang Muyi became a little agitated. “Well, it’s true, Duke Fu is a bit older. But, Nian’er, older men know how to be more caring!”

Wang Muyi had only learned about the situation at the Empress Jing’s banquet after the fact. In private, she had cursed the Empress and King Jing eight hundred times but praised Lu Wensheng eight hundred and one times. The way he stood up to protect Nianxi in such a situation was genuinely moving.

“Don’t be fooled by his dignified and gentlemanly appearance—he’s like an old house catching fire when it comes to you, burning with intensity.”

“Men who seem reserved on the outside are often the wildest on the inside~”

Nianxi, who had been sipping tea, couldn’t hold back and almost spat it out upon hearing the last sentence. “Where do you even get these ideas from?” she asked, bemused.

Wang Muyi rolled her eyes dramatically and replied with feigned seriousness, “Life experience.”

“Come on, tell me—if you don’t like him, then who do you like?”

Meanwhile, Lu Wensheng sat in the carriage, heading off to deal with a myriad of official matters. Yet he chose to visit the Western Market, standing outside Fusheng Banzhan’s door to purchase a drink. He couldn’t quite explain why.

Lu Wensheng had never felt such impulsive emotions for anyone. Not even for Xiaoqi’s mother.

Back then, he had just reached adulthood. Due to family interests, he married Xiaoqi’s mother, but there was no emotional connection. He fulfilled his duties as a husband and treated his wife with utmost respect.

It wasn’t until Xiaoqi’s mother passed away in his arms, tearfully expressing her love, that he vaguely realized he had neglected and disregarded a woman’s genuine feelings. At that time, there were always more important matters demanding his attention. Now, the situation was particularly delicate. He had secured his position as the head of the Lu family, and everything in the imperial court was progressing smoothly.

Lu Wensheng did not support King Jing’s fight for the throne. It wasn’t due to pessimism but rather because King Jing had ambition without sufficient strength.

As the head of the Lu family, Lu Wensheng had an entire clan to consider. He couldn’t allow King Jing’s whims to drag the Lu family off course and into ruin.

The more secure the Crown Prince’s position, the more stable the Lu family would be in turn. He had already arranged a path of retreat for the Empress and her son.

Nianxi’s appearance was perfectly timed. She was such a lively and vibrant girl—every time she wanted to refuse him but felt embarrassed to do so, her long, thick lashes would flutter, exuding a fragile kind of beauty.

Being so much older than her, he felt compelled to show more patience and understanding. In his youth, he had always been result-oriented. Now, Lu Wensheng realized that enjoying the process was another kind of experience.