“Even if the Heir were standing here right now, I’d still give Zhuoyao to you.” After a pause, Ning Fu added this line. She was earnestly considering Lu Xingzhi as a potential husband, so naturally she wanted to treat him differently. Moreover, this gesture was meant to dispel any misunderstanding—she didn’t want Lu Xingzhi to think she had feelings for Zong Si.

Lu Xingzhi’s lips curled upward slightly.

Inside the study, Zong Si took a quiet sip of tea, his expression unreadable.

“Is it only because I taught you archery?” Lu Xingzhi looked directly at her. Though his demeanor was composed, he clearly knew the answer—and deliberately asked anyway.

Ning Fu recalled what Northern Qi Princess had once said: Lu Xingzhi was the type who appeared restrained, but was known to be assertive in bed. Put simply, the kind who masked his boldness beneath a quiet exterior.

Her ears flushed red, but keeping their decorum in mind, she replied, “Of course—it’s because you taught me riding and archery.”

Lu Xingzhi gave a small smile, clearly unconvinced. And the more he smiled, the more flustered Ning Fu became. For a moment, her hidden affections felt exposed—embarrassment welling up like any young lady caught in a moment of vulnerability.

Flirtation between a noblewoman and a gentleman could easily rattle the heart. But Ning Fu wasn’t some innocent girl—he hadn’t charmed the soul out of her just yet.

“I’m sure you’re busy, Young Master Lu. I’ll take my leave now,” Ning Fu said.

“Give me the time it takes to finish a cup of tea—please wait for me in the front courtyard. Once I’m done, I’ll come join you,” Lu Xingzhi replied.

Hearing him ask her to stay, Ning Fu nodded, slightly shy. “Then I’ll wait.”

She headed to the front courtyard, arm-in-arm with her sister Ning He.

—

Lu Xingzhi returned to the study, resuming his conversation with Zong Si about Grand Secretary Song’s corruption case—both men, aware of the subtle provocation moments earlier, refrained from mentioning it aloud.

“The bribe money is all stored at Song’s ancestral home in Langya,” Lu said. “Buried three feet beneath the main residence. But his father’s tomb is guarded heavily—I suspect there’s something fishy there too.”

Zong Si glanced at him. “Why not gather the evidence now?”

Lu Xingzhi responded, “Because at this stage, you have no intention of moving on it.”

Zong Si raised an eyebrow.

“First, Censor Xie’s memorial impeaching Minister Song has only just been submitted—if you immediately produce evidence, it could seem as though you two were secretly colluding. Second, your true target isn’t Minister Song, so naturally you must give the ‘fish’ some time to bite the hook.”

Sending Lu Xingzhi to investigate was clearly a way to test his ability.

Zong Si didn’t refute his reasoning—but he didn’t elaborate either.

That’s the difference between those in power and those beneath them. Subordinates must speak freely, yet seldom hear the full story from their superiors. Still, having a superior who recognizes and nurtures talent is a rare fortune.

“You have an appointment. That’s enough for today,” Zong Si said, brushing off his robes and rising.

Just then, Lu Xingzhi asked, “Now that Fourth Miss has given Zhuoyao to me… do you truly feel no resentment?”

Zong Si looked at the bow resting on the desk. It was exactly as he’d seen it in his dream. Its beauty had undeniably stirred something—but he wouldn’t confuse dreams with reality.

“Zhuoyao belongs to Fourth Miss Ning,” Zong Si said calmly. “She chose to gift it to you—why would I feel slighted?”

“I hope you will continue to feel that way,” Lu Xingzhi replied evenly.

After several veiled prods at Zong Si’s attitude toward Ning Fu, it wasn’t surprising that patience wore thin.

Zong Si’s eyes chilled slightly. He tugged at the corner of his mouth without replying and turned away.

—

In the front courtyard, Ning Fu crouched beside Madam Lu, helping transplant flower seedlings. Watching her prune stems and break up soil with practiced ease, Madam Lu looked her over several times. “Fourth Miss seems to know a thing or two about gardening.”

“I used to do it just to pass the time. But I found it soothing, so I came to love it,” Ning Fu said. She had always poured energy into the things she liked.

Madam Lu chuckled. “I thought only middle-aged women like me found joy in gardening—never expected a young noble miss to think so too.”

Ning Fu was, in fact, no stranger to married life, but she couldn’t say that aloud. She simply smiled sweetly. “Seems you and I are kindred spirits, Madam.”

She was clearly trying to build rapport—for Lu Xingzhi’s sake, Ning Fu didn’t mind getting close to his mother.

“When these butterfly orchids bloom, you must take a couple of pots home,” Madam Lu said warmly, finding herself more and more fond of Ning Fu.

Ning Fu was delighted.

Madam Lu continued, “Xingzhi lost his birth mother young. He may seem cold, but he’s far from heartless. If he ever comes across as inconsiderate, I hope you’ll be patient.”

She cared deeply for Lu Xingzhi, but she wasn’t his mother—there were limits.

“You needn’t worry, Madam. I know Young Master Lu is a good person,” Ning Fu said.

“I used to worry he’d struggle to adapt after returning to the capital. I wanted him to stay in Yongzhou. But seeing how kindly you treat him, I feel at ease.” Clearly, most people were as warm as Fourth Miss Ning.

Ning Fu asked curiously, “So what brought him back?”

Madam Lu smiled. “He’s of age to marry. I wanted to help him find a good match—though I wonder who’d look kindly on our Xingzhi.”

Ning Fu’s cheeks flushed—she was precisely the one who had her eye on him. She was about to ask more when she noticed Lu Xingzhi had appeared behind Madam Lu. He’d likely overheard their conversation, yet his expression gave nothing away.

“Young Master Lu,” Ning Fu greeted respectfully.

Lu Xingzhi handed her a parcel. “While handling affairs in Langya, I found some fine red sandalwood. Please take it home and enjoy.”

He’d asked her to stay so that he could deliver this gift.

On the carriage ride home, Ning Fu opened the parcel. Inside were several blocks of wood, and a delicately carved figurine of a girl drawing a bow—small, exquisite, and lifelike.

“This little archer—isn’t she you, Fourth Sister?” Ning He leaned over for a better look.

The expression, the clothing—there was no mistaking it. It was Ning Fu. And the only person capable of carving her archery pose so precisely could only be Lu Xingzhi.

Ning Fu gently traced the figurine with her fingers. Such intricate craftsmanship, even for something so small, must have taken considerable effort. He had to be constantly thinking of her to capture her likeness so perfectly. If his thoughts were full of her, then surely there was no room for anyone else.

A sweetness bloomed in her heart.

“Young Master Lu’s carving is truly impressive,” Ning He remarked. “And he’s rather handsome, too.”

But then Ning He recalled her earlier visit to the Lu residence. While resting in the courtyard, she’d caught sight of the Heir of Prince Xuan preparing to leave—a figure like moonlight incarnate, refined and aloof, standing out like a crane among chickens. She’d been so entranced she’d stared far too long. When Zong Si glanced her way, her heart pounded like a drum. Pity her low status—he likely didn’t know who she was and certainly wouldn’t spare her a second thought.

Biting her lip, Ning He silently wished she were born a legitimate daughter. Then she might not be so easily overlooked. But glancing at Ning Fu, she softened. Even as a legitimate daughter, she’d failed to earn the prince’s gaze. Being of lesser birth didn’t mean one ought to belittle oneself.

Ning Fu carefully wrapped the wooden figure in a handkerchief and warned, “Fifth Sister, Young Master Lu gave me these rosewood pieces just because he saw I was fond of them. If outsiders find out, gossip could spread. Please don’t mention it.”

Ning He nodded—she and Ning Fu were in the same boat. She’d keep this secret for her sister’s sake.

—

The Plum Month marked Zong Ning’s birthday. As in years past, the Ning household received the invitation.

Since Princess Consort Xuan had rejected Ning Fu before, Old Madam Ning held little affection for Prince Xuan’s household and prepared only token gifts. Thankfully, it was a younger person’s birthday, so she didn’t need to attend in person—avoiding any awkwardness.

But Ning Fu couldn’t skip it. She and Zong Ning were the same age and had once been classmates. Her absence would raise eyebrows.

In private, Madam Ning told her, “It was your grandmother who initiated talks of marriage with Prince Xuan’s household. Just pretend you don’t know anything about it.”

Ning Fu understood, yet still felt uneasy when she arrived.

Though the proposal came from her grandmother, the one Prince Xuan’s household declined to marry was Ning Fu herself. And being rejected inevitably placed her at a disadvantage.

The last person she wanted to see was Zong Si—but fate had other plans. Just as she alighted from the carriage, she ran right into him returning home.