Chapter 8 – One Ride

Even through the fabric of his sleeve, he could feel the warmth of her fingertips.

He Zhiyu lowered his gaze to the slender, fair fingers of Li Wu wrapped around his wrist, then lifted his eyes to her beautiful profile.

Her words of protection still echoed in his ears, and his heart, once restless, gradually calmed.

The clenched jaw he had held in front of Marquis Xuanping loosened without him realizing it, and the severity in his expression softened somewhat.

Within just a few breaths, the two had gone from the study to the corridor outside.

Li Wu stopped beneath the corridor. Before He Zhiyu could speak, she released his wrist and turned to face him.

“Lord He, are you free?”

A radiant smile blossomed on her face, her tone light as she invited, “Shall we go riding?”

Though she asked, she didn’t wait for his answer.

Li Wu walked straight out of the corridor. After taking several steps, she turned her head back to glance at He Zhiyu, her eyes signaling for him to follow.

He Zhiyu’s gaze swept briefly across his wrist.

He said nothing, but silently lifted his feet and followed, keeping a steady pace behind her.

Neither spoke until they reached the main gates of Marquis Xuanping’s residence.

There, Li Wu stopped, and so did He Zhiyu. She turned her head and smiled, asking, “Lord He, aren’t you going to have a horse prepared? Don’t tell me you mean for us to share one mount?” With a teasing note in her voice, she added, “I wouldn’t mind, but I’d worry it might harm your reputation.”

Marquis Xuanping’s words had reminded He Zhiyu of his late mother. His thoughts wandered, and only belatedly did he realize Li Wu had suggested riding.

Just as he was about to order a horse to be prepared, his vision suddenly dimmed.

Li Wu had placed a veiled hat on his head. The light gauze fell, obscuring his sight.

Startled, he looked up again and saw Li Wu standing before him, adjusting the hat for him.

“This way, it won’t matter,” she said with a smile that carried into her voice.

Through the gauzy veil, He Zhiyu saw her as nothing but a hazy outline—near yet far, blurred and indistinct.

“Let’s go.”

Having finished adjusting the hat, Li Wu withdrew her hand, turned, and walked toward the chestnut-red horse waiting outside the gates, held by the He family’s servants.

But the one suddenly shrouded in darkness became Li Wu herself.

The hat she had placed on He Zhiyu’s head now covered her own.

Yet unlike her, He Zhiyu hadn’t carefully adjusted it for her.

At the very moment she realized this, He Zhiyu, who had been behind her, strode past her in long steps and was the first to walk out through Marquis Xuanping’s gates.

She had come to the marquis’ residence to find He Zhiyu precisely because of the rumors swirling furiously these past days. Since she intended to stir muddy waters, she had to play her role thoroughly.

If the rumors had spread into the palace, naturally they had reached the He household as well.

Now that He Zhiyu was heir to the Marquis of Xuanping, his matters—and his reputation—were tied to the entire household. The Marquis could not simply ignore them.

And especially since a few days ago she and He Zhiyu had parted unhappily, the timing of her visit, on his day of rest, was perfect in her eyes.

Li Wu understood Marquis He, and she understood He Zhiyu even better.

He Zhiyu had once told her of his past.

With the Marquis having abandoned He Zhiyu and his mother, He Zhiyu’s acceptance of his father now had nothing to do with craving the glory of the marquis’ household or the title of heir.

Why, then, should he meekly submit to Marquis He?

That the two father and son had clashed was no surprise. What was surprising was that she had happened to arrive just as Marquis He played the role of stern father, scolding him.

That, she could only chalk up to luck.

And she had heard every word exchanged between them in the study.

But wasn’t it laughable?

He Zhiyu had been raised by his mother alone. She had exhausted herself earning money to fund his studies, worn herself out, and died before she could see him succeed. The Marquis had contributed nothing, yet gained a son whose success could glorify the family name—and still had the gall to claim the title of father.

There was no doubt. Between Marquis Xuanping and He Zhiyu, she would always stand on He Zhiyu’s side.

Even before she entered the study, she had been certain He Zhiyu would leave with her.

And indeed—

Through the veil, Li Wu glanced at He Zhiyu, already seated upright on his horse, turning his head to look at her. The corners of her lips curved with amusement.

She fixed her veil in place as she walked toward him.

…

Li Wu and He Zhiyu shared one mount, riding together down the main street.

The veil concealed Li Wu’s face, while she sat before He Zhiyu in a flowing red gown. Because of the veil between them, there was some distance; even with He Zhiyu’s arms loosely around her as he held the reins, they did not sit too close.

Still, He Zhiyu’s handsome looks drew attention wherever he went.

On any ordinary day, if he rode down the street, countless young women would steal glances at him.

How much more so today, with another rider in front of him?

The figure in red, with a slender waist, delicate hands resting lightly on the reins, fingertips painted with bright red polish—though her face was hidden, it was plain enough she was a woman.

“Isn’t that Lord He?”

On the second floor of a teahouse overlooking the street, Lü Xueying frowned at her friend’s words and turned to look down.

With just one glance, she spotted He Zhiyu.

He wore a blue robe embroidered with faint cloud-and-crane patterns, his usual understated elegance intact. But the striking figure in red riding with him was impossible to ignore.

Lü Xueying’s frown deepened.

Her gaze followed him down the street, while her friend exclaimed, “He’s with a woman? How rare.”

“What’s so rare?” scoffed He Yueqing, seated with them, glancing at the street with a cold smile. “My good elder brother is really becoming something else.”

He Yueqing was He Zhiyu’s half-sister, born of the Marquis’ legal wife.

As the legitimate young lady of the marquis’ household, her life had always been smooth. Her parents had a harmonious relationship, and she had a beloved brother, once expected to be the heir.

But all that changed when the illegitimate He Zhiyu appeared.

Her mother was constantly pained and aggrieved. Her brother lost the chance to inherit. And her father lavished unusual favor upon He Zhiyu.

Why? On what grounds?

He Yueqing despised this so-called elder brother. And as if that weren’t enough, he had now entangled himself with Princess Pingyang, bringing yet more trouble.

Everyone at the table knew of her dislike.

Even though He Zhiyu was the top scholar, a man of exceptional bearing, He Yueqing had nothing but disdain for him.

Sensing the mood, the other young women fell silent.

Realizing her words had soured the atmosphere, He Yueqing forced a smile, then looked out the carved window again.

Her voice softened.

“I don’t know who that woman is. My elder brother is usually so upright—he doesn’t even keep maidservants at his side. Surely there’s some special reason for them to be riding together like that.”

She glanced at Lü Xueying as she spoke.

Though she was the marquis’ daughter, Lü Xueying’s grandfather was Grand Chancellor Lü Hong. In terms of power, the Lü family far outstripped the He family.

Her earlier words had been rash. If she offended Lü Xueying, it would dampen the mood.

But Lü Xueying paid her no attention, still gazing out the window, as though indifferent to their chatter.

Another young woman, emboldened by He Yueqing’s softened tone, lowered her voice and asked, “Yueqing, have you heard the rumors going around lately? Is it really true—what they say about Lord He and the Princess of Pingyang? That he wants to take revenge on her?”

“And who is that woman? Could he be using her to deflect the gossip?”

“And also…”

She was about to ask about the Princess’ child when she noticed He Yueqing’s face had turned black. She swallowed her words quickly.

The atmosphere in the private room grew awkward.

At that moment, Lü Xueying, who had been silent, suddenly stood and walked out.

The others were startled.

Before they could ask where she was going, her figure had vanished at the door, leaving them exchanging puzzled glances.

Only He Yueqing silently turned her face back to the street.

In just a moment, Lü Xueying’s figure reappeared—this time outside.

He Zhiyu and the red-clad woman had dismounted and were stopped at a street vendor’s stall.

…

It was a bustling market day.

The street was crowded, forcing them to slow their horse.

The slower pace drew even more attention.

Li Wu, hidden beneath her veil, sat easily before him on the horse, entirely at ease.

Her intention was obvious: parading together on horseback for all to see was her way of stirring the waters.

Yet she hadn’t forced him. He Zhiyu had agreed of his own will, and that was why they now rode together.

Passersby, especially young women, stole glances as they passed.

Many, no doubt, would spend sleepless nights thinking of the sight.

After some distance, Li Wu spotted a woman selling candied hawthorn skewers by the roadside. Beside the vendor was a little girl of about four or five, hair in twin buns, wearing plain clothes. She clutched a rattle in one hand, the hem of her mother’s skirt in the other, giggling whenever her mother teased her.

“Lord He, I’ve helped you today. How do you plan to thank me?”

Li Wu spoke lightly, watching the mother and daughter while asking him.

Behind her, He Zhiyu lowered his gaze. Through the veil, all he could see was the hazy outline of her hat.

The corner of his mouth twitched faintly, but he gave no reply.

“I want candied hawthorn.”

She went on, “Those skewers look quite good.”

He Zhiyu lifted his eyes, but before he could speak, Li Wu had already leapt gracefully from the horse.

By the time he realized, she was on the ground, steady on her feet.

Adjusting her veil, she looked up at him briefly, then beckoned him with a wave before walking to the stall.

He Zhiyu dismounted as well, leading the horse after her.

Li Wu carefully selected skewers one by one, picking not just one but ten, and had the vendor wrap them in oiled paper.

“Money.”

Knowing he was behind her, she turned and extended her hand.

He Zhiyu glanced at her palm, then drew a piece of silver from his sleeve and placed it there.

Pleased with his readiness, Li Wu’s lips curved faintly beneath the veil.

Just as she was about to praise him, her peripheral vision caught sight of a figure. She looked up and saw Lü Xueying approaching.

Another old acquaintance.

Li Wu raised an eyebrow, old memories surfacing.

“Young lady, your candied hawthorns are ready,” said the vendor.

Taking the skewers with one hand, she handed over the silver with the other.

Behind her, Lü Xueying’s voice rang out: “Lord He, what a coincidence.”

And then: “And this young lady is…?”

Holding the large bundle of candied hawthorns, Li Wu’s smile only deepened under the veil.

Turning again, she shoved the wrapped skewers into He Zhiyu’s arms, then slipped her hand into his arm, clinging sweetly as she cooed in a delicate voice:

“Zhiyu-gege, I want to eat lotus pastries from Xiangsi Tower, may I?”