Chapter 77
Driftwood

In the evening, it began to rain in the capital. The misty drizzle and gentle breeze made Song Wan feel drowsy as she lay half-awake in her room, inhaling the fresh scent of grass from outside. Occasionally, a wave of dampness hit her nose, and the coolness only added to her restlessness.

“Miss, the new bedding and your undergarments are ready…” Heng Zhi stood by the bed, holding a stack of red clothes, and softly called out to Song Wan.

Song Wan turned to look at the red undergarments embroidered with twin lotuses and lowered her eyes without speaking.

Both master and servant remained silent. Ling Yun and Xie Yi entered, one carrying a lacquered tray and the other holding a stack of men’s clothes.

“Heng Zhi, these are the Marquis’s things.”

Ling Yun smiled sweetly, placed Jiang Xingjian’s clothes down, and instructed the servants to prepare hot water before leaving. Heng Zhi pursed her lips and looked at Heng Wu, and both lowered their heads.

Only Nanny Zhao knelt in the southwest corner, hands clasped, muttering prayers of thanks to the gods.

Her young mistress was finally going to consummate her marriage with the Marquis. If she could give birth to the legitimate heir of the Marquis Mansion, she would have a secure future. Even if the Marquis took three or five more concubines, she would have nothing to fear.

“Miss, the Marquis has entered the courtyard.”

Song Wan’s body stiffened, and she instinctively grabbed her skirt. “Is there any movement from Xiu Yan Pavilion?”

Heng Zhi shook her head, and Song Wan pressed her lips together, looking dazed. After a long while, she slowly got up and walked to the bathhouse.

The bathhouse was filled with steam, and the scent of orchids in the bathwater made Song Wan even more agitated. She couldn’t help but walk behind the embroidered screen and open the window.

The damp air outside made her nose and eyes sting.

The rain grew heavier, and Song Wan sat on the embroidered couch, waiting in a daze.

When Jiang Xingjian entered the room, only Nanny Zhao had a slight smile on her face, while Heng Zhi and the others looked wooden, making him suppress his inexplicable excitement.

“Where is Young Madam?”

“Miss is in the bathhouse.”

Jiang Xingjian’s face reddened, and he turned to sit on Song Wan’s bed.

The bed had several soft pillows, and the faint fragrance of petals filled the air.

He tugged at the newly changed mandarin duck quilt, his jaw tense, feeling a sudden, inexplicable nervousness.

“No need to serve. You may leave.” Jiang Xingjian spoke in a low voice, and the maids slowly retreated. Nanny Zhao, seeing Heng Wu hesitate, pulled her out.

The room was suddenly empty, and the silence was unsettling.

There was no sound from the bathhouse, and, knowing her reluctance, Jiang Xingjian did not urge her, standing quietly outside the door.

Seeing his shadow on the door, Song Wan’s eyes reddened.

She and Jiang Xingjian had been betrothed since childhood, and everything she had learned and done for twelve years was to prepare her to be a wife of the Jiang family. Before she even started her education, she knew Jiang Xingjian was her husband. As a child, she believed her future husband was a perfect gentleman, unparalleled in the world.

So she willingly remained a widow for six years with only a white jade plum blossom hairpin he had carved for her.

But now…

The shadow outside the door remained still, and Song Wan bit her lip, not getting up.

They silently confronted each other until the rain outside grew heavier, the noise of the rain adding to the tension. Jiang Xingjian finally lost some patience and gently knocked on the door.

“Wan’er?”

Song Wan pressed her lips tightly, not making a sound.

Jiang Xingjian, slightly anxious, said, “Are you alright? If you don’t respond, I’ll come in.”

As he stepped forward to push the door open, Heng Wu shouted from outside, “Marquis, Marquis, Concubine Lin is looking for you!”

Hearing this, Song Wan quickly stood up from the embroidered couch, hastily wiped her face, and said, “I’m fine. You can go attend to her first.”

Her tone was urging, causing Jiang Xingjian to pause for a moment.

“Marquis, Concubine Lin is looking for you…”

“Take her back to her room.” Jiang Xingjian felt a tightness in his temples. Just hearing Lin Jiayue’s name now made him feel an indescribable discomfort. Many times, he wondered if giving up Song Wan for that firearm was worth it.

Heng Wu wanted to say something more, but Jiang Xingjian’s fierce gaze made her swallow her words.

“Open the door.” Jiang Xingjian lost his patience and reached to pull the bathhouse door.

But as soon as he opened it a crack, he heard a thud from inside, and the door was shut again.

“Song Wan.” Jiang Xingjian’s tone was low. Remembering how she had refused Grandmother’s dying wish, he grew even more annoyed. He applied more force and pushed the door open.

Song Wan, leaning against the door, was pushed back two steps. She was still wearing her regular clothes, with her hair ornaments intact. Jiang Xingjian lowered his eyes, hiding his emotions.

She truly didn’t want to be close to him…

“Jiang Xingjian.”

Just as Song Wan was unsure how to respond, Heng Zhi entered, supporting Lin Jiayue.

The rain outside was heavy, and Lin Jiayue was soaked, standing timidly behind them.

The deaths of Jiang Jing and Madam Zhou made her realize how inappropriate her actions had been. She had imagined the world too simply and had naively beautified many harsh societal norms. But this realization came at the cost of two lives.

Lin Jiayue, now emaciated, looked even more pitiful with her large, cat-like eyes.

“Jiang Xingjian, you promised me.”

Tears the size of beans rolled down, burning her heart.

She couldn’t lose Jiang Xingjian. If she lost him, everything she had done, and the lives of Jiang Jing and Madam Zhou, would be in vain.

Lin Jiayue stepped forward to hold Jiang Xingjian’s hand. He looked down and saw a thin layer of gauze on her hand.

Song Wan glanced at Lin Jiayue and then frowned. She didn’t see love in Lin Jiayue’s eyes; she only saw confusion and obsession.

Jiang Xingjian pulled her hand away and said softly, “You’re ill. I’ll have Heng Zhi take you back.”

“I’m not going back.”

“I can’t go back. Where would I go?”

She was soaked, and the water pooling at her feet formed a circle like an invisible shackle.

“Jiang Xingjian, keep your promise, and I’ll keep mine.”

Holding back her sobs, Lin Jiayue smiled slightly. “Come back to Xiu Yan Pavilion with me. In five days, I’ll show you the firearm.”

Jiang Xingjian’s eyes were unreadable. Song Wan signaled Heng Zhi, who draped a clean robe over Lin Jiayue. Song Wan then said gently, “Prepare an umbrella and escort the Marquis and Concubine Lin back to Xiu Yan Pavilion.”

Lin Jiayue glanced back, suddenly avoiding Song Wan’s gaze in embarrassment and panic.

Heng Zhi supported Lin Jiayue, and Heng Wu efficiently held an umbrella at the door. Jiang Xingjian looked at Song Wan, smirked coldly, and then helped Lin Jiayue out.

Back at Xiu Yan Pavilion, Jiang Xingjian told her to rest, but Lin Jiayue removed her clothes and clung to him.

Jiang Xingjian tried to pull away, but Lin Jiayue kissed him through her tears. “Don’t go. I have nothing without you…”

She truly couldn’t live without Jiang Xingjian.

Holding onto his slender waist like a drowning person clutching driftwood, Lin Jiayue cried as she pulled him to the bed, reaching up to unfasten the curtain ties.