Zong Si naturally didn’t take the drunken words of the young noblewoman seriously. Even considering a previous lifetime, the logic still held: he had no motive to marry Ning Fu, and no one could force him into a union he didn’t desire. A marriage between them simply wasn’t possible.

Realizing he wouldn’t get any answers, he didn’t linger. Rising, he lit a signal flare with his firestarter.

“I’m cold,” Ning Fu whispered.

Zong Si removed his cloak. Having just recovered from illness, Fourth Miss Ning’s body was still frail and vulnerable to the chill. He didn’t mind extending the favor—Lu Xingzhi would owe him for it.

As he draped the cloak around her, Ning Fu instinctively sought warmth, curling into his embrace. Still caught in her belief that this was their past life, she held no reservations—after all, she’d managed his princely estate for three years. Why shouldn’t she seek warmth from him?

Zong Si had trained extensively in martial arts—his body was always warm, and his tall frame made for a comfortable shelter. She was about to wrap her arms around his waist when he quickly intercepted her gesture.

“Please behave, Fourth Miss,” he said coolly.

“You’re one to talk,” Ning Fu retorted. “Acting all noble in public—but still sneaking into my quarters at night.”

Zong Si’s brow twitched slightly, but before he could reply, footsteps echoed nearby.

It was Lu Xingzhi and Ning Yu.

Zong Si immediately widened the distance between himself and Ning Fu. “Fourth Miss and the princess merely overindulged—nothing serious.”

Seeing Ning Fu safe and sound, both men finally relaxed.

“Thank you,” said Ning Yu.

“It’s a chilly night—best to escort the young ladies back,” Zong Si added. With guardians now present, he intended to withdraw. As he reached for his cloak, Ning Fu looked at him with tearful eyes. His gaze paused briefly on her face—then, expression unreadable, he looked away and turned to leave.

---

Ning Fu didn’t wake until the following noon.

“You’re finally up! You nearly scared your brother to death last night,” Wei Ziyi said with a smile. “Fortunately, it was just a bit too much wine—no real trouble.”

Ning Fu hadn’t expected the wine to be so potent. Being drunk was truly unpleasant—she resolved never to drink again. As she rubbed her aching forehead, fragments of memory returned. She paused.

Though parts of the night remained fuzzy, one detail stood out with unnerving clarity—she’d called Zong Si “husband.”

Her face clouded. Zong Si already held leverage over her—pretending nothing had happened after such an offense was far from wise. She thought about apologizing to him, but never got the chance. According to Ning Yu, he and Lu Xingzhi had returned to the capital for urgent affairs.

The matter would have to be set aside for now.

She didn’t see the princess again either. The drunken antics had caused a stir, and Emperor Jingwen—afraid more mischief might ensue—declined the princess’s invitation on Ning Fu’s behalf, citing her need for rest and recovery.

The matter of the princess seeking a consort seemed to have quietly dissipated without further developments. Ning Fu was curious about who the lucky man might be, but she had no recollection of this ever unfolding.

Soon enough, the autumn hunt came to a close.

On the day of their return to the capital, Ning Fu received another reward from Emperor Jingwen—a snowy-white parrot, its feathers pristine and its beak red like cinnabar, bearing a resemblance to an owl in stature and shape.

This parrot, in her previous life, had belonged to the Sixth Prince. Not wanting to take what another cherished, she said, “Uncle, I’m not very good at keeping birds—perhaps the Sixth Prince should care for it instead.”

Meng Ze laughed. “A white parrot is rare—only one in ten years. Father gave it to you because he favors you. Just find a birdkeeper once you’re home, cousin.”

The word “cousin” unsettled Ning Fu.

In her past life, though Meng Ze had tried to force her into becoming his concubine, it hadn’t been out of affection. What he’d coveted was the influence her maternal grandmother wielded.

Though Princess Kangyang had requested to be posted away from court, she remained close to Prince Wei, a powerful military figure stationed at the northern borders. At the time, Meng Ze had still been vying for the crown against the Fourth Prince, Meng Che—naturally, he wanted Prince Wei’s support, which made Ning Fu a convenient pawn.

Once Prince Wei passed away, she lost her value, and Meng Ze never gave her another glance.

Ning Fu pushed those memories aside; now wasn’t the time to offend Meng Ze. “Thank you, Cousin, for your generosity.”

“If there’s anything you don’t understand, come ask me,” Meng Ze said.

Though his words sounded generous, they were just polite formalities. She, a noblewoman secluded from public affairs, would hardly have the opportunity to see him.

Once in the capital, the carriages of various noble houses dispersed. When they reached Changhua Street, Ning Fu saw Madam Ning waiting at the gate of Duke Ning’s estate.

“Mother,” Ning Fu called out, smiling.

Madam Ning took one look at her sun-darkened, thinner daughter and nearly burst into tears from concern.

As soon as Ning Fu stepped out of the carriage, she was pulled into a tight embrace. “They said you were sick—I’ve been worried sick these past days. Are you feeling better now?”

“I’ve long recovered. And Mother, my horseback archery has improved a lot—even His Majesty praised me.” Ning Fu beamed as she shared her happy news. “Look—this is the white parrot His Majesty awarded me. They say it’s only caught once a decade.”

But Madam Ning paid no mind to the bird. She continued inspecting her daughter closely, afraid there might be hidden injuries. Seeing her swollen wrist, she grew both angry and distressed. “What, you even hide things from your mother now?”

Ning Fu’s wrist was indeed still painful. She hadn’t treated the injury properly after sparring with the princess, and hadn’t told anyone—after all, she didn’t want to appear delicate while out in public.

Now that she was home, and her mother looked at her as though she’d endured some monumental hardship, Ning Fu felt a lump form in her throat.

“Mother… I’m hungry,” she said, nestling close in a playful pout.

Madam Ning could no longer stay mad. “Dinner’s already prepared. Your grandmother is waiting for you in Qin Garden, and your father will be home shortly. Oh—and your uncle is at the manor today as well.”

Ning Fu’s uncle was Duke Ning, Ning Zhenxiu, an official of fourth rank serving as the Chief Equerry. Her father, though not titled as duke, held the second-rank post of Minister of Personnel, overseeing the appointment and management of officials.

Years ago, her aunt had mocked Madam Ning behind her back, saying it was laughable for a grand princess’s legitimate daughter to marry nothing more than the duke’s second son. Madam Ning had stewed over the insult for years. Thankfully, her husband’s rising official status had gradually soothed that grievance.

Even so, Duke Ning and her father had always shared a close bond, and the two branches of the family generally got along.

After freshening up in the Bamboo Courtyard, Ning Fu headed to Qin Garden, where her father was already in cheerful conversation with Duke Ning.

“Father, Uncle,” she greeted them.

Duke Ning smiled. “Ah Fu, today your uncle must praise you properly. You’ve brought great honor to the Duke Ning household.”

News of her archery match with the princess had reached the capital early, earning her a fine reputation. And Duke Ning wasn’t the only one pleased. Her father and grandmother were equally delighted—since the news had arrived, they’d seemed to glow a little brighter each day.

“Is there anything you’d like?” her uncle asked.

After some thought, Ning Fu replied, “His Majesty gifted me a white parrot. Uncle, could you help me find a birdkeeper?”

“I’ll see to it tomorrow,” he agreed readily.

After that, Ning Fu joined her grandmother and her aunt, Madam Wei, and began recounting amusing stories from the hunt.

What Grandmother cared most about was how Emperor Jingwen had treated her, and how generously he’d praised her. When she heard he’d asked Ning Fu to call him ‘Uncle,’ Grandmother’s smile deepened—thoughts and calculations already stirring in her mind.

Royal favor meant Ning Fu now held leverage for future marriage prospects.

Madam Wei added, “Your cousin was thrilled for you and hopes you’ll visit the Wei household soon.”

She was referring to Ning Ran, Duke Ning’s legitimate daughter and Ning Fu’s first cousin. Ning Fu hadn’t seen her for quite some time, so she asked curiously, “How has Sister Ran been?”

Madam Wei sighed. “Her husband dotes on her, and even her mother-in-law treats her with great respect. She told me she feels even more free after marriage. Such a heartless girl.”

Though her words seemed exasperated, her tone was clearly proud.

To have her husband wrapped around her finger—Ning Ran was certainly a force to be reckoned with. Even though the Wei family wasn’t among the highest-ranking clans, they still led a sweet and satisfying life.

In her previous life, Ning Fu hadn’t possessed that ability. Most of her return visits had been lonely affairs. Seeing Ning Ran and her husband together, it was impossible not to envy them.

“Eldest Aunt, Sister Ran is simply living well. Even after marrying out, she’s never forgotten her roots in Duke Ning’s household,” Ning Fu said.

Madam Wei’s smile grew more sincere—her daughter was naturally the best in her eyes. She understood what Grandmother Ning was scheming, but didn’t believe that just because Prince Xuan’s household hadn’t chosen her daughter, they’d turn their sights to Ning Fu.

Of course, if Prince Xuan did take an interest, it would benefit the main household. But Ning Fu wouldn’t be able to manage Zong Si, and within half a year, there’d surely be new women entering his chambers.

That day, the main and secondary branches of the family gathered for a rare reunion dinner, cheerful and warm.

“Zhenxiu and Ah Fu just returned—everyone, head back now,” Old Madam Ning said with a wave of her hand.

The two brothers bid farewell at the entrance of Qin Garden.

“My lord, the soup in my rooms should be ready just about now,” Madam Wei offered warmly.

But Duke Ning brushed it off. “I’m not hungry today. You go ahead—I’ll stop by Madam Zhang’s place.”

With that, he strode off.

Madam Wei’s smile froze. She touched her fading looks, her gaze slowly chilling. Madam Zhang was growing reckless with her attempts to gain favor—it seemed she’d even forgotten the hierarchy between wife and concubine.

—

Elsewhere, Madam Ning and Ning Zhenyuan walked together down the corridor but exchanged barely a few words.

Ning Zhenyuan, however, stole glances at Madam Ning the whole way.

“Mother, Father really missed you. Wanting to see me was just a pretense—he came back to see you,” Ning Fu said, trying to play peacemaker.

Madam Ning replied serenely, “He doesn’t miss me. Perhaps he’s already grown tired of my age.”

Ning Zhenyuan said urgently, “I never—”

“Should I arrange for you to take another concubine?” Madam Ning interrupted calmly.

Ning Zhenyuan flinched, immediately admitting, “It was my fault. But nothing ever happened between me and that Madam Yu. I only thought that once a few years passed and Mother passed on, I’d quietly send her away. That way, I wouldn’t be betraying you or upsetting Mother.”

Madam Ning glanced at him. “And if there’s a next time?”

Madam Yu had nearly brought harm to Ning Fu—Ning Zhenyuan wouldn’t dare keep another woman by his side now.

“I swear there won’t be a next time,” he said solemnly. “If Mother tries to push another concubine on me, I won’t go to Qin Garden anymore—at least not until she relents.”

Her father’s greatest flaw was his overindulgent affection toward his mother, leaving him unable to reject any of her requests. But his remarks today marked the first step toward change. Breaking from zero to one was the hardest part. Once that threshold was crossed, reshaping his thinking would be possible.

Ning Fu tugged at Madam Ning’s sleeve. “Mother.”

Madam Ning didn’t keep needling Ning Zhenyuan. Since she had already gotten what she wanted, there was no need to push her husband further away.

When they arrived at Madam Ning’s Lotus Pavilion, Ning Zhenyuan was no longer barred from entry. For the first time in four months, he stepped into her private quarters. Only then did Ning Fu breathe a sigh of relief. As long as her mother held firm, no one could take her father away.

For three consecutive mornings, Ning Zhenyuan emerged from Madam Ning’s chambers. He even began returning home earlier than usual. Three days later, he received an imperial order to handle affairs in Yangzhou.

It was only after his departure that Ning Fu finally had time alone with her mother. She brought up Princess Kangyang. “His Majesty spoke of Maternal Grandmother this time… yet had me call him ‘Uncle.'”

Madam Ning replied calmly, “His Majesty doesn’t favor your maternal grandmother. You needn’t take that ‘uncle’ too seriously.”

Ning Fu understood. Emperor Jingwen had merely used the term to project magnanimity and graciousness in front of his ministers. What she truly worried about was Princess Kangyang’s household. “Mother, please write to Maternal Grandmother. Whatever happens, it’s best she knows what’s going on.”

Madam Ning paused briefly, then said, “I’ll do as you ask.”

Her handwriting—restrained yet sharp—was one Ning Fu had studied since childhood. Their calligraphy carried a striking resemblance.

“Mother, send her my greetings too,” Ning Fu said softly as she saw her mother pause her brush.

Madam Ning was momentarily moved. “Have you forgotten your grandmother’s warning?”

Years ago, Emperor Jingwen had more than once contemplated eliminating Princess Kangyang. To avoid trouble, Old Madam Ning had deliberately distanced Ning Fu and her brother from her maternal family, forbidding contact with the princess’s household.

That habit of silence, shaped in childhood and compounded by distance, left their bond far from close—despite Ning Fu’s maturity and later efforts.

Though Madam Ning and Princess Kangyang had agreed to this arrangement, it had hurt them deeply.

“Mother, even without much contact, when His Majesty mentioned me, he still brought up Maternal Grandmother. Old Madam’s strategy was too extreme. If His Majesty intended to find fault, he could dig up something from even the most distant ties,” Ning Fu reasoned.

“You’re getting more careless with your words,” Madam Ning scolded, her brows pinching. “We don’t speak of the Emperor like that—not even in private.”

“I was wrong,” Ning Fu admitted right away.

Madam Ning’s expression eased. After a pause, she said warmly, “Your grandmother will surely be pleased.”

Yongzhou was far from the capital, and no reply had yet arrived from Princess Kangyang, even after a month. But Ning Fu’s archery assessment was approaching fast. Her skills had improved—but in the final days before the exam, even pastries no longer appealed to her.

On the day of the exam, the sky was still dark when Ning Fu awoke. But she wasn’t the only one on edge—most noble ladies arrived at the academy much earlier than usual.

“Sister Wei, do you know who the examiner is this year?” someone asked Wei Ziyi.

The Ministry of Rites oversaw the exam, and Wei’s father held a position there. Since Wei Ziyi herself didn’t need to take the test this year, she was naturally the most likely to know.

“You’re really putting me on the spot. Aside from the Minister himself, no one knows who the examiner is,” Wei Ziyi replied.

To ensure fairness, both the men’s imperial exams and the women’s assessments grew stricter each year. Examiners were confined for a month prior, and only the Minister of Rites was permitted to meet with them. But Ning Fu remembered the examiner clearly—he was from the provinces and unfamiliar with the capital’s noble houses. There’d be no chance of favoritism.

Xie Ruyi and Zong Ning arrived last. The latter had fully recovered from her injury sustained during the autumn hunt.

Ning Fu couldn’t help but admire them. True skill always makes its entrance with flair—she remembered how both had landed top-tier scores in archery.

The order of examination was determined by lot; Ning Fu drew number six.

Before things began, someone shouted, “The Heir is here with Master Guanyang to observe!”

But with so many people present, Ning Fu couldn’t spot Zong Si—not even with his usual standout presence. When her turn came, she focused fully. Ten arrows at moving targets, ten at stationary ones—she missed none. But final scores wouldn’t be released for several days. At last, she could breathe—she’d performed steadily. Even at worst, her results wouldn’t be poor.

—

Master Guanyang smiled. “That must be the young lady His Majesty mentioned—Xingzhi’s student?”

Zong Si nodded.

Master Guanyang stroked his beard. “Her technique resembles yours more than Xingzhi’s.”

Zong Si had already noticed and said, “Before the autumn hunt, I returned to the capital to investigate. Found no spies from Princess Kangyang near me.”

Master Guanyang chuckled. “But to resemble your style so closely—it’s not something one could pick up by watching from afar.”

Zong Si paused, silent.

“With Ah Ning and Miss Xie’s archery, it’s clear you offered guidance—but their style comes from their own understanding. Fourth Miss Ning’s technique, however, looks like it came from your hand directly. Her strength and precision—they feel as though you guided her shot for shot, holding her hand each time.”

And that kind of teaching—it far exceeded what was proper between men and women. Only husband and wife would share such intimacy.