Ning Fu was unsure what Zong Si meant by his words.

“Plucking fruit for you—how does Fourth Miss Ning plan to repay me?” His cold tone carried a deeper implication.

That line had an obvious undertone. If she were truly a young maiden yet to come of age, she might not understand. But Ning Fu had once been a married woman, and had rolled in bed with him more than a few times—how could she not grasp his intention?

He clearly thought she was using gratitude as a pretext to seduce Zong Duo.

Ning Fu, mature at heart, did intend to choose a good husband for herself, but she would never consider anyone from the Prince Xuan’s household. Now, she had to play the part of an innocent young lady, so she feigned ignorance and said sweetly, “If someone picks fruit for me, I would naturally repay them with calligraphy or painting. Since Second Young Master isn’t here, might the Heir lend a helping hand?”

Had she known it was him traveling with them earlier, she would never have made such a request. But now, it was best to just go with the flow.

“Someone will deliver it to you all shortly,” Zong Si replied, his goal achieved. Though distant, he remained courteous and poised.

He said “you all,” not “you” specifically. Perhaps he’d been admired by so many women, he’d grown cautious. But she wouldn’t be one of them anymore.

“Then I thank the Heir,” Ning Fu said and lowered the curtain.

Moments later, someone brought over a basket full of washed fruit, but Ning Fu no longer felt like eating.

Zong Ning awoke about half an hour later and, seeing Zong Si outside the window, exclaimed happily, “Third Brother, Sister Xie looks so pretty in her riding clothes! Oh, please take these wild fruits to her for me!”

Giving fruit was just a pretense—the real goal was helping them meet.

Zong Si looked at the untouched basket and asked, “Fourth Miss Ning isn’t eating?”

“Lost my appetite suddenly. Please, Heir, deliver them to Sister Xie,” Ning Fu responded with a polite smile, secretly lamenting that her earlier words now made her seem like a liar. She truly hadn’t meant to deceive.

Zong Si didn’t reappear after he left—otherwise the journey ahead would’ve felt unbearable.

“Third Brother meets Sister Xie and forgets his own sister,” Zong Ning teased without bitterness.

Only then did Ning Fu realize why Zong Si hadn’t come back. She lowered her gaze and said nothing.

—

Upon reaching the foot of Jilin Mountain, the horses and carriages halted, and the guards began setting up camp.

“Fourth Miss Ning.” As she stepped down from the carriage, someone called out to her. She looked up and saw Lu Xingzhi dismounting and approaching her. Though he was only eighteen, she could see the mature aura of a grown man in him. Clad in a plain blue cloth robe, he was still strikingly handsome.

A woman who had been married didn’t just look at appearances. Ning Fu thought he seemed the reliable type—hardworking and steady. Having experienced marriage herself, she knew the importance of intimacy; a couple could lack affection, but they couldn’t forego conjugal duties.

“Young Master Lu.” Ning Fu greeted him bashfully.

“I picked some wild fruits—would Fourth Miss Ning care for them?” Lu Xingzhi offered her the cloth bag in his hands, watching her intently. “But if you’re not in the mood, please don’t force yourself.”

Ning Fu didn’t actually want to eat them, but she couldn’t bear to turn him down. A handsome man draws a woman’s softer side, and so she smiled, saying, “Thank you, Young Master Lu. I was craving some fruits.”

She reached out and took the heavy bag.

“Did you bring fruit for all the young ladies?” she asked.

Lu Xingzhi shook his head. “The sandalwood xuan paper you gifted me the other day—I liked it very much. I came especially to thank you.” In other words, the fruit was an added courtesy—no other lady received any.

Knowing propriety between men and women, Lu Xingzhi didn’t linger and soon departed.

Ning Fu began to ponder. If he gave fruit solely to her, then—even if he wasn’t confessing affection—he clearly held some fondness.

The Lu family had a simple background, and Lu Xingzhi himself had a solid reputation and striking looks. If he were faithful by nature, he might truly be a good match.

Having been married, her view of men had grown practical: family background and personal conduct came first; affection could be cultivated. If a man was good and loyal, a woman’s heart could easily be won.

Just as these thoughts wandered, her eyes swept across the distance—and there sat Zong Si on horseback. He glanced at the cloth bag in her hands, then gave her a subtle, knowing smile before riding away.

That made her earlier actions seem far less innocent.

Ning Fu’s face flushed red, then paled. She could only pretend not to have seen him. From here on, they were strangers. His opinion of her no longer concerned her in the slightest.

With hours to go before the evening banquet, the young ladies remained in their tents, quietly chatting.

“That young master who stared at Sister Xie earlier—whose family might he belong to?” asked a girl from the Rong family.

“In the whole capital, who doesn’t admire Sister Xie?” Zong Ning chimed in. “So many men have tried, publicly or secretly, to talk to her.”

One girl teased, “Even your brother, no?”

Zong Ning laughed and turned to Xie Ruyi. “Mother once asked my third brother what he thought of Sister Xie. He said the daughter of the Duke of Qing—brilliant and refined, scholarly and gracious—is truly admirable.”

The others looked on with admiration, knowing that someone like Xie Ruyi deserved the very best. That the heir had chosen her brought a sense of balance to their hearts.

“Xiao Ning, don’t tease me anymore. The Heir is as luminous as jade; surely fate will pair him with someone worthy. As for marriage arrangements, that’s for our parents to decide,” Xie Ruyi replied, her ears tinged pink with girlish bashfulness.

“And Second Young Master? What kind of person is he?” someone asked.

Zong Ning rolled her eyes. “My second brother? All he does is swing swords and staffs. If someone bullies me, he’s off with a blade in hand—completely reckless. Whoever marries him will have their hands full.”

Everyone burst into laughter. Still, many harbored quiet feelings for Zong Duo. His unyielding, aloof nature carried a charm of its own.

Ning Fu’s thoughts turned to her own brother—her third brother, who had long been stationed at the frontier and seemed nearly forgotten. She missed him. The last time she saw him in her past life, he was cold and lifeless. Not long before, he had smiled and sent her off to marry: “If Zong Si ever bullies you, I’ll come beat him up. And when you’ve had enough of Prince Xuan’s household, I’ll bring you home.”

Ning Fu couldn’t help but feel a twinge of bitterness in her heart. Not wanting anyone to notice her melancholy, she slipped outside the tent and sat alone by the cold, quiet lakeside. The autumn wind had grown sharp, chilling her into clarity—her thoughts sharper, her memories more vivid.

The last letter her brother had written before his death contained only a single hurried line: telling her to take care of herself and their mother. Clearly, he already knew he was in danger. His death couldn’t have been an accident.

The ones who benefited—her family’s main branch, the Wei family, and the Duke of Qing’s household—were all tied to it. So even though the main branch was their own flesh and blood and inherited the honor her brother had fought so hard for, what worried her most was the possibility they’d been involved in his death.

Ning Fu lowered her gaze. That was the truth she least wanted to face. But if it were true, even the entire Duke’s residence couldn’t compare to what her third brother had been.

Zong Duo had been watching her for a while. He’d arrived earlier than Ning Fu and had wanted to avoid her. But before he could leave, she had already seated herself by the lake. So he remained behind a rock, hoping she’d go first. Half an hour passed, and she still hadn’t moved—now he had to leave.

“Fourth Miss Ning, there are few guards in this area. You’d best return soon,” he said stiffly.

Regardless of whether she truly had ulterior motives, a woman’s safety could not be ignored. So even with his suspicions, he still couldn’t help but speak up.

Ning Fu looked at the man before her. He was more rugged than Prince Xuan’s third son—tall and strong, clearly a martial man.

“Second Young Master,” Ning Fu composed herself, glanced behind him to make sure Zong Si wasn’t nearby, and exhaled in relief before rising to bow.

“Though the lakeside is scenic, it’s still a remote place. Better to have company,” Zong Duo said.

“Thank you for your concern, Second Young Master. I’ll head back now,” she replied with a grateful smile.

Her smile was sweet, almost saccharine—just the kind of coquettish softness Zong Duo usually disliked. Yet today, it didn’t bother him. Instead, he found it oddly pleasing. He frowned slightly at the realization.

After Ning Fu left, a faint scent of peaches lingered in the air. It wasn’t the season for peach blossoms or fruit—could the fragrance be coming from her?

He had faced bloodshed in battle with a steady face, yet now, he felt his cheeks warm. Even after returning, his thoughts kept drifting back to the scent of peaches.

Zong Ning tried talking to him several times, but he remained distracted. She huffed in frustration. “Third Brother, look at Second Brother—has he been bewitched today, or has that young noblewoman stolen his soul?”