Chapter 2

The rain was still falling—heavier now, it seemed.

Su Qingluo no longer wished to entangle herself with that shameless pair. Without waiting for the carriage, she ran through the rain back to the Lu residence. It was only two streets away, after all. But when she reached the narrow alley by the side gate, she suddenly stopped. She didn’t want to go in. Unable to hold back, she clung to Zi Yuan and began to cry softly.

At the age of ten, after losing both her parents, she had followed her uncle Lu You from Jinling to the capital to live with her maternal grandmother’s family. Though her grandmother treated her even better than a biological granddaughter, Su Qingluo knew deep down that this was never truly her home.

Then Lu Yan appeared. Gentle and courteous, he often gifted her trinkets that young ladies liked—exotic spices, jade hairpins, decorative vases. The Su family was the wealthiest in Jinling, and she had grown up surrounded by such luxuries. Yet she still felt that Lu Yan had her in his heart. Later, her grandmother and aunt arranged the engagement between her and Lu Yan. She didn’t object—in fact, she began to look forward to having a home of her own, one where she wouldn’t be alone anymore. But now, that hope had completely crumbled.

Zi Yuan had never seen her so heartbroken. She held her tightly and kept trying to comfort her: “Miss, you must take care of your health. Let’s go inside first.”

Su Qingluo didn’t respond. Rain mixed with tears streamed down her face. The fine threads of rain fell at a slant, weaving together in the wind like tangled silk.

Su Qingluo felt like a rootless leaf, drifting and spinning in the wind, unable to fall. Suddenly, her gaze landed on a palanquin made of purple sandalwood—elegant and imposing. Four bearers carried it forward, followed by a retinue of attendants in blue robes. Their footsteps were perfectly synchronized, even in the rain.

A hand abruptly lifted the curtain of the palanquin. The fingers were long and well-defined, with a pale green jade thumb ring. A cool, slightly impatient voice followed: “Which servant doesn’t know the rules?”

Su Qingluo stiffened at the sound. She recognized that jade ring—it was one she had gifted.

The person inside was Lu Hengzhi?

Six years ago, when her father passed away, her uncle Lu You came to help with the funeral arrangements. At his side was a sixteen-year-old boy—Lu Hengzhi.

She had learned then that Lu Hengzhi was a collateral descendant of the Lu family, brought along by her uncle for training and experience. On the journey from Jinling back to the capital, they were attacked by river bandits. Lu Hengzhi had shielded her and taken a knife wound—three inches long—across his arm. After returning to the capital, she had sent him a few gifts to express her gratitude. Among them was that very jade thumb ring.

Who would have imagined that in just six short years, Lu Hengzhi would rise to become the most powerful Chief Minister of the court, a favored confidant of the Emperor? Even the Lu family had to lower their pride, formally recording this collateral branch under the main family line in the ancestral registry.

From that point on, Su Qingluo was expected to address him respectfully as “Third Brother.” Though they lived under the same roof, he belonged to the main household and was an outsider male; she was a woman of the second branch. Aside from brief encounters during family festivals, they had little interaction.

In those few glimpses, Su Qingluo had only felt that his presence grew more commanding, his demeanor increasingly cold and taciturn. She’d heard rumors of how Lu Hengzhi dominated the court—how he manipulated political tides, ruthlessly eliminated rivals, and once even beat a servant to death for stealing a book.

Everyone in the Lu family feared this cold-faced Yama. So when she heard his icy voice just now, a chill crept into her heart. She regretted her impulsiveness—crying here of all places.

Surely, he wouldn’t punish her?

The curtain of the palanquin had only been lifted a sliver. She couldn’t see the face inside.

Zi Yuan was so frightened she didn’t dare lift her head. Her voice trembled as she said, “Reporting to Third Master Heng, it was Second Branch’s Miss Su who accidentally twisted her ankle. She didn’t mean to cause any disturbance. Please forgive her.”

The man didn’t respond right away. After a moment, the palanquin was lowered to the ground.

Su Qingluo looked up. A pair of black boots stepped onto the wet stone pavement. The man slowly emerged. A white oil-paper umbrella was immediately raised above his head, and almost simultaneously, a white cloak was draped over his shoulders.

Lu Hengzhi wore a blue imperial robe embroidered with a python motif. His broad shoulders and jade belt at the waist gave him an air of noble restraint and quiet authority. But his eyes seemed born without warmth. He glanced at her, cold and indifferent.

Su Qingluo quickly lowered her gaze and wiped the rain from her face with a handkerchief, feeling utterly disheveled.

In the next moment, Lu Hengzhi stepped toward her, removed the white cloak from his shoulders, and placed it around hers. Then he took the umbrella and held it over her head himself.

Startled, Su Qingluo forgot to refuse. By the time she came to her senses, the cloak was already on her. It had been a long time since she’d seen Lu Hengzhi this close. He had grown more mature and taller, too. Standing before her now, he exuded a quiet pressure that was hard to ignore.

The rain intensified, drumming against the umbrella like beans falling on a drum.

His voice landed in her heart like those raindrops. “Who bullied you?”

Calm. Certain.

The grievance Su Qingluo had worked so hard to suppress surged up again. She could only reply, “No one. I just twisted my ankle.”

Lu Hengzhi lowered his gaze, eyes fixed on her as if trying to read her.

She felt herself falter under his scrutiny. “If Third Master has no further matters, I’ll take my leave.”

The sound of rain grew louder, echoing her racing heartbeat.

After a pause, he gave a quiet “Mm.”

Thank goodness he didn’t press further.

As she turned to leave, Su Qingluo remembered the cloak around her shoulders and reached to remove it—only to hear his voice: “Keep it on.”

A tone that brooked no argument.

Su Qingluo immediately froze, not daring to move. She could only murmur, “Thank you, Third Master.”

Third Master? Lu Hengzhi lowered his gaze—it had been a long time since he’d looked at her this closely.

The once noble and delicate young girl had grown taller. Her dark hair at the forehead was damp from the fine rain, and droplets still clung to her cheeks, making her skin appear even fairer than snow. She wore a pale yellow dress cinched with a rouge-red sash, her slender waist barely a handful, carrying the soft charm of a blossoming maiden.

Three years ago, they’d briefly crossed paths at a family banquet. Back then, she had sweetly followed the others in calling him “Third Brother.” Now, she addressed him formally as “Third Master.”

A flicker of displeasure passed through Lu Hengzhi’s eyes. Was it because she was about to marry that man? Then why had she been crying here, so aggrieved? Had that man mistreated her?

Su Qingluo could clearly sense the shift in his expression, though she didn’t understand the reason. Not daring to linger, she bowed and prepared to leave. Only then did she realize the oil-paper umbrella had been shielding her all along—Lu Hengzhi’s shoulder was soaked through. She was quietly startled. Perhaps he wasn’t as cold and unfeeling as people said.

The rain grew heavier, thunder rumbling overhead.

“You go first,” Lu Hengzhi said, his face still somber. He handed her the umbrella and stepped back, letting the rain drench him completely.

Su Qingluo understood—he was an outsider male, and it wouldn’t be proper for them to return through the side gate together. Instinctively, she didn’t want to accept the umbrella. But seeing the displeasure in his expression, she didn’t dare refuse. She took it and hurried forward, feeling as though a pair of eyes were fixed on her back, prompting her to walk faster and faster. Only after entering through the side gate did she finally breathe a sigh of relief, quickly making her way to her own courtyard. Returning in such a drenched state was hardly proper, but fortunately, she was at best half a mistress in the Lu household—few paid her any mind.

Just as she stepped into the courtyard, a commotion erupted outside, accompanied by the stern voice of a nanny, “Let me remind you all—the Grand Secretary himself, our Third Master Heng, has returned. Everyone had better be on their best behavior. If anyone dares make a mistake during this time, don’t expect me to show mercy.”

Su Qingluo felt a sudden, inexplicable panic rise in her chest.