Jin Anazi’s attire had all been pilfered from the back room of Linglong Pavilion.
It bore the lingering scent of sweat from its previous owner, which was why he had considered discarding some of the more pungent, yet non-essential items.
Upon seeing Duan Ling, he couldn’t help but glance at Lin Ting, though he refrained from speaking out of turn.
A gust of warm wind swept through the corridor, brushing against Lin Ting’s face and somehow turning cool.
She instinctively moved to stand beside Duan Ling, her expression composed:
“I saw him on my way back from the restroom and stopped to chat for a bit. Sorry to have kept you waiting.”
“Not long at all,” Duan Ling replied indifferently.
“The meal has grown a bit cold, but that’s no issue. We’ll just have someone reheat it later.”
“Is the meal cold?” Lin Ting was puzzled.
Had she really been searching for Jin Anazi for that long?
It couldn’t have been more than a quarter of an hour, and with the recent heat, how could the food cool so quickly?
It was already lukewarm when it was brought up from Linglong Pavilion.
She figured that was the most likely explanation.
“Is Master Jin here to work as a clerk at Linglong Pavilion?” Duan Ling scrutinized Jin Anazi’s attire—simple cloth clothes and a small cap.
However, the brown cloth over his shoulder and the sweatband on his forehead had been casually discarded on the ground, though the cloth bag for tips around his waist remained.
Before Jin Anazi could respond, Lin Ting interjected, “Yes, the cloth shop and bookshop I run haven’t been doing so well lately, so he’s taken up a job as a clerk. I just found out about it myself.”
“I see,” Duan Ling said, not questioning further.
“With Master Jin’s skills, it seems a pity for him to be a mere clerk.”
He shifted his gaze to the items on the ground.
“But if Master Jin is working at Linglong Pavilion, why did you take off and discard these things just now?”
Jin Anazi remained unruffled, his words concise:
“They’re dirty, and I never intended to stay long at Linglong Pavilion. I’m leaving today.”
Duan Ling extended a friendly invitation:
“Would Master Jin like to stay and dine with us?”
They had just been married the day before, and Jin Anazi wasn’t so tactless as to intrude on their time together:
“No need. I have other matters to attend to and must leave now.”
Duan Ling smiled gently, his jade-like face and crimson clothes making him appear even more amiable.
He courteously stepped aside to let Jin Anazi pass: “Then farewell, Master Jin.”
Jin Anazi turned and left.
Lin Ting didn’t look at Jin Anazi; instead, she looked at Duan Ling and tugged at his wrist guard:
“Shall we go upstairs?”
But he raised his hand to unfasten the agarwood sachet from his waist and tied it to her skirt belt.
The sachet was simple, with minimal embroidery—only a single white feather stitched on each side, in pure apricot color.
Lin Ting looked down as he tied the sachet.
The movement of the belt tugged at her waist, causing a ticklish yet tingling sensation that traveled up to her chest:
“Why are you giving this to me suddenly?”
His hand slowly left her waist: “Don’t you like this scent?”
She did like the scent, but hearing him say that, she felt there might be another layer of meaning to it, though she wasn’t sure if she was overthinking.
Lin Ting touched the newly added sachet at her waist, her fingertips instantly imbued with its fragrance, which seemed to cling to her.
She looked at the single white feather embroidered on the sachet, with wisps of agarwood wafting up:
“Yes, I like this scent. It’s very pleasant.”
They spent the morning at Linglong Pavilion and left at noon.
However, no sooner had they stepped out than several Imperial guards approached Duan Ling, saying there was an urgent matter requiring his attention at the Northern Commandery.
There were some things Duan Ling could ignore when he was off-duty, but this urgent matter was something he had instructed the guards to report to him immediately upon any news.
So, despite knowing that Duan Ling had just been married and was on his wedding leave, the guards came to inform him.
Lin Ting stood by, half-listening, and prepared to head back to the mansion on her own.
But then Duan Ling asked, “Would you accompany me to the Northern Commandery? We can return to the mansion in an hour.”
“Accompany you to the Northern Commandery? That doesn’t seem quite appropriate. Aren’t you going to handle official business? What would I do there? I can just head back to the mansion by myself.”
They had taken a carriage to leave, so she wouldn’t have to walk back; she could simply sit in the carriage.
Duan Ling began to speak, but before he could finish, Lin Ting covered his mouth with her hand: “I’ll go.”
The guards, seeing her cover Duan Ling’s mouth, all bowed their heads, not daring to look.
This was because he had been known to be ruthless in the prison, often using a gentle tone to interrogate stubborn prisoners while simultaneously inflicting physical harm, like a heartless, exquisite puppet.
Now that he was married, it seemed like he might have changed a bit, but it was unclear whether this was genuine or just an act.
Unaware of the guards’ thoughts, Lin Ting lowered her damp palm.
As Duan Ling tried to speak, his lips accidentally brushed against her hand.
The guards didn’t notice, and it seemed Duan Ling didn’t either, but she did.
Her hand tightened slightly, and she was suddenly reminded of how he had licked and sucked on her fingers the night before their wedding.
She didn’t show any reaction and stepped onto the footstool to enter the carriage that was turning onto the street leading to the Northern Commandery.
Duan Ling followed behind her.
As soon as Lin Ting got into the carriage, she closed her eyes, thinking about what to have for dinner, hoping that by doing so, she wouldn’t be reminded of the previous night and start daydreaming again when she saw him.
Duan Ling asked, “Are you tired?”
The Northern Commandery had a hall where people could rest.
She had even lain on the bamboo couch behind the screen in his private hall last time.
Lin Ting opened her eyes: “I just wanted to close my eyes for a bit.”
“Is your eye uncomfortable?” Duan Ling leaned over, his hand gently touching the corner of her eye, gazing into her eyes that reflected his face.
He felt an inexplicable sense of satisfaction and pleasure deep within.
At that moment, her eyes held only him.
His warm finger made Lin Ting want to blink: “No, it’s not.”
Duan Ling withdrew his hand.
After about half an hour, the carriage arrived at the Northern Commandery.
Lin Ting, who knew the place well, went to wait in Duan Ling’s hall while he went to the prison to interrogate a prisoner.
The prison was dim and damp, with the flickering candlelight on the walls casting an eerie glow.
Duan Ling pushed open the door to the torture chamber and walked up to the Minister of Works, who was hanging on the wall.
He looked up at him and asked, “Minister Xu, I heard you once met with the fifth young master of the Xie family, Xie Qinghe?”
The Minister of Works, who had been tortured, had injuries on his face and spoke with difficulty:
“I met him three months before he staged a rebellion. At that time, considering he was the son of an old friend, I didn’t report it to the court.”
In fact, General Xie had once saved his life.
When the Xie family was stripped of their assets, he couldn’t do much, and he felt guilty.
He couldn’t repay their kindness with ingratitude.
Duan Ling took a step forward, stepping over the chunks of flesh on the ground:
“Why did Xie Qinghe seek you out?”
The Minister of Works didn’t want to say, but since he had a handle on him held by the Imperial guards, he had no choice but to tell the truth:
“He asked me to take care of his mother and sister who had been sent to the brothel.”
It was common for court officials to take a liking to someone in the brothel and use money to smooth things over.
Generally, nothing serious would happen, at worst, they would be labeled as lecherous, and no one would pursue the matter further.
Duan Ling took the branding iron out of the hot charcoal: “Did you help him?”
The Minister of Works sighed and revealed everything:
“I intended to help him, but before I could arrange things with the people in the brothel, his mother and sister had already died. Fate can be so cruel.”
Duan Ling twirled the branding iron, a streak of crimson stopping in front of his eyes:
“Why did they die?”
The Minister of Works shuddered, lowering his eyelids and his lips quivered as he spoke:
“His mother had already fallen seriously ill before he approached me. With no money to bribe, the people in the brothel ignored her. His sister had to find a way to raise money to save her.”
Back in the day, General Xie was a founding hero, and the Xie family held a very high status in the capital.
Everyone flocked to him.
But when the Xie family fell into trouble, people avoided them like the plague, and some even took advantage of their misfortune.
The world is as cold as ice.
Thinking of this, the Minister of Works felt a complex mix of emotions.
“And then?” Duan Ling prompted.
“The money was finally raised, but it was too late. His sister, heartbroken, threw herself into a well that very night,” the Minister of Works quickly added, “That’s all I know. I truly don’t know anything else.”
Xie Qinghe had escaped the city before his mother and sister died.
The Minister of Works genuinely had no idea he would stage a rebellion.
He seemed so gentle and naive; otherwise, he wouldn’t have sought his help, showing no signs of rebellion.
Perhaps it was only after hearing of his loved ones’ deaths that Xie Qinghe conceived the idea of rebellion.
The Minister of Works was somewhat moved.
Duan Ling blinked, listening to him indifferently, and tossed the branding iron back into the charcoal.
The Minister of Works shuddered again at the sound of the iron hitting the charcoal, and suddenly remembered something:
“There’s one more thing. The director of the Eastern Depot visited the brothel on the day they died, claiming a criminal had escaped inside and needed to conduct an inspection.”
Ta Xuening was a eunuch; if he hadn’t used the pretext of an inspection, people would easily associate him with his disability.
However, his visit to the brothel was indeed just for an inspection.
In fact, the Minister of Works didn’t think Ta Xuening had anything to do with their deaths.
He was just saying whatever came to mind, hoping the Imperial guards wouldn’t torture his old bones anymore and that he could see his ailing mother one last time before he died.
Duan Ling didn’t continue the interrogation.
He walked out of the gloomy prison and looked up at the sun.
The sunlight was dazzling.
He initially had to close his eyes to adjust, but gradually he got used to it and opened them again, gazing at the elusive shadow of the sun.
Even though Duan Ling hadn’t personally tortured anyone that day, his clothes still reeked of the blood from the prison, and his boots had stepped in quite a bit of viscous blood.
Before heading to the hall, he took a bath and used incense to freshen up.
After bathing, Duan Ling chose to wear a set of clothes in the same color as his wedding attire from the day before.
In the past, he liked crimson clothes because their color resembled blood.
Now, he liked crimson clothes even more because he had seen Lin Ting in a bright red wedding dress and makeup during their wedding, and he found the color increasingly beautiful.
Duan Ling put on his clothes, fastened his belt, and walked outside.
His waist-length hair, damp from the bath, cascaded down his back, with droplets of water falling from the tips and following the curve of his waist to silently land on the carpet below.
The carpet absorbed the water.
He wiped the damp ends of his hair with a piece of ramie cloth, raised his hand to gather his long hair, and in doing so, his sleeve, which he hadn’t yet fastened with a wrist guard, slipped down, revealing his wrist.
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