“Excellent.”
Chen Baoxiang came back to herself. “Safe travels, my lords. I still have the water-boiling technique to practice, so I won’t see you out.”
Xie Lanting took his leave with a bow, but once outside the gate he couldn’t help asking, “What’s she practicing for?”
Zhang Zhixu replied, disgruntled, “To give Xu Buran a return gift.”
“Oh? That much effort?”
What effort — she just couldn’t bear to spend silver on expensive tea cakes, so she thought she’d hone her technique and pass off lower-grade tea cakes as finer ones.
Zhang Zhixu gave several cold snorts, settled into the carriage, and after brooding for a moment could not help but glance over at Ningsu.
Ningsu always had the best read of what was on his mind. But to be looked at so suddenly and directly, even he was taken aback a little. “My lord?”
Zhang Zhixu pressed his lips together and said nothing, his expression somewhat sullen.
Ningsu immediately ran an assessment and concluded: “Miss Chen has been either on duty or at home practicing tea lately. She hasn’t seen Lord Xu even once.”
“Who asked you that.” He let out a low grunt and let the carriage curtain fall.
Xie Lanting sat nearby, his expression complicated. “You — when you were indifferent you were one thing, but the moment you catch feelings, you’re unbearably smitten, aren’t you.”
“Who’s smitten.” Zhang Zhixu was displeased. “Aren’t you the one who keeps having suspicions about her? I just had Ningsu keep an eye out — so that next time you try to pin some charge on her, it won’t stick.”
“Heaven and earth as my witness, what charge have I ever pinned on her? Those were all reasonable suspicions.” Xie Lanting spread his hands. “It’s her own doing — falsifying her household registration. She’s clearly from Guixiang Village, yet she wrote Sanxiang Village on the register. If she’s from Guixiang, then she almost certainly knew Cheng Huaili — which means she was lying from the very beginning.”
“And the reason for the lie?”
“Perhaps… to avoid drawing trouble?” Xie Lanting thought it over. “Cheng Huaili’s power and influence were, after all, considerable.”
“Well, there you go.” Zhang Zhixu replied, unimpressed. “She was a commoner with a life as expendable as weeds. Was she supposed to risk her neck helping Yinyue sabotage the marriage, rather than protecting herself? You saw how badly she was hurt when she later helped take back the medicine.”
“That’s not the point. The point is she lied.” Xie Lanting stared at him. “Can you really tolerate a close friend deceiving you like that?”
“Correction — she lied to you, not to me.” Zhang Zhixu shook a finger. “I know her very well. She has never deceived me.”
“How can you possibly know that?”
Naturally, because he had spent all that time inside Chen Baoxiang’s body. What was there left that he didn’t know?
Others didn’t understand her and would naturally misread her. But he was her Great Immortal — he had lived through every ounce of her pain and despair, and it was only right that he stand on her side.
The carriage rocked steadily onward, moving through the misty spring colors in silence.
The hazy spring rain gradually eased and stopped. On the horizon, a burning blaze of late evening clouds slowly revealed itself, only to be swallowed again by the deep, settled dark of night.
Zhang Zhixu played a round of polo at Leyou Plain, then endured a few bites of unremarkable food, and had just concluded that the evening held no further interest and was about to leave — when someone came rushing in in a hurry.
“Lord Xie!” the junior official called out breathlessly. “Please ride out quickly — something has happened in the western outskirts!”