Chapter Nine: Rebuking Lu Yanran
Weispoon Qianyu shot a fierce glare at Feng Jinye and asked coldly, “Have you remembered anything today?”
“Yes,” Feng Jinye replied with indifference and then fell silent. If she was as he suspected—if she had pledged herself to Huangfu Chen, or if she was truly from Xiyan, here for vengeance and military power—then all would come to nothing.
Since Feng Jinye was unwilling to speak, Weispoon Qianyu did not press further.
She felt that she and Feng Jinye needed an opportunity for harmonious coexistence, so she said, “I wish to work with you.”
She paused, knowing Feng Jinye needed time to consider, and explained, “You want to find Huangfu Chen and Feng Qingxuan. I want to uncover the truth behind my father's death. You give me the status of Princess Consort of the War Prince to facilitate my actions, and I have the Winter Moon House, which can provide you with intelligence.”
Feng Jinye gazed at Weispoon Qianyu, realizing she was far from simple—Winter Moon House was actually hers!
His mind churned with thoughts, but after considering for a while, he answered, “Very well.”
From the beginning, his purpose had been to keep Weispoon Qianyu close, given the many mysteries surrounding her. Now, a partnership suited him perfectly.
“Then, let us return,” Weispoon Qianyu said, turning away, somewhat dissatisfied with Feng Jinye’s hesitation.
Both mounted their horses, avoiding the main gate and heading straight to the stables near the back hill.
A servant spotted Weispoon Qianyu returning to the War Prince’s manor with the prince and let out a sigh of relief.
After securing her horse, Weispoon Qianyu turned to Feng Jinye and said, “I’ll go to Zhi Yu Pavilion first to deal with Lu Yanran. In a moment, shall we discuss our cooperation?”
“Alright.” Feng Jinye nodded lightly, watching her walk away, resisting a strong impulse to follow.
As Weispoon Qianyu entered Zhi Yu Pavilion, Qingxia, eyes red from crying, rushed over and embraced her, sobbing, “Miss, you’ve finally returned!”
Weispoon Qianyu only smiled. That was Qingxia’s nature, always worrying over everything. She had been gone nearly twenty days—Qingxia must have suffered.
Qingxia fussed over her, asking after her well-being, while Weispoon Qianyu, both helpless and warmed by her care, instructed Dongnuan to fetch Lu Yanran from Qinglan Courtyard.
Lu Yanran, in truth, was a pitiful soul. As a child, she was taken by spies from Xiyan and raised in the former Prime Minister’s residence. Three years ago, the ex-Prime Minister, seeking an alliance with Lin Yichu, married Lu Yanran to him. One year into the marriage, after giving birth to Lin Rui, the Lu couple visited to acknowledge her as their daughter. Lu Yanran left her month-old son without hesitation to return to the Marquis’s residence.
Lin Yichu was Weispoon Qianyu’s cousin—her aunt Weispoon Zhuhao’s son—making Lu Yanran her cousin-in-law. However, Lin Yichu had died before his child was born, and it could be said his death was at Weispoon Qianyu’s hands.
Weispoon Qianyu knew that when Lu Yanran chose to return to the Marquis’s residence, she was hoping to secure a powerful backer for her newborn son. The Lin family then consisted only of orphans and widows, and Lu Yanran felt there was no security for their future.
Now, Lu Yanran sought to enter the War Prince’s manor, still with the same aim: to find another layer of protection for Lin Rui.
Yet the more Weispoon Qianyu observed Lu Yanran, the more she felt her actions were utterly foolish—everything she did ran counter to her desires and plans.
Lu Yanran had been locked in Qinglan Courtyard for several days. When Dongnuan came, she could hardly believe the doors were open. Upon arriving at Zhi Yu Pavilion, she looked dazedly at Weispoon Qianyu.
Weispoon Qianyu said nothing else, only remarked coolly, “Before my marriage, I went to Luandu and saw Rui’er. Before I left, he ran up to me and asked if I was his mother.”
On hearing this, Lu Yanran’s tears fell like rain.
At the Marquis’s residence, Lady Lu, upon hearing Weispoon Qianyu had returned to the War Prince’s manor, sent an invitation in person and naturally brought the antidote along.
Weispoon Qianyu had food prepared for Lu Yanran and left the mother and daughter to talk at length in private.
She took the antidote back to her chambers and had Qingxia fetch Chujiao and invite Imperial Physician Leng to examine the medicine.
Once she was alone, Weispoon Qianyu suddenly recalled that earlier, in the maple woods, the wind had lifted her veil—wondering if Feng Jinye had seen her face.
Qingxia entered. “Princess Consort, Second Miss wishes to see you!”
“I’ve decided to return to Luandu.” Lu Yanran, troubled by many questions, wanted to speak with Weispoon Qianyu. “I thought you couldn’t tolerate me, which is why I plotted with Mother. I was wrong—it was petty of me.”
“Lu Yanran, whether you became Feng Jinye’s consort—or even just his concubine—I would not tolerate it! You should be grateful you turned back from that dead end!” Weispoon Qianyu’s tone was casual, almost careless.
Her words sent chills down Lu Yanran’s spine. She understood now: had she been entangled with Feng Jinye, Weispoon Qianyu would have taken her life. “You!”
So ruthless—her own cousin, yet not even willing to let her be a concubine!
Lu Yanran could never have imagined that Weispoon Qianyu was capable of killing anyone who tried to take her husband.
“Weispoon Qianyu, you are truly cunning. You kept me here, letting Mother and me believe it was out of sentiment, when this was your goal all along!” Lu Yanran’s anger flared.
“You’re wrong. I only let you stay because Feng Jinye has no interest in you!” Weispoon Qianyu replied with a light laugh. “I also never thought a daughter of the Lu family would settle for being someone’s concubine!”
Lu Yanran was left speechless, her expression bleak.
“All you ever wanted was to secure something for Rui’er—going back to the Lu family, then trying to enter the War Prince’s manor. But have you ever thought, if you don’t stay by his side as he grows, what he loses will be something you can never make up for?” Weispoon Qianyu could guess at Lu Yanran’s thoughts.
“If you stayed with the Lin family, even in their decline, they’d still be relatives of the Marquis’s family. Rui’er is the Marquis’s own great-grandson. No matter how bad things get, he would always have that status!” Weispoon Qianyu’s frustration was evident.
“You never considered the Lu family your home! Just because Grandfather and Uncle favored me slightly, you thought they didn’t care for you, that they never regarded you as family. Have you ever considered how I treated you all these years? It was only because you were from the Lu family!” Weispoon Qianyu’s forbearance had always been for the sake of family ties.
She hadn’t spoken so much in a long while. After pausing to sip her tea, she continued, “Ask yourself, who has ever survived after poisoning me? Who has ever tried to assassinate me and been spared by Feng Jinye?”
“Every foolish thing you did was forgiven only because of the Lu family!” Weispoon Qianyu left unsaid that, had it been any other woman trying to enter the War Prince’s manor, she would have been stripped and thrown out or left dead in the street.
She would allow no one to covet her Feng Jinye.
Lu Yanran, lost and desolate, sank to the ground. The floor was icy cold, but she felt nothing. No one came to help her; time slipped silently by as Weispoon Qianyu ignored her.
No one knew how long Lu Yanran sat on the floor, but eventually, she left for Luandu, returning to her son.
At Listening Wind Pavilion, Chujiao clearly sensed his prince’s mood had changed dramatically from previous days.
Feng Jinye lounged, steeping his tea, and called Chujiao in. “Tell me about Weispoon Qianyu.”
Chujiao was startled, unsure why his master had lately been asking about her, but replied cautiously, “My lord, Weispoon Qianyu is dead. She perished in the fire two years ago.”
Feng Jinye frowned. She was clearly alive—was there nothing else?
He had heard in the military camp of the tragic fire that claimed General Weispoon Zhantian’s life.
Chujiao hurriedly knelt. “My lord, the emperor forbade all discussion of the Weispoon family. I dare not speak.”
Feng Jinye shot him a cold look. Chujiao, fearing for his life, decided he’d rather suffer now than not speak at all. “Five years ago, Miss Weispoon met you, my lord. You were taken with her and pursued her relentlessly.”
“Three years ago, when Miss Weispoon came of age, her cousin Lin Yichu arrived in the capital. You feared Lin Yichu would propose, so you asked for her hand at the palace banquet.”
“But the very next day, Lord Lu returned to the capital, declaring Miss Weispoon was betrothed to Young Master Lu and forbade her from marrying you. It was Miss Weispoon who persuaded the marquis and Mr. Lu to break off the engagement.”
“Less than a year later, my lord, you went to war, promising to marry her upon your return.”
“Not long after you left, disaster struck the Weispoon family. Xiyan spies set fire to the Water Moon Pavilion. General Weispoon rescued Miss Luo, then ran back into the flames and never came out.”
“Later, it was said Miss Weispoon was in the pavilion as well. The general rushed in to save his daughter, and both perished in the fire.” Chujiao’s voice was tinged with regret. Weispoon Qianyu had been an exceptional woman, perfect as the prince’s consort.
“There were rumors General Weispoon had betrayed the country, because the one he rescued was a Xiyan spy—and Miss Luo claimed that person was actually Weispoon Qianyu.”
Chujiao recounted all he knew, watching Feng Jinye’s face for any reaction.
He did not know what had happened in Xiyan years ago, only that his master had fallen ill and lost several years of memory. Chujiao suspected his amnesia was linked to Weispoon Qianyu’s death.
He worried his master would not be able to accept the truth of her passing. Every mention of her filled him with dread, fearing that if Feng Jinye ever recalled, it would be a disaster.
As Chujiao finished, Feng Jinye’s face grew dark as storm clouds, and the temperature in the room seemed to plummet—a tempest was on the horizon.
Feng Jinye’s heart ached faintly as he thought of Weispoon Qianyu’s father dying in the fire. How much pain must she have endured? No wonder, that day at the Marquis’s residence, she’d wanted to cry; he’d thought her weak, but what had she truly suffered? What wounds bore she within?
His mind conjured the image of the little girl who had once bandaged his wounds, gently drawing back the curtain and blowing softly on his injuries.
Those eyes—clear, pure, and beautiful—had remained with him ever since. After his campaign, he had searched all of Yuetong for her, only knowing her surname was Lu.
Now, without warning, she had appeared before him, without hesitation or fear. Feng Jinye suddenly felt grateful for heaven’s favor; he had never been so blessed before.