Chapter One Hundred: A Plea

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Grateful for the reward from “Once Cherished Morning Song.”

Wen Jing was startled and turned to see Wang Erlang looking at her in surprise.

“Oh, I accidentally got lost and before I knew it, I had come here. I didn’t expect Seventh Uncle to be living here. Seeing the sky about to rain, I thought I’d take shelter,” Wen Jing explained, steadying her nerves, though inwardly puzzled as to why Wang Erlang had suddenly appeared here...

“I came to deliver bedding to Seventh Uncle. It’s raining, so it will be chilly tonight,” Wang Erlang said with a smile.

Looking at the pile of bedding in Wang Erlang’s hands, Wen Jing’s doubts largely dissipated. It seemed he really was here to deliver bedding; she had been overthinking.

Wang Erlang placed the bedding on the bed, then turned to Seventh Uncle, still lying on the floor, and said, “Seventh Uncle, don’t sleep on the ground anymore. If you do this again, I won’t come to see you.”

Wang Qi hurriedly got up from the floor and looked at Wang Erlang longingly, “Seventh Lang, want meat, want meat...”

“No fresh meat today. I’ll bring some for you tomorrow, okay?” Wang Erlang smiled.

Wang Qi disappointedly put down his hand, pouted, and lay down on the bed.

The rain poured down in torrents, blurring the world in mist. The air was filled with the fresh scent of earth and flowers, raindrops splashing into small pits on the ground.

“Seventh Uncle, has he always lived here?” Wen Jing asked.

“Yes. Ever since I can remember, Seventh Uncle has lived here. He’s always been a little mad, thinking he’s still a child of seven or eight years old. He refuses to change clothes or take a bath. He says he only wears the clothes his mother made for him, and he won’t eat other food either. He only dares to eat rough steamed buns, afraid that my father will hit him,” Wang Erlang sighed.

Childhood trauma does indeed linger throughout one’s life, whether for a normal person like Wang Erlang, or someone like Wang Qi with mental illness. Wen Jing gazed out at the rain, her mood inevitably turning somber.

“If he could be treated early, maybe Seventh Uncle could become a normal person. Now, treatment is next to impossible,” Wen Jing said.

Wang Erlang chuckled bitterly, “How is Seventh Uncle not better this way? He can forget many unhappy things that normal people cannot. Seventh Uncle still believes his mother is alive. Actually, she passed away long ago. He can shape his memories into what he wants, but I cannot.”

“Carrying the past only closes one’s heart further. Letting go is the only way to move forward. Life is short—just a few decades. One should enjoy the moment, so as not to waste this journey on earth.”

Wang Erlang looked at Wen Jing in surprise. The phrase “enjoy the moment” ignited a warmth in his heart. For so many years, he had suppressed himself, never daring to cry, nor to laugh. No one had ever said such words to him. He had always seen himself as a sinner.

The rain gradually lessened.

“I’ll head back now,” Wen Jing said as she stood.

“I’ll see you off,” Wang Erlang also stood.

“Seventh Uncle, I’ll come visit you again,”

Wang Qi glanced at the two of them, snorted through his nose, and turned his head inward, no longer paying them any attention.

Wen Jing and Wang Erlang exchanged a look, both amused and helpless.

The hibiscus flower, dripping with raindrops, looked even more vibrant. Wang Erlang reached out and picked one, placing it in Wen Jing’s hair bun.

Wen Jing was not used to such intimate gestures from others but did not refuse; after all, it was only a flower.

“It’s beautiful,” Wang Erlang said, his eyes full of affection as he looked at Wen Jing.

“The flower is pretty,” Wen Jing smiled.

Wang Erlang blushed slightly, “You’re both beautiful.”

As they neared the gate, Wen Jing suddenly realized her hands were empty. She recalled the medicine box was still in Seventh Uncle’s room, and Wang Jue’s paintings were still in the alley.

“My medicine box is still with Seventh Uncle. I’ll go get it,” Wen Jing told Wang Erlang.

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“I’ll get it. You wait here,” Wang Erlang said and turned to walk back.

Wen Jing waited by the door. Soon, Wang Erlang returned, surprising her with his speed.

“I happened to run into Steward Wang. He was looking for you everywhere, wanting to return the box, so I took it along the way,” Wang Erlang said, panting and wiping sweat from his forehead.

Though something felt off, Wen Jing did not think much of it and took the medicine box.

...

Back at the Wen residence, Wen Jing saw a luxurious carriage parked outside and immediately thought, “The Prince of Xuan has come again...”

Upon entering the mansion, two rows of guards stood at the gate. Wen Jing was speechless—did every outing have to be as grand as a royal procession?

“Lady Qi, greetings to the Prince,” Wen Jing said, looking at the Prince of Xuan, wondering why he had come again. Last time, their conversation was cut off abruptly.

“You are truly busy, Lady Qi. I always have to wait for you,” the Prince of Xuan said, fanning himself with a folding fan.

Wen Jing thought bitterly, “Who asked you to wait for me? Every time you come without warning, whose fault is that?” She said aloud, “Lady Qi knows her mistake. I should have anticipated your arrival and waited at home early.”

The Prince of Xuan chuckled, not angry but amused by the sharp-tongued young lady. This was very much in line with Lady Wen’s character; a meek woman would be far less interesting.

Madam Wen watched quietly as Wen Jing and the Prince laughed and chatted, her displeasure growing. Indeed, the daughter Chu Zuo Lian bore was no ordinary girl. Compared to the famed Chu Lady Qi of the capital, she was surpassing her predecessor. How had she not noticed before? The melancholic, delicate Lady Wen she had raised seemed to have disappeared, replaced by this unfamiliar and formidable woman who made her feel uneasy and pressured.

“Prince, the food and wine are ready. Please take your seat,” Wen Qi Ran said.

The Prince glanced at Wen Qi Ran, “Minister Wen, are you trying to get me drunk again?”

“You flatter me, Your Highness. How could I dare?” Wen Qi Ran replied.

“Today, we won’t eat first. Allow me to have a few words with Lady Qi,” the Prince said, looking at Wen Jing.

Wen Jing followed, curious about the urgency behind the Prince’s visit.

“Master, this Prince of Xuan...” Madam Wen said anxiously.

“It’s nothing. Lady Qi is about to be married soon; she knows her limits,” Wen Qi Ran said calmly, then asked, “Is the dowry prepared?”

“Prepared long ago. Lady Qi is the legitimate daughter of the Wen family. No mistakes are allowed,” Madam Wen said solemnly, more nervous than Wen Qi Ran, her biological father.

Wen Qi Ran nodded.

In the study:

“Prince, you have sought Lady Qi twice. What is this about?” Wen Jing asked.

The Prince pondered briefly. “I have a request.”

A request... Wen Jing looked at the Prince in surprise. For him to use the word “request,” it must be something significant.

“Please speak, Your Highness,” Wen Jing said.

The Prince hesitated, then said, “I want you to help me examine a corpse.”

“Whose corpse?” Wen Jing asked directly.

The Prince’s expression faltered, showing hesitation—a rare sight on his usually arrogant face.

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“If it is inconvenient for Your Highness to say, then forget it. Lady Qi will just pretend the Prince never came,” Wen Jing smiled. It was clearly a very thorny matter. She didn’t want to get into trouble; the more she knew, the more dangerous it became.

“Consort Rong,” the Prince said gravely.

Wen Jing’s face changed. Consort Rong was the Prince’s biological mother. Could it be... Consort Rong’s death...

The Prince saw the shock on Wen Jing’s face and understood the weight of those three words. He didn’t press her, allowing her enough time to think.

After much contemplation, Wen Jing said, “Your Highness, I’m sorry. Lady Qi is unable to help.”

The sharp gaze of Lian Cheng behind the Prince flickered coldly as he glanced at Wen Jing, seemingly not expecting such a firm refusal.

Feeling that hostile look, Wen Jing glanced back faintly at the handsome face. Compared to the Prince, Lian Cheng was the truly ruthless one. If this weren’t the Wen residence, she might have lost her head by now.

The Prince remained silent for a long time, sighed, and left without a word.

Lian Cheng looked back at Wen Jing, his expression a subtle, inscrutable smile.

Wen Jing exhaled, her tense expression relaxing. Cold sweat had broken out on her back. That look from Lian Cheng was clearly a warning: be careful, or one day you might be silenced in your sleep.

But even if she hadn’t refused and helped examine Consort Rong’s corpse, how long could she have lived? Not only she, but perhaps the whole Wen family would be implicated. Involving palace secrets was dangerous either way. If she stayed out of it, there might still be a chance. She did not want to risk her life. She had barely been given a second chance at life and did not want to die so soon.

Wen Qi Ran watched the Prince’s darkened face, while Lian Cheng behind him remained expressionless, thinking, “What did Lady Qi say to anger the Prince so much?”

“Your Highness, please...” Madam Wen started to speak but saw the Prince sweep his sleeve and leave.

“What’s wrong with the Prince?” Wen Wu Niang murmured.

Wen Jing came out.

“Lady Qi, what did the Prince say to you?” Wen Qi Ran asked.

“Nothing much. The Prince just told me not to marry Wang Erlang,” Wen Jing said indifferently. Of course, she couldn’t tell them about the corpse examination request. She hadn’t come up with a better excuse and figured a lie was better than silence.

Wen Qi Ran’s face darkened slightly. This Prince of Xuan was truly reckless. Lady Qi was about to marry soon; how could he be so reckless?

“Father, no need to worry. The Prince looks displeased, but I’m afraid...” Wen Jing lowered her head.

“No matter, you will be married in a few days. Don’t go to the Dali Temple to serve these days. Stay home and prepare clothes and jewelry. After marrying into the Wang family, they won’t let you show yourself much. A woman’s duty is to stay home and manage the household,” Wen Qi Ran said.

“Yes, Father,” Wen Jing bowed and turned to her room.

Inside, Qing Liu looked at the thoughtful Wen Jing.

“Madam, have you come to terms with it?”

“Whether I do or not, the outcome is the same. We are but pawns on a chessboard, manipulated by others,” Wen Jing said.

“Madam, why so gloomy today? If the lady hears this, she wouldn’t rest peacefully in the afterlife,” Qing Liu said mournfully.

“I just remembered something!” Wen Jing suddenly said.

“What did you remember?” Qing Liu looked at her, puzzled by the sudden remark.

“Nothing. You wouldn’t understand even if I told you.” (To be continued...)