Chapter 47: C47. A Loved One.

Chapter 47

The wedding of Prince An and Xie Wenying was set for the sixth day of the twelfth lunar month—a union poised to make waves. By the following year, Prince An was destined to move to his vassal state in Shandong, where their marriage would unfold in the palace, a grand affair by design.

Invitations extended far and wide, even reaching the Dukes of Dingguo and Ningguo, who were summoned to a lavish banquet. That evening, Yunzhu, Prince An’s sharp-eyed aunt, attended the gathering with Xie Wenying by her side, flanked by Pan Shi, along with the Prince’s biological mother’s grandmother and aunt.

Xie Wenying was an arresting vision that night, draped in opulent fabrics that framed her as more than just a bride—she looked every inch the princess she was about to become. Her beauty didn’t just glow; it commanded attention.

Yunzhu, ever the strategist, found herself both delighted and relieved by Xie Wenying’s match. She celebrated the fact that Xie Wenying would soon leave for Shandong. Had she stayed in the capital, the noblewomen—raised side by side as peers—would have been forced to bow to her every time they crossed paths. That dynamic would have chafed at Yunzhu’s pride, a thorn she was glad to avoid.

The evening was orchestrated to flow effortlessly. With Pan Shi and another elder to keep things steady, Yunzhu indulged in the luxury of simply observing. She couldn’t help but admire Pan’s polished facade. Despite being the one who had once pushed for Xie Wenying to marry her own son, Pan now wore a smile so warm and authentic it almost erased the history.

Pan Shi, however, had to feel the awkwardness simmering beneath the surface. After all, at just over forty, she was a grandmother forced to attend this glittering display of a wedding that wasn’t hers to claim. Yet, she played her part, her demeanor flawless.

Xie Wenying, for her part, radiated poise. Every step, every glance, spoke of a quiet confidence that no one could ignore. The female guests refrained from drinking and breezed through the banquet, knowing the bride had duties to attend to.

As the evening wound down and the guests departed, Yunzhu cast a glance over her shoulder. She caught Xie Wenying’s eyes, and for a fleeting moment, their gazes locked.

There’s an unspoken understanding between women who have loved the same man—an awareness that cuts straight to the bone. Once, Yunzhu had claimed Cao Xun, fulfilling her own desires. Xie Wenying, to her credit, had taken it in stride, showing no bitterness or sorrow. She had moved on with dignity, never giving Yunzhu the satisfaction of visible pain.

Yet, tonight, something lingered in the air between them. Yunzhu, the woman who had come first, offered a soft, knowing smile. It was a gesture of peace, a silent blessing for Xie Wenying’s future with Prince An.

Xie Wenying, sensing the honesty in that smile, returned it. She would carry herself as a princess should—with pride, grace, and determination to live up to her title.

*

The banquet at Prince An's court dragged on, leaving Yunzhu and Pan Shi to retreat to Empress Cao's chambers to wait.

Empress Cao, sharp-eyed and regal, knew her mother's dissatisfaction simmered beneath the surface, but tonight wasn't the time for tender words. Though she opposed Prince An's union with the Xie family, her hands were tied—trapped by the emperor’s whims and his maddening smile.

“Madam, the banquet at the prince’s side has concluded,” a eunuch intoned with a bow, his voice measured and obedient.

The womenfolk gathered, graceful as ripples on still water. One by one, they curtsied to Empress Cao before slipping away, paired off and chattering softly.

Yunzhu and Pan Shi were among the first to leave. Under the cold sweep of moonlight, the two women reached the imperial city gates, where Cao Xun and Cao Shao awaited them. Behind the brothers, the sturdy carriages of the Dingguo Palace stood, their lacquered wood gleaming faintly.

Cao Xun approached, his movements smooth, almost predatory, and offered his hand to Yunzhu. Without hesitation, he helped her into the carriage before swinging onto his horse with effortless grace, heading toward his brother.

The frosty air cut sharply as Cao Shao nudged his mount closer. “Elder brother, you should ride with sister-in-law. Keep her warm in this cold.”

Cao Xun’s lips curved into a teasing smile, his words a low rumble. “You stink of wine. Let the wind sober you.”

Cao Shao, grinning but silenced, let the matter drop.

By the time they arrived at Duke Dingguo’s mansion, Yunzhu was running on fumes. The day’s endless niceties had drained her, her body aching for respite. She watched Cao Xun dismount, his presence magnetic, waiting by her carriage with a patience that bordered on indulgence.

Her voice itched to call out, to demand he carry her inside, but she bit her tongue. Cao Shao’s prying eyes weren’t worth the trouble. So, when Cao Xun extended his hand, she sighed and reluctantly descended, her movements deliberate, her touch lingering on his arm.

The four entered the sprawling gates of the Cao Mansion. Cao Shao, ever the charming younger brother, guided Pan Shi toward the west courtyard, leaving Yunzhu and Cao Xun to slip into the inky shadows of the night.

Once the others disappeared, Yunzhu's restraint unraveled. She sank into Cao Xun’s arms, her words a low, sultry plea. “I’m too tired to walk. Carry me.”

Under the faint glow of sputtering lanterns, Yunzhu’s boldness shone brighter. Servants' eyes or wagging tongues didn’t matter. She knew her place, knew his devotion, and the way his arms circled her, firm and unyielding, made her heart race.

The faint shuffle of retreating footsteps faded, leaving only the sound of their breathing. Cao Xun held her closer, her warmth soaking into him, her scent intoxicating. He walked with purpose, each step sealing the world outside.

Yunzhu’s lips curved into a soft smile as she buried herself in the curve of his shoulder, her voice fading into the night.

In the sanctuary of their chambers, they freshened up in silence, the air between them heavy with unspoken connection. Yunzhu slid into bed, her body seeking his warmth, her voice teasing but tired. “Don’t even think about bothering me tonight. I need to sleep.”

Cao Xun’s lips brushed her temple, his fingers entwining with hers as he whispered, “Rest easy.”

He held her close, his embrace a quiet promise as the night wrapped them in its velvety cocoon.

*

The next morning, before Cao Xun had even risen from bed, he leaned in and kissed Yunzhu awake, his lips brushing against hers with an intimacy that left no room for dreams.

Half-asleep and annoyed, she muttered, “Not enough sleep yet…” and tried to bury herself deeper into the sheets.

Undeterred, he slid his arms around her, pulling her close from behind, his voice low and teasing. “I need to talk to you about something.”

Reluctantly, Yunzhu cracked open her eyes, curiosity pulling her from the haze of sleep. “What’s so urgent?”

Cao Xun's tone turned serious, a rare glint of sincerity flashing in his eyes. “Xing Jian told me today’s the expected delivery date for his wife. Her family’s far away, and I was wondering if you’d be willing to visit after breakfast.”

Surprised, she blinked at him. “You remember things like that?”

He nodded, his gaze steady. “Xing Jian and I are brothers.”

That unwavering seriousness was new to Yunzhu. It was a glimpse into the raw bond between the two men—something far deeper than the performative honor often demanded of men like Cao Shao. Cao Xun’s concern wasn’t just about appearances; it was about true loyalty, the kind that couldn’t be faked.

“I see,” she said after a pause. “I’ll go.”

His hand drifted up to her hair, his touch soft, almost reverent, before he rose from the bed.

Though it was his suggestion, Yunzhu didn’t mind. She respected Zhang Xingjian and Liu Jing, and a visit felt more like a favor to herself than a chore. After getting ready and preparing gifts, she stepped into the carriage and set off.

The journey took an unexpected twist when their path crossed with the carriage of Gu Qinghe’s wife, Zhao Shi. Clearly, the other couple had also remembered the delivery.

Exchanging pleasantries inside the moving carriage was impractical, but when they arrived at the grand gates of the Huai’an Marquis Mansion, Zhao Shi greeted her with a sly smile.

“Since the Duke married you, we’re equals,” Zhao Shi began, her tone light but pointed. “But now that A Min is betrothed to your brother, it seems the hierarchy between us has been restored.”

Yunzhu met her gaze with a polite but equally sharp smile. “Should I start calling you ‘aunt,’ then?”

Zhao Shi chuckled. “Within your family, yes. But here? Sister sounds so much more harmonious.”

With that, they entered the mansion together, arms linked in an uneasy show of solidarity.

Inside, preparations were already underway. The doctor’s predictions had been spot-on, and Liu Jing’s labor was progressing steadily. The delivery room was bustling with activity—maids rushing, the midwife and doctor already in position.

Zhang Xingjian greeted them warmly when they arrived in the backyard, his expression a mix of nerves and gratitude. Zhao Shi, ever the practical one, shed her cloak, washed her hands, and stepped into the delivery room without hesitation.

Before disappearing inside, she glanced back at Yunzhu. “You haven’t been through this before. Maybe wait outside—or better yet, head home. These things can take hours.”

But Yunzhu wasn’t about to leave. Knowing how much Cao Xun valued Liu Jing, staying felt like the right thing to do.

“I’ll wait just outside the room,” she said calmly.

Zhao Shi gave a quick nod and vanished through the doors.

As Yunzhu turned, she noticed Zhang Xingjian standing quietly behind her, his demeanor warm but slightly concerned.

“You’re thoughtful to come and support A Jing,” he said with a gentle smile. “But childbirth can be… intense. The sounds might be unsettling for someone as young as you. Perhaps it’s best to wait in the pavilion out front.”

Yunzhu wasn’t entirely sure what to expect from the process, but she knew better than to linger awkwardly by his side.

“Understood,” she replied smoothly. “Let me know when there’s good news.”

With that, she stepped away, leaving Zhang Xingjian to his anxious pacing as she retreated to the calm of the front pavilion.

*

Soon after, Yunzhu led Lian Qiao to the Pavilion, where an unexpected gesture awaited—a delivery of books, sent by none other than Zhang Xingjian through his maid. The thoughtfulness struck her, stirring admiration for the ever-considerate Commander Hou Ye. The moment reminded her of the mischievous story Cao Xun had shared, where a young Zhang Xingjian, undeterred by punishment, climbed over walls to smuggle roasted chicken to Gu Qinghe. A smile teased her lips at the memory, bridging the past and present.

Perhaps now, in their thirties, these men—Zhang, Gu, and Cao—were not far removed from their youthful, reckless charm, their camaraderie still potent, their bonds unshaken.

Yunzhu lingered in the warm embrace of the Nuan Pavilion, passing the time between reading and wandering in quiet thought. Yet, her tranquility faltered in the afternoon when her stroll led her to a jarring sight—a maid emerging with a basin stained red with blood. She barely paused, her heart tightening, before slipping away unnoticed by Zhang Xingjian.

That fleeting moment lingered in her mind, a vivid, unsettling imprint that left her trembling and distracted, unable to focus on her books. Hours stretched on until darkness descended, and at last, news broke: Liu Jing had given birth to a healthy six-pound girl. Mother and child were safe. Relief washed over the household.

Zhao Shi unwrapped the newborn, presenting her to Zhang Xingjian. He masked his emotions with a cough, but his eyes betrayed him, softening as they traced every delicate feature of his daughter. Yunzhu watched, transfixed, as tenderness suffused his gaze, a look that spoke of a father’s love—a look she imagined her own parents once bestowed on her.

Awkward but moved, Yunzhu cradled her newborn niece briefly. Zhang Xingjian’s voice carried weight as he spoke: "My sister-in-law and younger siblings have done so much today. I’ve arranged for the kitchen to prepare a meal. Someone’s gone to the government office to inform Qinghe and the others. They’ll join us for dinner."

As twilight deepened, Cao Xun and Gu Qinghe arrived, slipping into the warmth of the house. They made their way to the backyard, cooing over the children. Yunzhu stood back, observing as Gu Qinghe deftly held the baby, while Cao Xun’s measured composure belied the stiffness in his hands. The sight tugged at something within her—a quiet yearning, perhaps a trace of longing.

With Liu Jing resting, Zhang Xingjian rejoined his friends. The air hummed with lightheartedness. Gu Qinghe and Zhang Xingjian, now proud fathers to both sons and daughters, teased the recently married Cao Xun. Amid their laughter, Yunzhu couldn’t help but blush, their camaraderie brushing against her thoughts like an intimate whisper.

Dinner passed in a swirl of warmth and shared company. As the evening waned and the others departed, Cao Xun lingered to escort Yunzhu to the carriage. His hands found her shoulders, his touch firm yet soothing. “You’ve been on your feet all day,” he murmured, voice laced with concern.

Yunzhu leaned into his strength, sighing softly. “Why should I be tired? It’s Sister Liu who bore the brunt of it. I saw the blood the maid carried out.” Her voice wavered, her body betraying a slight tremor.

Cao Xun drew her closer, his arms tightening protectively. “I told you to stay at the front,” he chided gently, his tone holding a touch of helplessness. “Why did you go to the back? Were you frightened?”

She nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. “A little.”

After a pause, her thoughts spilled forth. “Last time, I said Sister Liu was pitiful, and you scolded me for it. But now, seeing what she went through—how much pain she endured just to bring a child into this world—I can’t help but think of how much more she’ll have to bear on her own…”

Her words trailed off, swallowed by the night, leaving only a quiet ache in their wake.

This time, Cao Xun wasn’t driven by reckless passion like that fateful night. His hand moved slowly, deliberately, grazing her head with a touch that lingered. “To the world, she might seem pitiful,” he murmured, voice low and steady, “but have you ever stopped to see it from her eyes? She doesn’t expect to live out her days as some broken widow. No, she’ll endure the pain, raise their child, and find comfort in her memories of Xing Jian—grateful for the life they shared and the gift he left behind.”

Yunzhu looked up, her wide eyes shimmering with uncertainty.

Cao Xun leaned in, his voice dropping to a velvety murmur. “They were bound by something real. Even without Xing Jian, his wife won’t wallow in self-pity. She’ll miss him, yes, but that love will hold her upright, not drag her down.”

The words sunk deep, and Yunzhu hesitated, a shadow of doubt flitting across her delicate features. “So you’re saying Sister Liu… truly loves the Marquis?”

Cao Xun’s finger brushed her cheek, dabbing at the faint traces of emotion that escaped her composure. His response was maddeningly cryptic, a quiet tease wrapped in wisdom. “A woman’s heart always whispers its truth… if you know where to listen.”

His mind wandered, unbidden, to those days on the border. Memories sharpened into vivid clarity: Liu Jing sewing every stitch of Xing Jian’s clothes with tender care, his eyes alight with pride when he wore them. Now, every glance she sent his way carried a painful sweetness, every cough of his striking her harder than it ever could him.

Cao Xun turned back to Yunzhu, his lips curling into something between a smirk and a dare. “Just watch. You’ll see.”

Yunzhu’s lips curved into a playful, almost defiant smile. “My, oh my, Cao Xun, you’ve got a wicked knack for digging out the secrets people guard closest to their hearts.”

His fingers found her chin, lifting it so her gaze couldn’t waver. His eyes, sharp and knowing, pinned her in place. “Knowledge is power, little one.”

Her grin faltered, a ripple of unease rolling through her. What game was he playing?

And why did it feel like she was the one caught in it?