Chapter 59: C59. Rain-Kissed Bliss.

Chapter 59

Yunzhu had no intention of acting until she’d heard the palace gossip: her brother was getting ready to head out and deal with the bandits. Only then did she give the word to the steward to get the carriage ready, and she made her way back to Duke Ningguo’s mansion, her face a mask of impatience and unease.

Li Yao wasn’t home yet, but he was set to leave early the next morning. Meng shi and Gu Min were busy enough with his packing that they hardly noticed her arrival.

The moment Gu Min laid eyes on Yunzhu, she was quick to offer some empty comfort, “He’s just off to Fuzhou to handle the bandits. Don’t worry. With his skills, it’ll be a piece of cake for him.”

Yunzhu couldn’t forget the tearful scene when her brother-in-law left Beijing last time, so she braced herself for another round of emotion.

Seeing the slight downturn in Yunzhu’s expression, Gu Min hurried to add, “He’ll be fine. You’re acting like it’s the end of the world.”

Yunzhu raised an eyebrow, her voice laced with dry amusement, “Really? My sister-in-law didn’t shed a single tear, so am I the only one who feels a little more attached to my brother than you do?”

Gu Min shot her a sulky glare before quickly turning her face away, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

Meng shi, always ready to stir the pot, chuckled, “Oh, A Min, don’t let her get to you. Next time, when your brother-in-law heads off to battle, you’ll have your turn to tease her.”

Yunzhu smirked, her tone playful but sharp, “You’re always so biased. Does the daughter-in-law you chose care for you more than your own flesh and blood?”

Meng shi gave her daughter a light-hearted pinch on the ear, their laughter filling the room.

It was obvious that Yunzhu wasn’t about to get worked up like she did when Li Xian left for the last battle. After all, this was just routine for the family. Every other year, the old Duke of Guo would be off to war. It was just the nature of things. Everyone had gotten used to it by now, including Gu Min, who tried to look calm but was clearly unsettled on the inside.

Just before noon, Li Yao finally came back. The sight of his sister at home made him pause, and he waved the maids away to give them some privacy. “Has Cao Xun treated you well since the late emperor passed?” he asked, his brow furrowed. “Has he been causing you trouble because of the way the emperor treated our family?”

Yunzhu raised an eyebrow at him, asking, “Do you know that he suggested you go after the bandits right in front of the Emperor?”

Li Yao nodded. “Yes, when the Emperor issued the decree, Cao Xun and the rest of the ministers were there.”

Gu Min looked uneasy, but Yunzhu’s lips curved into a knowing smile. “Even though the Emperor’s young, he’s already got a few tricks up his sleeve.”

Gu Min turned to her husband, her voice dripping with subtle concern. “Duke Dingguo only made that suggestion for your own good. With your integrity and your long stay in the capital, the Emperor might make rash decisions. Going outside the capital to handle real work will keep things stable.”

Her daughter-in-law and daughter mulled over her words, though Meng shi remained silent, observing the subtle play of power in the room.

Li Yao looked at her, voice firm, "I don’t care how he treats me, as long as he doesn’t lay a finger on my sister."

Yunzhu hadn’t planned on crying, but her brother’s words had a way of making her eyes burn with tears. She was leaving Beijing, yet couldn’t shake the thought of her—her sister, who seemed to have everything handled.

The next morning, Yunzhu said her goodbyes to her brother and the family, getting ready to head out. Sending off an older brother felt different than sending off a younger one. Her younger brother wasn’t married, so her mother and sister were his closest ties. But the older brother? He was already taken. Gu Min, his wife, had plenty to say to him, and Yunzhu knew if she kept taking up his time, it’d speak volumes.

After all, what would it look like if a loving couple spent all their time with family instead of each other? The warmth and companionship between a couple would always eclipse anything between siblings, who, at the end of the day, had their own lives.

Meng shi, sharp as ever, could see her daughter’s thoughts, and without hesitation, nudged her son and daughter-in-law to retreat for some privacy, leaving her to handle the rest.

Back at their place, Li Yao fumed about Gu Shoufu, “He doesn’t outright say it, but it’s clear he doubts me and won’t admit it.”

Gu Min, calm as always, walked over to her husband on the bed and sat next to him. Her voice was low but pointed, “Grandfather arranged our marriage because he respects you. But if he were to praise you publicly, it might make people question our closeness, especially with the Emperor.”

Li Yao sighed, feeling the weight of the situation. “If I had known it would affect you, I never would’ve had my mother arrange this marriage.”

Gu Min looked at him, her gaze soft but searching, “Do you regret marrying me?”

Before he could answer, she didn’t need to speak to make her pain clear. Tears welled up in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks before she could even stop them, leaving her looking heartbroken and vulnerable.

Li Yao, a man who’d never seen a grown woman cry, was struck by the sight. His sister might have cried as a child, but no one dared provoke her now, and she’d learned not to let anything move her to tears. But Gu Min... this was different.

His hands moved without thinking, gently wiping away her tears, voice tinged with desperation, “I don’t regret it. I just don’t want to hurt you. The Emperor is petty, and I’m worried that one day, all this family drama might end up hurting someone innocent.”

Gu Min straightened up, wiping her face with determination, “You’re only seeing what my grandfather saw when he agreed to this marriage. He was proud to have you as his grandson-in-law. What is there to fear?”

Li Yao, a little overwhelmed, defended himself, “I’m just trying to protect you. What do you always say about me?”

She looked at him with intensity, her words sharp, “I said that if a couple can only share the good and never the bad, then what kind of couple are they?”

Li Yao fell silent, the weight of her words settling in.

Although his wife was small and often whined about not being able to handle the long nights, she had a way with words that could make any man listen. It was no surprise, really, considering she was the old man’s granddaughter.

Gu Min curled her arm around his strong one and said, “Don’t stress about the capital. Are you sure about the bandit situation? It’s been going on in Fuzhou for far too long. The locals haven’t been able to put an end to it, and I’m starting to think it’s not just your average bandits.”

Li Yao let out a dismissive snort, “The more complicated, the better. Ordinary criminals don’t scare me.”

Gu Min smirked. “Well, you’ll have no trouble taking them down on your own. But remember, dealing with bandits isn’t just about strength. It’s about tactics and strategy, like leading an army.”

Li Yao’s brow furrowed as he cut her off. “Do you seriously think I’m lacking in strength or brains?”

His voice was dark, dangerous. Anyone else would’ve been struck silent, but his tiny wife, still holding onto his arm, blinked her big eyes and nodded. “Seems like you might be.”

Li Yao was stunned, momentarily speechless.

Then Gu Min slipped out from under his arm and stood in front of him. She was small, but now, with her eyes locked onto his, she looked downright commanding. Her voice dropped to a whisper as she leaned in. “You know the Emperor doesn’t like you. So, when you get to Fuzhou, even if you wipe out those bandits, you’ll need to make it look like you’re failing—twice, preferably once a month. Draw it out, but don’t make it too obvious. You want the Emperor to think the person who sent you is testing your limits, not just letting you rack up victories.”

Li Yao couldn’t speak.

Gu Min wasn’t done. “And the Fuzhou Guard? They answer to their commander. You’ll need to judge him carefully. If he’s a good guy but doesn’t have the skills, buddy up with him, work together. But if he’s stubborn and worried you’ll outshine him, take control. Command the guard yourself. Keep him in his place so he doesn’t sabotage your efforts to crush the bandits.”

Her words hung in the air, charged, as if she’d just handed him the key to unlock a new kind of power.

Li Yao's expression shifted from surprise to intense focus as he listened to her every word.

Gu Min spoke for what seemed like ages, detailing everything she knew. If only she had a map of the terrain where the Fuzhou bandits were hiding, she could've helped him plan a strategy to crush them.

As she finished, Li Yao grabbed her effortlessly, lifting her high in the air, a grin spreading across his face. “I didn’t just marry a wife,” he laughed, “I clearly married a fierce military advisor!”

Her cheeks flushed with heat, a mixture of surprise and irritation flashing through her as she smacked him playfully on the shoulder. “Put me down!” she demanded, her voice laced with mock authority.

He chuckled, lowering her gently to the bed. His eyes, intense with desire, raked over her, and he loosened his belt with slow, deliberate movements. “I leave at dawn,” he said, his voice thick with intent. “I trust you’ll keep yourself busy and not cry over me.”

Gu Min stayed silent, her mind racing, but all she could think was, "If you want to do this, just do it. No need to make a speech about it."

*

At dawn the next morning, Li Yao swung up onto his horse and rode off with smooth confidence, leaving his reluctant mother, tearful wife, and quiet sister behind. Outside the city gates, a regiment of a hundred soldiers and their horses awaited him, their presence bold and commanding under the early morning sky.

He left with the ease of a man who knew exactly where he was headed—his demeanor unbothered, his smile sharp and daring.

Gu Min stood frozen at the gates, her gaze trailing after her brazen husband until his figure was nothing but a ghostly flicker in the distance. Only then did she turn, her shoulders shaking as she collapsed into Yunzhu's waiting arms, sobbing without restraint.

Yunzhu, calm as ever, held her close and quietly guided her back to her chambers.

By then, Gu Min’s tears had subsided, but her reddened eyes betrayed a sorrow that pulled at the heart. She looked delicate and vulnerable, yet a quiet fire flickered behind her misery.

Yunzhu tilted her head with a touch of curiosity, her voice edged with surprise. "Why are you so utterly shattered over parting with my brother? It’s been what—three months since you married him?"

To be fair, Yunzhu didn’t blame her sister-in-law. It wasn’t that Gu Min disliked her husband—far from it. But Yunzhu knew her brother well, and let’s just say he wasn’t exactly the kind of man a woman would pine for like some tragic heroine. A bold hero, yes; a tender lover to melt a woman’s heart? Hardly.

Still clutching her embroidered handkerchief, Gu Min responded with a petulant pout, her voice low and sultry, “You wouldn’t understand because you don’t see him every day like I do. The heart, Yunzhu—it’s so terribly soft. He’s good to me, you know? He holds me at night, he speaks to me so gently. How could I not fall for him? Now, who knows when he’ll return, and the thought of sleeping alone makes me ache. Unlike you—you’re hardened by distance. But if it were your husband disappearing beyond the city gates, don’t pretend you wouldn’t cry harder than I am now.”

Yunzhu narrowed her eyes thoughtfully, unable to picture herself falling into such sentimentality. She wasn’t Gu Min—she simply wasn’t wired for that kind of desperation.

The day passed quietly. After sharing lunch at home, Yunzhu returned to the towering halls of the Duke Dingguo’s residence.

By late afternoon, she reclined in her private study, quill in hand, and wrote a letter to her younger brother. The message was simple but clear: their elder brother had set off for Fuzhou to deal with the bandit uprising.

Once the ink dried, Yunzhu placed the letter aside and turned her gaze to the window, where the horizon was now draped in heavy, ominous clouds. Moments later, the rain began to fall—thick, insistent drops hammering against the earth with a relentless rhythm.

Yunzhu’s first thought drifted, unbidden, to her brother. Was he caught in this same downpour? Was there shelter where he was, or would the rain soak through his clothing, sending chills into his very bones?

And then, just as swiftly, her mind flickered to Cao Xun. He was a man of habit, always riding back from the Governor’s Mansion as the day drew to a close. A cloak or an umbrella could never save him fully from a deluge like this.

With a steady voice and a spark of something unspoken, Yunzhu instructed her maid, “Send a carriage to the Governor’s Mansion. Have it wait for your master.”

Lian Qiao, ever observant, smiled slyly and quipped, “Madam, you’re far too thoughtful.”

Yunzhu shot her a sharp, cutting look that silenced any further teasing.

At the Governor’s Mansion, the rain had dimmed the light so thoroughly that lamps had to be lit early, their flames flickering feebly against the gloom.

Cao Xun sat behind his desk, drowning in an avalanche of official documents that consumed both his attention and his time. Hours slipped away unnoticed until a subordinate respectfully nudged him back to the present, reminding him of the hour.

With a glance at Luo Ke, Cao Xun straightened, gathered himself, and left the room. Outside, Chang and A Jiu were already waiting, raincoats in hand.

Without missing a beat, the master and servant donned their coats and stepped into the roaring downpour. The rain hit hard, cold and unrelenting, but Cao Xun moved through it with purpose, a man unbothered by storms—external or otherwise.

As Cao Xun neared the Governor’s Mansion, his sharp eyes quickly picked out his coachman waiting by the carriage.

He stopped, taking in the scene for a beat.

The coachman stood close to the carriage, umbrella in hand, his voice polite yet earnest as he announced, “The rain’s coming down hard, sir. Madam sent me to fetch you—best get inside before you’re soaked.”

A slow, knowing smile played across Cao Xun’s lips as he stepped forward. Under the coachman’s umbrella, he shrugged off his heavy, dripping raincoat with casual ease and ducked into the carriage without further ado.

The coachman wasted no time joining him, settling in across from his master, while Ah Jiu took up the reins and guided the horse forward.

The rain drummed steadily on the carriage roof, a hypnotic rhythm that made time stretch just a little longer. Eventually, Ah Jiu glanced back and couldn’t help but notice Cao Xun pulling aside the bamboo curtain, his gaze lingering lazily on the rain-washed world outside—a serene, almost indulgent calm softening his features.

Grinning slyly, Ah Jiu teased, “You’ve never been this laid back about getting married, my lord. Look at you now—no wife to fuss over you, so you’re stuck riding horses with the likes of me.”

Cao Xun’s faint smile carried just enough edge to cut through the banter. “Rain’s no stranger to the borderlands, and I’ve ridden through worse. A little water never hurt anyone.”

Ah Jiu’s laughter bubbled up, unabashed and teasing. “I’ve seen you on horseback in storms plenty of times, but I’ve never seen you look this content. A man like you smiling in the rain? Now that’s something new.”

Cao Xun let the words slide past him like water off a roof. His gaze swept outward once more, lingering where the rain had kissed the willows clean, their leaves glowing a lush, vivid green against the deepening gray. Beyond them, rows of slate-tiled walls rose tall and tidy, muted yet refined, their order echoing the steady beat of the downpour.

Dusk was creeping in—soft and slow—wrapping the city in cool shadows. The streets were thinning as people hurried home, drawn like moths to the warmth of familiar hearths. It was the kind of evening that clung to the skin, sultry and thick, whispering secrets to those who bothered to listen.