11 Rival in Love

He Zhi Yu and Meng Yun Shao rode together back to the mansion, accompanied by Su Yue and Zhu An. After the intense argument earlier, everyone was lost in their own thoughts, the atmosphere heavy with silence.

Meng Yun Shao knew she ought to say something to lighten the mood, as she usually would—with gentle smiles and soft words—but now, she found it impossible to feign such composure. She couldn't understand why she was forced to return only to endure humiliation. Though grateful to He Zhi Yu for rescuing her, if not for her mother-in-law insisting she come back, none of this trouble would have arisen.

Her nature was calm and reserved; she disliked disputes. Even if she had won the argument, the relationship with the Meng family would only become more strained. If she ignored them, it would be unfilial; if she showed affection, she'd only attract resentment.

Meng Yun Shu had even mentioned Jiang Shi Zhou, the second son of the Jiang family and her former fiancé, in He Zhi Yu’s presence. Bringing this up would hardly bring peace.

She wasn’t worried about He Zhi Yu’s thoughts—he was cold and noble, always looking down from above, unlikely to care for any Jiang or Wang. He had never shown interest in Meng Yun Shao’s past nor asked about it.

Yet, if Gongsun Yan, the eldest son's wife who oversaw the household affairs, or the third concubine Liu Yuan Yuan, known for stirring trouble, caught wind of this, things would be different.

Her mind tangled with countless worries. Suddenly, she looked up and met He Zhi Yu’s clear, bright eyes, like a serene autumn lake. Seemingly indifferent, he turned his face away.

Meng Yun Shao found herself inexplicably drawn to his composed and tranquil expression. Her heart steadied, like a courtyard dusted with snow on a gloomy afternoon.

She thought, why bother with all this? She might as well set everything aside and focus on the present.

After all, she would leave one day.

She would sever ties with both families and live her own life—a truly free life—without watching anyone’s face or tiptoeing around anyone, simply happy and carefree.

And if that day came, even if not far apart, they might never see each other again.

He had protected her in her darkest moments—then and now. Whether for reputation or propriety, she accepted it.

A husband and wife, perhaps, in the end, wouldn’t even have a proper farewell. So it was worth stealing a few more glances now.

With this thought, Meng Yun Shao returned to her usual gentle demeanor. A soft breeze seemed to stir within the enclosed carriage, the atmosphere quietly shifting.

She smiled and asked, “The heir never comes, so why did you come today?”

He Zhi Yu replied, “There’s nothing to do during the break. Mother asked me to check in.”

Exactly the answer she expected. What was she hoping for?

Meng Yun Shao politely said, “It’s a trivial matter; I’ve taken up your time.”

He Zhi Yu replied courteously, “It’s nothing.”

Zhu An beside them wore an expression that spoke volumes.

How was their master always such a stubborn, taciturn man with a mouth harder than the city walls of Bianjing?

He had been restless ever since he heard that the young madam was coming. He sent someone to decline General Lei’s visit, searched for the young madam at Qing Li Courtyard, and only came out after several arguments with the marquise, who said, “You don’t have to go,” and the claim that “it’s not reasonable,” still insisting on saying, “There’s nothing to do.”

If Zhu An hadn’t seen He Zhi Yu’s icy, determined face when he crushed the rebels three years ago, he might never have connected this restrained, proper master with the wild, fearless young general rumored outside.

Zhu An tried to explain, “Actually, there was something going on today…”

He Zhi Yu shot him a cold glance, silencing him.

Fine, he thought, respect everyone’s fate.

Meng Yun Shao asked again, “From what I gather, your sister came looking for you before, but you never mentioned it. Why?”

He Zhi Yu was reluctant to say more: “It’s a trivial matter.”

Perhaps feeling more at ease outside the Marquis’s mansion, Meng Yun Shao smiled teasingly, “But she doesn’t seem one to give up easily. She must have come to see you many times, right? Yet you say it’s a trivial matter. Do you deal with such things every day?”

He Zhi Yu frowned slightly. “Don’t speak recklessly.”

Zhu An was left speechless again.

How was that reckless? Today, the cousin-in-law tried to push the second young lady in as a concubine; tomorrow, a woman from the noble Consort’s family from the Yan clan sent a visiting card; the day after, Meng Yun Shu, who couldn’t even establish a proper relationship, waited at the public office gate with soup, clothes, and letters. He Zhi Yu ignored them all without so much as a word: “I have my wife, that is enough.”

If Zhu An hadn’t grown up alongside He Zhi Yu and followed him daily, he wouldn’t have seen the feelings his master harbored for the young madam.

Trying to defend his master once more, Zhu An mustered courage: “Well, you could say that those who line up at the public office gate every day…”

He Zhi Yu interrupted sharply, “Why are you talking so much today?”

Zhu An gave up.

Fine, he would continue respecting everyone’s fate.

Upon arriving at the Marquis’s mansion and stepping down, He Zhi Yu said, “I have business to attend to. You may go on ahead.”

Meng Yun Shao gave a graceful nod and said, “If not for you today, I fear I would have been bullied. Thank you.”

He Zhi Yu replied simply, “You’re welcome.”

Once Meng Yun Shao had gone down the path and disappeared from sight, Zhu An quietly said to He Zhi Yu, “Master, I’ll look into who that second son of the Jiang family really is.”

He Zhi Yu glanced at him coldly. “Why bother?”

Zhu An was surprised. “Aren’t you curious? He was once betrothed to the young madam!”

He Zhi Yu said, “Wasn’t I once betrothed to someone else?”

Zhu An was speechless. “That’s not the same… Those betrothals are often childhood sweethearts…”

He Zhi Yu cut him off. “What childhood sweethearts? That just means knowing each other earlier. Anyone who has studied a bit would know some people. I knew her elder sister long ago—just a nod of acquaintance.”

Zhu An chuckled at his master’s rare verbosity. “So you really don’t want to find out?”

He Zhi Yu paused briefly, then said calmly, “She told me herself.”

Zhu An suddenly understood. “So that’s how it is! I was worrying about the couple’s past when they had already been open and honest with each other! What a needless fuss.”

He Zhi Yu’s lips curled slightly, a soft expression crossing his face, though he said nothing.

He thought: yes, she had already confessed—her heart belonged only to me.

So today, she needn’t explain anything.

As for that second son of the Jiang family, he knew who he was:

Jiang Shi Zhou, the newly crowned top scholar.

The Jiang family was a lineage of scholars. Jiang Shi Zhou’s grandfather once served as Chief Minister. His father, Jiang Wu Hui, devoted himself to study and avoided official posts, yet maintained extensive connections. Jiang Wu Hui was a renowned Confucian scholar, highly respected by the public. Even the emperor and empress dowager treated him with great reverence, often inviting him to lecture ministers on governance.

Among his children, the most outstanding was the second son, Jiang Shi Zhou, who often accompanied his father in lectures. He was gentle and courteous, radiating warmth like the morning sun, well-versed in both history and contemporary affairs, and possessed remarkable insight.

He Zhi Yu had attended several of his lectures and recognized his genuine talent.

It was said that Jiang Shi Zhou was appointed as Jiang Wu Hui’s heir, tasked with carrying on the family legacy away from politics. Yet, for some unknown reason, he suddenly changed course and entered the imperial examinations.

Generally, such scholarly families discouraged their heirs from taking the exams. Failure would bring disgrace to the entire clan. Especially for someone like Jiang Shi Zhou, the center of attention, many secretly wished for his downfall and embarrassment.

But Jiang Shi Zhou surged ahead, winning first place in the imperial exam held after the new emperor’s accession last year. Within a year of joining the Hanlin Academy, he earned the emperor’s favor and was promoted directly to the Grand Secretariat, becoming a highly sought-after figure at court.

Unlike He Zhi Yu’s cold demeanor, Jiang Shi Zhou was approachable and understanding. Whoever interacted with him felt cared for, as if bathed in the gentle spring breeze.

In just a year at court, many ministers befriended him. His political proposals often garnered wide support—no small feat in a faction-ridden, turbulent court.

Frankly, He Zhi Yu thought Jiang Shi Zhou’s temperament resembled Meng Yun Shao’s: considerate to all, offending none, always wearing a smile as if born with it.

Once, He Zhi Yu passed him on the palace path and caught the scent of orchid and pine on Jiang Shi Zhou—the same fragrance he had once noticed on Meng Yun Shao. She had said she concocted it herself out of boredom. He Zhi Yu thought the scent ill-suited for a woman but never inquired further.

When he asked Jiang Shi Zhou where he obtained it, the latter’s eyes, usually smiling, suddenly flashed with a sharp edge and said it was a gift from a cherished person.

He Zhi Yu, who disliked incense, requested some from Meng Yun Shao upon returning home, declaring he liked it very much and would burn it on his clothes daily. Being a man of distinct tastes, he instructed her not to give it to anyone else.

Though unaware of the full story, Meng Yun Shao complied and promised to produce as much as needed for He Zhi Yu, ensuring there would be no shortage year after year.

He Zhi Yu was pleased.

He regarded this as an unspoken promise from Meng Yun Shao of their lifelong bond.

Just as when he had allowed her to manage the monthly household affairs, recognizing her as the mistress of the house—both tacit agreements between them.

The next day, after court, He Zhi Yu waited by the palace gate for a long time before Jiang Shi Zhou appeared.

He told Jiang Shi Zhou that he also liked the fragrance and planned to use it daily, monthly, yearly.

Moreover, the maker had promised an unlimited supply, exclusive to him, and that the bottle Jiang Shi Zhou held would eventually run out.

If Jiang Shi Zhou didn’t mind, He Zhi Yu was willing to buy it at a high price or exchange it for a rare Persian incense.

No one had ever seen the gentle Jiang Shi Zhou so angry.

Since then, whenever they met, they either ignored each other disdainfully or pretended not to see.

That warm, sunny smile Jiang Shi Zhou always wore instantly changed the weather when he met He Zhi Yu—sometimes cloudy, sometimes rainy.

He Zhi Yu felt Jiang Shi Zhou was not as courteous as people said.