Chapter 99: The Long Road to Winning Her Back

"That wretched boy!"

Marquis Wei nearly smashed the solid octagonal table before him. No wonder Xie Zheng disapproved of his third son—the wayward son had hurt his sister. Recalling how fervently he had pushed for the marriage alliance between the two families, even vowing to treat the young lady of the Xie family as his own daughter, Marquis Wei’s face burned with shame.

"This is all your doing!"

Madam Wei looked chastened. "We didn’t know her background. Otherwise, we wouldn’t have looked down on her."

"Exactly, Father. You were the first to oppose her before," Wei Jin added timidly.

When Wei Xun had proposed marrying A Yuan, Marquis Wei had been the first to object.

"Hold your tongue!"

Marquis Wei, embarrassed and angry, barked, "I hadn’t met her then. If I had, I wouldn’t have been so hasty."

He had instinctively assumed A Yuan was some scheming seductress, but now that he knew she was Xie Zheng’s sister, his perspective changed completely.

"Miss Xie has suffered enough hardship. Instead of cherishing her, you made things difficult for her at every turn, forcing her to suffer needlessly. Tell me, how am I supposed to face Yan Sheng now?"

"Well... should we send someone to the Xie family to propose marriage? Bring her in with a proper bridal procession?"

Madam Wei ventured cautiously, though she felt uneasy inside.

The mistress of the marquis’ household ought to be dignified, composed, and capable of managing affairs and social engagements—not someone like A Yuan, fragile and unfit for formal settings, who would stage her death and run away at the slightest grievance. Moreover, Wei Xun had repeatedly crossed her for A Yuan’s sake, making Madam Wei dislike her even more.

Her thoughts were plain on her face. Marquis Wei snorted derisively. "Do you really think they’re the ones begging to marry into our family this time? It’s questionable whether your son can even be welcomed into the Xie household!"

He knew Xie Zheng well—by now, he was probably vetting suitors for his sister.

Aside from his looks, what saving graces did his third son have? His temper was foul, he couldn’t even charm a woman, and he was rigid with rules, more pompous than the scholars of the Imperial Academy. He had lost both his wife and daughter by his own doing.

Thinking of his precious little granddaughter, Marquis Wei sighed heavily.

Would Yan Sheng blame him too? He still wanted to see his little granddaughter.

...

After the banquet, invitations poured into the general’s residence.

A Yuan, preoccupied with training seamstresses, had Chun Tao decline all of them.

As for the letters Wei Xun had included among them, they didn’t even make it to A Yuan’s hands.

Outside the study of the Marquis of Anning’s residence.

Wei Xun had already sent ten letters, yet there was no response from the Xie family.

"Didn’t you say young ladies loved those romantic poems?"

Wei Xun shot a icy glare at Zhang Feng as he spoke coldly.

A sheen of cold sweat broke out on Zhang Feng's forehead, but he dared not wipe it.

"She really does like them," he said. "The bookstore owner told me so himself."

"Then why hasn’t A Yuan replied to me?"

Wei Xun pressed his lips together, his eyes clouded with confusion.

Zhang Feng swallowed hard. "Could it be that Mistress Xie never even saw them? Your letters were mixed in with so many invitations—what if they never reached her?"

Zhang Feng had accidentally struck a nerve. Wei Xun frowned.

"What do you suggest I do, then?"

"Perhaps... try appealing to her tastes?"

Appeal to her tastes? But he had no idea what A Yuan even liked.

Only now did Wei Xun realize how little he truly understood her.

He didn’t know her birthday, her past, or even her favorite things—what she enjoyed eating, what brought her joy.

Wei Xun’s face paled. What kind of heartless jerk had he been? A Yuan had been with him for five years, yet he had never once celebrated her birthday.

Even the few requests she had made, he had failed to fulfill.

Perhaps this was why A Yuan’s heart had grown cold toward him.

Wei Xun’s chest tightened with a dull ache. "Buy out Yugui Pavilion’s jewelry and Jinxiu Pavilion’s finest fabrics—have it all delivered to the General’s Manor."

He waved his hand dismissively, but Zhang Feng hesitated.

"Sir... won’t General Xie just toss everything out?"

Given Xie Zheng’s grudge-holding ways, he wouldn’t allow such gifts to reach Mistress Xie.

Seeing his lord’s expression darken further, Zhang Feng offered carefully, "The mistress is setting up an embroidery workshop and training seamstresses. How about recruiting some top master embroiderers from Jiangnan and sending them to her? That’d actually help her out."

To appeal to someone’s tastes, one must give what they truly need.

A Yuan had little interest in jewelry, and fancy silks were nothing next to her own needlework. Skilled embroiderers would be far more valuable to her.

Wei Xun’s brow smoothed, and he gave Zhang Feng an approving glance.

"Look at you being smart for once. You’re on it!"

"Yes, my lord."

Zhang Feng scampered off cheerfully, bumping into Chang Yuan at the door and tossing him a wink.

"I’m heading to Jiangnan for a while. The boss is your responsibility now."

Chang Yuan stared blankly. "What are you going to Jiangnan for?"

Zhang Feng wasn’t about to admit he was searching for master embroiderers—after all, he’d only pried that intel out of Chang Yuan.

If Chang Yuan caught on, he’d skin him alive.

Jiangnan’s got some trouble," Zhang Feng waved him off. "The boss sent me to investigate. Time-sensitive—gotta bolt. Just don’t let him set anything on fire."

Chang Yuan felt he was acting odd but couldn't say why, so he just nodded, "Then you'd better hurry. I'll handle things here with the master."

"Right."

Zhang Feng, feeling guilty, ran off in such a hurry that he didn’t even pack his belongings.

Chang Yuan felt uneasy, like he'd messed up somehow.

He couldn’t have... accidentally revealed his wife’s words, could he?

……

Royal Villa.

Shen Qiuyu, tears streaming down her face, threw herself into Prince Jing’s arms, her porcelain-white back crisscrossed with bloody whip marks.

Prince Jing traced his fingers over the wounds, admiring his handiwork.

Shen Qiuyu bit back the pain but forced herself to endure, afraid of angering the man.

"Why the tears? Did I hurt you?"

Shen Qiuyu couldn’t admit it—Prince Jing was known for his cruelty. She had once witnessed a palace maid beaten to death simply for crying out in pain.

"No, Shen Qiuyu just feels wronged."

Her eyes reddened, her words trailing off.

"Wronged about what?"

Having satisfied himself, Prince Jing was in a rare mood for idle talk.

"Wei Xun jilting me at the altar ruined my reputation, and now he’s falsely accused me of tormenting his concubine. You have no idea how people in the capital see me now—as if I’m some vicious witch."

"What’s wrong with being ruthless? Better than those sanctimonious hypocrites."

Prince Jing sneered, thinking of his elder brother, the Crown Prince, who masked his ambition with fake detachment.

And Wei Xun—he still owed him vengeance for the grudge against the Su family.

Seeing the hatred flicker in the man’s eyes, Shen Qiuyu batted her eyelashes innocently.

"I don’t care about my own reputation, but I can’t stand Wei Xun’s arrogance..."

"Oh? Do you have a way to humiliate him?" Prince Jing’s fingers stilled.

Shen Qiuyu knew she had caught his attention and continued, "Right now, the person Wei Xun values most is his concubine. To truly hurt him, all we need to do is have her married off to someone else."

She paused, glancing up at Prince Jing’s intrigued expression before revealing her true intent.

"You wouldn’t believe how stunning that concubine is—rarely does any woman in the capital compare. Especially since she’s borne children—her body is curvaceous and seductive, enough to captivate even other women."

Prince Jing had a thing for beautiful women, and she knew this would get to him.

Wei Xun had destroyed her life—she would make sure he regretted it forever!