Read Novel Full CHAPTER 40 PART2
CHAPTER 40 PART2
Some time ago, Juan’er’s mother had fallen ill with a bad chill—coughing constantly, chest tight, and phlegm thick and yellow. It was Xiao Yanfei who had given her the medicine that cured her. Since then, Juan’er had been deeply grateful to her.
Haitang carefully repeated everything Juan’er had told her, her gaze lingering on Xiao Yanfei.
Xiao Yanfei was seated at her writing desk, brush in hand, quietly focused on her calligraphy. Her expression was serene and composed.
She had changed into a simple robe of pale moon-white gauze, and her hair, no longer pinned up, was loosely tied with a matching white ribbon, half-up, half-down. The glossy black strands cascaded down her back like a waterfall, making her fair, delicate face appear even more petite and refined.
A thin silver sash encircled her waist, accentuating her graceful figure. She looked fresh, elegant—enchantingly beautiful.
Once Haitang had finished her report, Xiao Yanfei set her brush aside and instructed her to fetch a pouch of rose sugar candies as a reward for Juan’er, then dismissed her.
The small study was now silent, leaving only Xiao Yanfei behind. Inside and out, the stillness was like undisturbed water.
She absently rubbed her chin, deep in thought.
Xiao Luanfei clearly knew the truth about her origins, but Madam Cui didn’t seem to know. If she had, she certainly would’ve run to tell Xiao Luanfei about that day in Tingyu Pavilion—when she was threatened. And if Xiao Luanfei had heard about that, there’s no way she’d still be treating her with such calm indifference.
How amusing these two are. They really were mother and daughter.
The question was—
How did Xiao Luanfei find out?
If it hadn’t come from Madam Cui, then who told her? Where had she learned such a closely guarded secret?
Surely she hadn’t had the same kind of… fortuitous encounter as I did?
Xiao Yanfei rested her cheek against one hand, the other idly toying with the sleeping fox paperweight on her desk. A faint, knowing smile curved her lips.
It had been so long—fifteen years. Most of the evidence had likely vanished into the depths of time.
If she relied solely on digging up people or proof from fifteen years ago, who knew how long it would take? She needed a breakthrough.
And right now, Xiao Luanfei was that breakthrough.
Xiao Yanfei let out a few lazy yawns, one after another, before glancing down at the silk paper in front of her.
Bezoar, rhino horn, turmeric, scutellaria, gardenia, realgar, coptis, cinnabar—one liang each.
She was transcribing the formula for Angong Niuhuang Wan.
Dipping her brush lightly into the inkstone, she continued writing.
Borneol, musk…
The formula came from Wenbing Tiaobian—not a secret prescription, and not a particularly complicated one. She had memorized it long ago.
The ingredients, the preparation methods—she remembered them all with crystal clarity.
Composed and focused, Xiao Yanfei wrote line after line until she finished the entire recipe in one go. Then she set her brush down.
The small, elegant characters in “flower-hairpin script” flowed smoothly across the silk paper—so refined, they could be mistaken for calligraphy from a copybook.
Xiao Yanfei beamed with satisfaction, admiring her own graceful handwriting.
Knock, knock.
Suddenly, a soft knock came from one of the windows by her desk.
Through the translucent paper pane, she could make out the silhouette of a tall, upright figure—slender, poised, familiar.
Just from the outline alone, Xiao Yanfei immediately recognized who it was. Her heart leapt with delight as she stood up.
With a soft creak, she slid open the window.
Standing just outside was Gu Feichi. Their eyes met through the window frame, the golden-red light of the setting sun pouring gently over his dark hair and robes. His features were chiseled and striking, touched by shifting shadows and light—like a masterpiece carved in jade.
He leaned casually against the window frame, posture relaxed, expression cool and nonchalant.
So effortlessly composed, so graceful—so easy on the eyes.
“Gu Feichi,” Xiao Yanfei called his full name with feigned indifference, not even bothering to lift her eyelids, as if his sudden appearance were the most natural thing in the world.
The imperial edict had only just been issued today, yet she’d had a strange feeling all along—a quiet certainty that Gu Feichi would come.
And he had.
The corners of her lips curved upward, a trace of playful grievance in her voice as she half-pouted, “Do you have any idea how much trouble you’ve caused me?”
Gu Feichi gave a faint smile—subtle and cool, like the first thaw of ice in early spring.
He was in a good mood, so he played along gently. “My fault.”
Xiao Yanfei couldn’t help it—she burst out laughing.
He didn’t wait for an invitation. With one hand bracing against the window frame, Gu Feichi vaulted effortlessly into the study, as casual as if it were his own room.
Xiao Yanfei went on, “This morning, the Empress sent me a congratulatory nanny. Then this afternoon, I went to the palace with my mother. The Empress told me I should behave myself and report things to them in the future.”
Though she was clearly complaining, there wasn’t a trace of gloom in her expression. On the contrary, her features were animated, her eyes bright and lively.
“It’s so troublesome,” Xiao Yanfei said with exaggerated seriousness, her voice clear and melodious like a lark in spring.
Gu Feichi stifled a laugh and sat down at ease in the armchair by the window, his brows relaxed, his gaze gentle. He nodded solemnly. “Very troublesome indeed.”
“Exactly!” Xiao Yanfei nodded emphatically.
As the saying goes, the child who cries gets the candy.
If she had suffered any grievance because of him, she was certainly going to let him know. If she kept it all bottled up, she’d end up drowning in it—unable to breathe.
She grumbled again, “At least other people know to give a sweet date after the slap. The Empress didn’t even bother with the date.”
Honestly, the Empress really had no talent for winning people over.
“Then I’ll give it to you,” Gu Feichi said as he pulled a small rectangular rosewood box from his wide sleeve—roughly the size of a palm—and placed it on the desk, pushing it toward her.
What’s he giving me? A date?
Curious, Xiao Yanfei took the box and opened the lid.
Inside was a thick stack of official contracts, pressed neatly together.
She flipped through them quickly—deeds for land and houses, promissory notes, silver drafts. Each banknote had a face value of five thousand taels. There were property deeds for residences in the capital, several storefronts, and even a hot spring estate in the outskirts of the city…
Her lips parted slightly in astonishment, eyes wide with disbelief.
Just this morning, she had been quite pleased with the ten thousand taels she received as part of her bridal dowry, thinking herself already quite wealthy.
And now, she was staring at an even greater fortune—This stack of deeds and notes was worth at least several tens of thousands of taels!
“These are my personal assets,” Gu Feichi said calmly, pouring himself a cup of wine. “They’re not recorded in the family’s official account.”
The gentle aroma of lotus-blossom wine slowly spread through the room.
Xiao Yanfei sniffed the air, then looked up at him with wide, admiring eyes: He actually has this much private wealth? Just how rich is he?!
Meeting those expressive eyes of hers, Gu Feichi felt a deep sense of peace, like wandering through a sun-dappled forest—no need for caution, no need for pretense. Just ease, and warmth.
He smiled slightly and added, “I started following my father onto the battlefield when I was twelve. He told me that once I stepped onto the field, I was no longer a child. If a man needed silver, he shouldn’t have to beg for it at home—that wouldn’t do.”
“From that point on, he let me keep my share of the spoils.”
As Gu Feichi recalled the past, the smile at the corner of his lips deepened. “From now on, you keep these,” he said.
Everything in that box had been accumulated over the past seven or eight years—including the ten thousand taels he had just received from his campaign against the Japanese pirates in Qingzhou.
Xiao Yanfei couldn’t help but ask, “Are you sure… all of this is for me?”
She glanced down, her eyes drifting toward his right arm, the one partially hidden beneath his sleeve. Suddenly, the stack of deeds in her hands felt heavy.
This wasn’t just wealth. These were the spoils of war—hard-earned through blood and flesh, through blade and battlefield.
If she were to go back on her word one day… wouldn’t that make her heart feel a little guilty?
Gu Feichi gazed at her steadily, the look in his eyes deep and unwavering.
Her skin was smooth and luminous, hair half-up, half-down, cascading like silk down her back. Her dark, clear eyes flickered with emotion—now envy, now joy, now hesitation, now uncertainty—each expression more vivid than the last. She was radiant, captivating.
She reminded him of a white fox he’d once encountered while hunting in the snowy mountains of the northeast. Its fur had been pure as fresh snow, its blue eyes glimmering like crystal under the winter sun.
In that vast, frozen world, the white fox darted across the snow like a falling star—free, wild, and alive.
He’d already drawn his longbow, arrow notched, the tip aimed precisely. He could’ve taken it down with a single shot—but in the end, he had lowered the bow and let it go, watching as it vanished into the wilderness.
Now, back in the present, Gu Feichi’s thoughts returned to the girl standing before him—graceful and proud.
And this time, he didn’t want to let her go.
That desire settled clearly in his heart—with no hesitation at all.
Following her gaze to his own sleeve, Gu Feichi arched an eyebrow, a ripple of emotion stirring in his chest. He immediately understood what she was looking at, and a subtle gleam lit his eyes.
He pulled up his sleeve slightly, revealing the scar on his right forearm.
Two raised marks stood out starkly against his pale skin—the aftermath of an arrow that had pierced clean through his arm during a battle in Jizhou the year before last.
Xiao Yanfei’s eyes locked onto the wound, her expression stiffening.
Just looking at it made her heart ache. She could imagine the moment that arrow struck—flesh torn, blood pouring.
He must have been in unbearable pain.
And that was only one of his injuries. After so many years on the battlefield… how many others must he have suffered—worse, even?
He was clearly fighting to protect the country, clearly defending the people—
Yet those self-righteous critics still dared to brand him as “brutal by nature,” “ruthless and cold-blooded.”
But every man he killed on the battlefield deserved to die.
Those bandits who slaughtered innocent villagers—should he have spared them instead? Should he have “pacified” them and handed them official titles? Given murderers a place in the court?
What a joke.
Xiao Yanfei suddenly became aware of the uneven texture beneath her fingertips—warm skin, firm muscle, the smooth contour of his arm beneath her hand.
Then, all at once, her body stiffened.
Only then did she realize she had, at some point, reached out and touched Gu Feichi’s arm. Just like that. Unthinking.
And now, Gu Feichi was looking at her with a half-smile, amusement flickering in his eyes…
Was that—was that inappropriate?! Was she taking advantage of him?!
As if burned, Xiao Yanfei jerked her hand back, her fingertips hot with embarrassment, as if still holding the lingering warmth of his skin.
Desperately avoiding his gaze, she looked back down at the stack of land deeds and banknotes in her hand.
Then came his voice—low, gentle, like a breeze brushing over water: “Help me look after them, will you? Otherwise, I might spend recklessly and find myself broke on the battlefield.”
“Alright?”
His voice, usually cool and reserved, was now softer than spring wind—
And that last word, drawn out with a teasing lift at the end, made her heart skip a beat.
***