Chapter 011: The Departing King

Sang Hongyun entered the storeroom and surveyed its contents. Before long, Madam Feng arrived at the doorway, followed by Sang Zhongli and Sang Zhongshi.

Sang Hongyun said, “It’s not difficult for Great Aunt to have the things in this storeroom, but let me first see which of these are what you fought for yourselves!”

Madam Feng’s eyes reddened. “Hongyun, you’re still the eldest young lady of the Sang family. With your grandfather absent, the things in the storeroom naturally should be entrusted to a senior like me. What are you doing? Do you not trust us?”

As Sang Hongyun examined the items arranged in the cabinets, she replied, “For someone who wished to see the Sang household drenched in blood, how could I possibly entrust the entire Marquess of Dingguo’s estate to her care? Oh, look at this piece—this jade belt, set with diamonds, was a reward from His Majesty to my grandfather for slaying the Tartar general last year. And this ancient painting from the previous dynasty was given to my father three years ago, when he thwarted a Tartar ambush and safeguarded the Crown Prince, who was on his way to reward the soldiers. His Majesty gifted my father his favorite painting of triumphant warriors. Ah, and this—this pair of bracelets, bestowed upon me by His Majesty a year ago after I saved Prince Li, their quality is truly exquisite! Second Uncle, Third Uncle, I’ve searched for so long and still see nothing here won by your own efforts. Where are they? Show me! If there are any, you may take them!”

Sang Zhongli and Sang Zhongshi flushed with embarrassment. Not a single thing in this storeroom had been earned by their own merits; it was clear Sang Hongyun’s purpose was to shame them.

Sang Hongyun blew the dust from her hands. “Nothing? Really? Could it be that my two uncles have always relied on three generations of my family staking their lives to support you—not to mention my aunts and cousins as well!”

Madam Feng could not help but protest, “Military men, isn’t that what they’re supposed to do? Your grandfather never said your uncles couldn’t use these things!”

“Of course you can use them—who said you couldn’t? Now tell me, what do you want?”

Sang Hongyun smiled, her gaze never leaving Madam Feng, glancing sidelong at Sang Zhongli and Sang Zhongshi.

Madam Feng wanted to demand everything, but she dared not. The scent of blood from that night still lingered in her nostrils, and she found herself afraid of Sang Hongyun.

Sang Hongyun continued, “You can see them but not touch them—does it itch at your heart like a cat’s paw? Great Aunt, I advise you to give up any thought of this storeroom. When my father returns, you’ll receive an explanation. For now, it’s best you return and rest.”

Madam Feng sensed that Sang Hongyun carried the same deadly aura as the Marquess himself, and dared not argue further. She left the storeroom with Sang Zhongli and Sang Zhongshi in tow. The two old serving women, now truly frightened, hurried after her.

Watching their retreating figures, Sang Hongyun said, “The storeroom is of utmost importance—its security must not be taken lightly. Have Steward Sang arrange for a proper guard.”

Sang Yu went to inform the steward, while Sang Ling accompanied Sang Hongyun back to her quarters.

As soon as they entered, Sang Hongyun saw someone seated on her soft couch, sipping tea from her personal cup. “Prince Li! What a fine mood you’re in!”

Zhao Liran looked up from his tea. “You do take your time handling matters. I’ve been sitting here for half an hour!”

Sang Hongyun felt she’d only been gone half an hour herself. Settling the matter of Madam Feng trying to seize the storeroom while she was ill should not have taken long.

“Prince Li, you and I have little to do with each other. For you to be sitting in my bedchamber in broad daylight—do you think the rumors in the capital aren’t wild enough as it is?”

Zhao Liran replied, “Yu Lirong wants An Zichen all to herself. You’d best not think of marrying An Zichen—he’s not worth it.”

Then whom should she marry? Sang Hongyun plopped down on the large kang opposite Zhao Liran, tucked up her legs, and picked up a marinated chicken drumstick from the plate, eating with relish.

She spoke as she ate, “Whether he’s worth it or not isn’t for you to decide! Tell me, just how did you, with your lame leg, manage to get into the Sang residence and sneak into my room?”

Watching her gulp down the chicken leg, Zhao Liran was reminded of the days at the frontier when she’d nursed him for ten days and nights. As she chatted with him, she often spoke of chicken legs—not because she particularly loved the taste, but because his injured leg reminded her of her fondness for drumsticks. She’d always likened his wounded leg to a chicken leg, and he remembered it well. Life at the frontier was harsh, and such delicacies were a luxury.

From the moment he awoke from his coma, he’d wanted to give her a chicken drumstick, yet had never had the chance.

“Naturally, I found a way in. I received a white fox pelt—it’s quite nice. Make yourself a cloak from it; it’ll be just right for the cold.”

A fox pelt was a fine gift. This fellow was not ungrateful to his savior after all.

“I can’t accept a reward where none is due. Wait, did you come to pay a debt of gratitude?”

Zhao Liran lifted his teacup. “Indeed. You saved my life—what’s a fox pelt in return? Take it. By the way, in three days, an imperial edict will arrive. Be ready to enter the Prince’s estate.”

Sang Hongyun was stunned. “A betrothal decree?”

Zhao Liran laughed. “You’re not worthy of that—yet. I need your help with something.”

Sang Hongyun said, “The Sang family is in chaos right now. What will happen if I leave? This is my parents’ home!”

“Don’t worry—no one can take it from you,” Zhao Liran replied, rising to his feet.

“You said it!” Sang Hongyun’s eyes lit up. She took another bite of chicken, cheeks bulging, and said with her mouth full.

Zhao Liran watched her, a smudge of meat at the corner of her lips. He stepped forward and wiped it away gently. “I said it.”

Sang Hongyun was about to speak, but the cool touch at her lips was so comfortable she squinted her eyes. “But tell me, what exactly do you need me to do at your estate?”

Zhao Liran glanced at the bit of meat on his finger, then popped it into his mouth. “Sweep the house. Get rid of some pests.”

Sang Hongyun was speechless as she watched him put the morsel into his mouth, still holding her half-eaten drumstick as Zhao Liran limped away.

Sweep the house?

Get rid of pests?

She, a dignified sixth-rank Commandant of Trust, was to sweep his house?

Sang Hongyun curled her lip, eyes blazing with indignation. “In your dreams!”

—New story! Please add to your collection!