TPMCS(rebirth) 9

While Jiang Li was lost in her thoughts, thousands of miles away in Shengjing, the city was alive with energy. The streets were illuminated by countless lanterns, and the bustling crowds filled the night with a vibrant rhythm.

On Chang’an Street, the brothels and restaurants were brimming with activity, their noise spilling out into the thoroughfare. Perfumed handkerchiefs fluttered from the balconies of brothels as flirtatious girls leaned over, drawing the attention of passersby.

He Yong’s eyes darted from one sight to another, marveling at the carefree revelry. Watching the handkerchiefs fall, he sighed, “It’s true what they say—under the emperor’s gaze, even the girls are bolder!”

This was He Yong’s first visit to Shengjing as part of an escort mission. He had secretly planned to explore the city’s infamous delights before leaving, but just as his thoughts wandered, a sharp blow landed on the back of his head.

“Are you out of your mind?” Sun Ping snapped, glaring at him. “We barely escaped with our lives, and you’re thinking about girls?”

He Yong rubbed his head, grinning sheepishly. “Oh, come on, brother! We survived a disaster, didn’t we? Isn’t there a saying—good fortune follows those who escape calamity? Why shouldn’t we take this chance to enjoy life?”

Sun Ping, unwilling to entertain He Yong’s skewed logic, waved him off and sighed deeply. “This escort trip nearly cost the lives of all 28 members of Longsheng Escort Agency. If it weren’t for Master Huo, we’d be six feet under, meeting the King of Hell.”

The mention of Baishui Village brought a shiver down He Yong’s spine.

He recalled the bandits they had encountered there ten days ago, a ruthless gang that killed without hesitation.

“I’ve seen killers before,” He Yong muttered, “but I’ve never seen anything like them.”

That day, seven or eight escort teams had entered Baishui Village. Only their group emerged alive—and all thanks to a frail young man and a small wooden sculpture.

If they told anyone, no one would believe it.

The memory drained the desire for revelry from He Yong. His steps quickened as he followed Sun Ping through Chang’an Street and Ruyi Street before they turned into Suzaku Street.

Unlike the lively Chang’an Street, Suzaku Street was quiet, its atmosphere steeped in solemnity.

This silence was fitting; the residents here were Shengjing’s most elite nobles.

Their destination, the Xue family’s mansion—home of the Duke of Dingguo—stood prominently in the heart of Suzaku Street.

Unable to suppress his curiosity, He Yong whispered, “Brother, what do you think Master Huo’s real identity is? First the mysterious qilin carving, and now he’s connected to the Duke of Dingguo’s Mansion. I’m thinking—”

“Shut your mouth!” Sun Ping snapped, glaring fiercely at him. “Don’t you dare speculate about Master Huo’s identity! Whoever he is, remember this: Longsheng Escort Agency owes its survival—28 lives—to his intervention. If I have to walk through fire and water to repay him, I’ll do it without hesitation.”

A quarter of an hour later, Sun Ping and He Yong stood before the side gate of the Duke of Dingguo’s Mansion.

Sun Ping reached out and knocked on the ancient red door with the brass ring. The sound echoed into the stillness of the night.

Moments later, the sound of footsteps approached from within.

The door creaked open, revealing a gatekeeper dressed in indigo. He carried a paper lantern, and his sharp eyes swept over the two men before he asked, “Who are you?”

Sun Ping offered a friendly, honest smile. Reaching into his chest pocket, he produced two wax-sealed bamboo tubes and handed them over with utmost respect.

“I am Sun Ping, head of Longsheng Escort Agency, and this is my sworn brother, He Yong. We have been entrusted to deliver these letters.”

-

As soon as Sun Ping and He Yong left, the gatekeeper stared at the bamboo mailboxes in his hand for a few moments. With the paper basket tucked under his arm, he hurried off to find Butler Lin.

Butler Lin had just stepped out of the old lady’s meditation hall when he noticed the gatekeeper approaching in haste. His brows furrowed as he asked, “Why the rush?”

The gatekeeper, slightly out of breath, forced a smile and held up the mailboxes. “Butler Lin, these arrived just now from a messenger at the corner gate. They’re addressed to Wushuang Courtyard. Should we... inform the prince about them?”

Butler Lin raised an eyebrow. “Are these for that person?”

“No,” the gatekeeper replied, shaking his head. “They’re for Tong Mama, the one who serves Aunt Wei.”

Butler Lin thought for a moment. The prince had gone to the palace earlier that day and had sent word that he would stay there overnight, returning only after court the next afternoon.

While the prince typically oversaw all matters related to Wushuang Courtyard, these were just letters for a servant. They likely had no bearing on that person. It hardly seemed necessary to delay their delivery until the prince’s return.

With a wave of his hand, Butler Lin instructed, “If they’re for Tong Mama, deliver them promptly. Don’t keep her waiting.”

The gatekeeper nodded, taking his leave with the mailboxes.

Wushuang Courtyard

Madam Tong had just finished attending to Wei Yan when she heard low voices in the courtyard outside.

“Lianqin, Lianqi,” she called to the two maids standing by, “stay here and continue serving Aunt Wei. Make sure her hair is dried properly. I’ll go see who’s outside.”

Lifting the curtain, Madam Tong stepped into the courtyard.

At the gate, she saw the gatekeeper handing over two bamboo mailboxes. “Madam, here’s a letter for you,” he said respectfully.

Madam Tong accepted the mailboxes with a calm expression, though her heart rippled with unease.

She had long been thought dead in this world. Who could possibly send her a letter?

From inside, the curtain in the inner room rustled as a cold draft swept through.

Wei Yan, seated on the couch, raised her eyes and softly asked, “Mammy, what’s going on?”

Madam Tong glanced at the maids still attending Wei Yan and replied with a composed smile, “Nothing of importance, my lady. Just a letter addressed to me.”

Wei Yan nodded lightly, her gaze lowering to conceal the flicker of curiosity in her eyes.

---

The candlelight flickered with a soft crackle, casting wavering shadows across the room. Once her hair was dry, Wei Yan dismissed the maids. “The prince won’t be coming tonight. I’ll retire early. You may leave; Mammy will attend to me.”

Lianqin and Lianqi bowed and retreated, their footsteps fading into the night.

When the room was finally quiet, Mammy Tong extinguished the candles, leaving only one lit beside the bed.

Wei Yan leaned closer and lowered her voice. “Mammy, open the letter quickly. It might be news from Baishui Village.”

Madam Tong hesitated, worry etched across her face. “If it were from Baishui Village, it wouldn’t have been sent to the Duke’s Mansion. My lady, I fear someone has discovered that you’re still alive.”

Wei Yan chuckled faintly, her expression devoid of warmth. “And if they have? I’m barely clinging to life. Whoever wants it can take it—though I imagine Xue Wuwen will torment me to death first.”

Madam Tong’s heart tightened at the sight of Wei Yan’s frail form, but she held back her tears, unwilling to stir up her mistress’s painful memories.

Wordlessly, she opened the mailbox and pulled out two sheets of letter paper. As she unfolded them, confusion clouded her face.

Although she could read, the letters’ contents made no sense to her.

“My lady, this letter...”

Wei Yan turned her head, her eyes sharp with interest.

Her gaze swept over the overlapping papers. As realization struck, she bolted upright and snatched the letters from Mammy Tong.

Pressing the sheets together, she scanned the combined text with a trembling hand. Once, twice—she read them as though trying to etch every word into her mind.

When she finished, her pallid face flushed with a rare hint of life.

“Mammy!” she exclaimed, her voice trembling. “My brother... my brother is alive! He’s changed his name to Huo Jue!”

Wei Yan’s hands shook as she clutched the papers. She and her brother, Wei Jin, had devised this secret way of writing letters as children. By overlaying the two sheets, the hidden message would reveal itself.

Her voice wavered as she continued, “He’s in Tong’an City.”

Her fragile frame seemed to radiate newfound hope, though it was tinged with disbelief and lingering despair.

-

Time flew by, and March was nearing its end.

Since learning of the connection between Xue Zhen and Huo Jue, Jiang Li had been unsettled, but she never considered confronting Huo Jue about it.

In her view, Huo Jue’s decision to become her child husband was likely made in haste, driven by heartbreak after Su Yao had rejected him. She couldn’t blame him for that.

Moreover, she had to acknowledge Xue Zhen’s advantages: a prestigious family background, remarkable talents, and a father who was not only a Jinshi but also a principal at the Imperial College. Marrying Xue Zhen would undoubtedly benefit Huo Jue’s studies and future career.

Between herself and Xue Zhen, most people would naturally choose Xue Zhen.

But if Huo Jue ultimately chose her, Jiang Li, then she was determined not to let him go.

To that end, Jiang Li resolved to treat Huo Jue exceptionally well, so well that he would have no choice but to pick her.

With that thought, she resumed her needlework, deciding to embroider a purse for him and fill it with silver coins. After all, it was the purse she had given him last time that seemed to move him.

Yang Huiniang often came across Jiang Li sitting quietly on the couch, focused intently on her embroidery. The sight of her daughter, serene and elegant, filled Yang Huiniang with relief. She thought to herself, My daughter has finally matured. It’s time to find a suitable match for her in Tong’an City.

In the Great Zhou Dynasty, women who were not betrothed in childhood usually began discussing marriage at age fifteen. Jiang Li, having lost her father at a young age and being the eldest daughter, faced greater challenges in finding a match compared to women with both parents.

Yang Huiniang didn’t have extravagant expectations for Jiang Li’s future husband—she simply hoped for someone honest, loving, and perhaps a little handsome.

Jiang Li, unaware of her mother’s intentions, focused on her embroidery. After several days of effort, she completed a purse with a simple yet elegant design: white auspicious clouds embroidered on dark ink-colored fabric.

Still, she doubted her skills and showed the purse to her younger brother, Jiang Ling. “What do you think this pattern is supposed to be?” she asked.

Jiang Ling stared at it for a moment before replying, “Aren’t these willow catkins blowing in the wind?”

Jiang Li was speechless. “...”

Well, willow catkins were at least better than green bamboo mistaken for orchids.

With the embroidery done, she turned her attention to the purse’s contents—silver.

Recently, Jiang Li had been doing brisk business with several wealthy families, selling all her fruit wine to the Zhang family. However, she also had a stock of medicinal wine brewed earlier during her herb-collecting trips with Su Bo. Ideally, medicinal wine should be aged to increase its value, but Jiang Li was in urgent need of funds and decided to sell it all.

Fortunately, her wine was of excellent quality, with a rich, mellow taste. The wealthy families, recognizing its worth, paid handsomely for it.

From her earnings, she took out two gleaming silver ingots and placed them into the purse.

Once everything was ready, she headed to the pear tree outside the medicine shop’s side door, where she waited for Huo Jue.

The young lady stood hesitantly, her gaze fixed on the entrance of the alley.

March evenings darkened swiftly. As the Shen hour passed, the sky glowed with the fiery hues of sunset, the clouds awash in brilliant colors.

Huo Jue appeared, strolling leisurely under the golden light.

When he spotted Jiang Li standing beneath the pear tree, he hesitated momentarily before quickening his pace.

Jiang Li greeted him with a radiant smile, her crescent-shaped eyes shining with delight. “Huo Jue, you’re done with school!”

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TPMCS(rebirth) 8 - If Huo Jue really didn't want to be her child husband, she seemed... unwilling to blame him for anything.

 The young lady held a stack of used rice paper in her hands, her fingertips smudged with ink.

Though she didn’t look disheveled, this wasn’t how she wanted to present herself to Huo Jue. In the past, despite her fondness for him, she had been carefree and untamed, unconcerned about her appearance when stepping out, unlike other young ladies.

But now things were different. As her mother had reminded her, she would soon be a grown woman.

Startled by his presence, Jiang Li instinctively hid the papers behind her back. “Why are you at the bookstore? Did you come to buy paper, ink, brushes, or an inkstone?”

“No,” Huo Jue replied, stepping closer. “I came here specifically to wait for you.”

With a quick motion, his long arm reached out and effortlessly plucked the papers from her hands.

“Hey! What are you doing?” Jiang Li protested, flustered. She stretched out her hands in a futile attempt to reclaim her “treasured creations.” “Give them back! The ink hasn’t dried yet!”

Huo Jue, taller and faster, held the papers high above her reach.

It was a busy street, and Jiang Li didn’t want to make a scene. Puffing her cheeks in frustration, she turned and stomped away.

Huo Jue followed close behind, staying just a step back.

When they neared the end of the street, he held the papers up again and called out, “Ali, come find me at the pharmacy later.”

Jiang Li turned sharply, shooting him an annoyed glare before vanishing into the tavern.

Huo Jue watched her retreat, a faint smile spreading across his dark eyes.

Once, Ali had been shy and hesitant, struggling even to form words in his presence. But now, she’d grown bold enough to glare at him.

He found it quite charming.

-

Jiang Li went home, changed her clothes, washed her hands, and quietly slipped out through the patio.

When she arrived at the drugstore, she was surprised to find not just Huo Jue but also Su Shiqing.

Seeing Su Shiqing up and about startled her at first, but she quickly noticed how much healthier he looked. His complexion had improved significantly since the last time she’d seen him.

“Old Man Su! You’re up and walking?” Jiang Li exclaimed with a bright smile.

Su Shiqing laughed warmly and replied, “Yes, after Ajue adjusted my prescription, I’ve been feeling better every day. I’ve even been able to get out of bed and move around these past two days.”

“That’s wonderful! Old Man Su is truly blessed,” Jiang Li said, grinning. “But if you ask me, you should take this chance to rest properly. Once you’re fully recovered, you’ll be back to your busy self before you know it.”

Su Shiqing chuckled heartily, “Alright, alright, Uncle Su will listen to Ajue and rest as much as needed!”

He then turned to Jiang Li, his tone playful, “Ajue tells me you’re learning calligraphy from him. That’s admirable! Stick with it, and if he scolds you, come tell me—I’ll put in a good word for you.”

Jiang Li blinked in confusion. When did I ever say I wanted to learn calligraphy from him?

She turned toward Huo Jue, meeting his steady gaze. His cold yet gentle eyes gave nothing away. Deciding not to expose him, she obediently nodded, “Yes.”

Satisfied, Su Shiqing didn’t linger long, as his body was still recovering. After chatting briefly, he returned indoors to rest.

Huo Jue led Jiang Li to the flower hall, where she noticed paper, ink, brushes, and an inkstone already laid out neatly on the table.

It seemed this young master had made up his mind to personally teach her calligraphy.

Huo Jue stood behind the table, grinding ink at a leisurely pace. His voice was calm and soothing. “If Ah Li wanted to learn calligraphy, why didn’t she come to me? Isn’t my handwriting better than Miss Liu’s?”

Jiang Li bit her lip. Better? Of course, it’s better!

Her younger brother, Ah Ling, had praised Huo Jue’s writing countless times, saying it was even more elegant than their teacher’s.

But that was precisely the problem. His calligraphy was too good.

After a long pause, Jiang Li muttered, “Why use a butcher’s knife to kill a chicken?”

Huo Jue’s hand froze briefly. Then, after a few heartbeats, a deep chuckle rumbled from his chest.

Flustered, Jiang Li’s face turned red. “What I mean is, there’s no need to waste your talent. I can learn from Ah Yan or, at worst, even from Ah Ling!”

“But I want to teach Ah Li,” Huo Jue said, wiping his hands with a handkerchief. His pale eyes lifted to meet hers, his tone unhurried. “Does Ah Li not want me to?”

Her resolve faltered under his intense, narrow phoenix eyes.

She hesitated. Of course I don’t want him to see my awful handwriting! Her letters were so clumsy they looked like they’d been scrawled by a child.

But faced with Huo Jue’s gaze, the words “I don’t want to” refused to leave her lips.

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” she murmured reluctantly. “But you’re not allowed to laugh at my writing. If you laugh, I’ll never learn from you again!”

Her soft, lilting voice tried to sound threatening, but her expression resembled a tiny kitten baring its teeth—adorable rather than intimidating.

Huo Jue smiled faintly. “Don’t worry, Ah Li. I would never laugh at you. If I do, then—”

“Stop!” Jiang Li quickly raised her hand to cover his mouth, stopping him mid-sentence. “Don’t swear. Heaven might hear you.”

Her hands were warm and soft, with a delicate suppleness to them, a stark contrast to the cold, rigid touch he remembered from the past.

Huo Jue’s eyes darkened, a faint blush creeping up the corners of his cheeks. Hidden deep in his gaze was a flicker of possessiveness and an emotion bordering on madness.

He clasped her small hand in his larger one, pressing it gently before leaning forward and planting a soft kiss on her palm.

Jiang Li felt a light tickle on her skin. Before she could process what had happened, Huo Jue had already taken a step back. His voice was deeper now, tinged with hoarseness.

“Ah Li, if you don’t start practicing soon, it’ll get dark.”

-

At night, as everything quieted down, Jiang Li sat with Huo Jue’s calligraphy in her hands, studying it for a long time.

The paper bore two names: Jiang Li and Huo Jue.

The names were written close together, overlapping slightly. The longer she looked at them, the more she liked what she saw.

Jiang Li was a simple person, unskilled in appreciating the nuances of artistic calligraphy. She didn’t care about the elegance or the structure of the characters—she just liked seeing her name paired with his. Together, the two names looked like a couple.

A smile spread across her face, growing wider with each passing moment.

But as she basked in this simple joy, a memory from the afternoon surfaced. She thought back to the moment she had hurriedly covered his lips with her hand.

Her palm seemed to tingle with the ghost of a sensation—warm and soft, like a fleeting kiss. Could it be? Did he… kiss her palm?

She shook her head, trying to dismiss the thought. Someone as composed and reserved as Huo Jue would never do something so bold. It must have been an accident.

Even so, Jiang Li felt her face grow unbearably hot.

She glanced around nervously. The door was closed, and the only sound was the faint rustling of the night wind.

Lowering her eyes to her palm, she stared at it intently. After battling between conscience and impulse, she finally made up her mind.

With a swift and decisive motion, she smacked the spot where Huo Jue’s lips might have touched, then immediately dove under her quilt, covering herself completely.

-

From that day forward, Jiang Li dedicated herself to practicing calligraphy daily.

Huo Jue prepared dozens of practice sheets for her and even crafted a makeshift ruler from a smooth branch. If her posture faltered or her focus wavered, he would lightly tap her with it as a reminder.

The gentle corrections startled Jiang Li every time, and she would glare at him indignantly before picking up her brush to continue.

By mid-March, Jiang Li’s once soft and unsteady handwriting had finally taken shape, becoming legible and graceful.

Eager to show off her progress, she brought her latest work to Liu Yan at the bookstore.

To her surprise, Zhang Yingying was there as well.

The two friends examined her calligraphy carefully, admiring it for a long time.

“You’ve improved so much,” Liu Yan exclaimed. “I thought you’d given up on practicing since you hadn’t been by the bookstore lately. But look at this—it’s beautiful!”

Zhang Yingying tilted her head, scrutinizing the paper. Finally, she couldn’t resist asking, “Ali, was it really Huo Jue who taught you calligraphy?”

Jiang Li nodded enthusiastically. “Of course it was him! When have I ever lied to you?”

The two exchanged glances, hesitation flickering across their faces.

The truth was, when Jiang Li had first claimed that Huo Jue agreed to be her child husband, neither of them had believed her.

It wasn’t uncommon for a young girl in love to misinterpret her lover’s words or actions. A vibrant and imaginative person like Jiang Li might easily misunderstand a casual remark.

But this? This was different.

If Huo Jue had taken the time to teach Jiang Li calligraphy—something requiring patience and attention—it was clear that she held a special place in his heart.

Yet, there was a problem.

Huo Jue was rumored to be engaged to Xue Shanzhang’s daughter, Miss Xue Zhen.

Seeing the concerned expressions on her friends’ faces, Jiang Li felt her heart sink.

“Are you hiding something from me?” she asked hesitantly.

Zhang Yingying, unable to keep secrets for long, blurted out, “Two maids from the Xue family came to the bedding shop recently. They were there to collect bedding for Miss Xue. I overheard them talking—they said that after Huo Jue passes the provincial examination, he’s supposed to get engaged to Miss Xue. Apparently, Xue Shanzhang has already arranged everything with him.”

Liu Yan added quietly, “My father went to the Xue household yesterday to deliver paper and ink. He heard the same thing. It seems Xue Shanzhang has been planning this for a long time, and… Huo Jue seems willing.”

Jiang Li’s face turned pale.

Suddenly, the pieces fell into place. She remembered seeing a maid named Suiyun on Zhufu Street a few days ago. At the time, she had wondered why the maid was there. Now it was clear—she must have been meeting Huo Jue on behalf of Miss Xue.

-

When Jiang Li returned home, she sat at her desk, troubled. Taking out a piece of paper, she wrote down her name and Xue Zhen’s side by side.

Under the category of family background, she marked herself with an “X” and Xue Zhen with a “○.”

She continued down the list, marking several more “X”s for herself and “○”s for Xue Zhen.

Finally, she reached the category of appearance. With trembling hands, she gave herself the first “○.”

But even that small consolation failed to lift her spirits.

Frustrated, Jiang Li folded the paper and stuffed it into her practice book. Resting her chin on the desk, she sighed heavily.

The once-spirited young lady now seemed as wilted as a frost-bitten eggplant.

She had finally caught up to Huo Jue, bridging the gap between them after so much effort.

And yet, after just a month, was she about to lose him?

If Huo Jue truly didn’t want to be her child husband, Jiang Li thought bitterly, she couldn’t bring herself to blame him. Not really.

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TPMCS(rebirth) 7 - Ali, come here

Jiang Li had brewed over twenty jars of fruit wine half a year ago.

The steward from the Yuanwai Mansion generously purchased all the jars, even offering 20% more than the price Jiang Li had set.

After the steward left, Jiang Li couldn’t contain her excitement. She clutched the bag of silver tightly, then rolled on the couch in sheer delight.

Her first earnings! With this, how far away could Huo Jue’s white jade house be?

Standing by the door, Yang Hui Niang observed Jiang Li's unabashed joy and couldn't help but laugh. “You’re almost of age, yet you’re still so childish. Put the silver away and deliver lunch to Ah Ling later.”

Jiang Li paused mid-roll, her watery eyes blinking several times. “Ah Ling forgot to bring his lunchbox?”

“That’s right. Hurry and take it to him.”

Wouldn’t this be a perfect excuse to deliver food to Huo Jue as well?

Jiang Li jumped off the couch with enthusiasm. “I’ll make a batch of meat pies for Ah Ling too. He’s looking a bit thinner lately.”

Half an hour later

Jiang Li stood at the entrance of Zhengde Academy, holding a heavy food box.

Lunch breaks at Zhengde Academy lasted only half an hour. Most students didn’t return home to eat, instead dining within the academy grounds.

By now, it was nearly noon, and a crowd of people had gathered near the entrance, either picking up or delivering meals.

Jiang Li’s father had once taught classics and history at the academy, and the gatekeeper instantly recognized her. Without hesitation, he allowed her in.

Jiang Li walked along the winding paths of the academy. As she approached the bamboo grove, her steps faltered.

From a distance, she spotted a boy and a girl talking amidst the bamboo.

The boy, dressed simply in plain coarse cloth, stood tall and graceful, exuding an elegant charm.

The girl wore a light blue pleated skirt adorned with jingling ornaments. Her refined air spoke of years steeped in scholarly pursuit.

Jiang Li didn’t recognize the girl, but something about her presence struck a chord. She seemed akin to Huo Jue—a scholarly demeanor shaped by a lifetime of learning.

The pair stood together, their figures harmonizing like a well-matched painting.

Jiang Li felt an ache in her chest as if it had been stuffed with cotton. Her breathing hitched.

“Huo Jue,” she called out softly.

The bamboo leaves rustled in the breeze, her faint voice nearly swallowed by the sound.

Whether it was her gaze or the faint utterance of his name, something drew Huo Jue’s attention.

His expression shifted, a touch of warmth breaking through his otherwise indifferent demeanor.

After a pause, a faint smile graced his lips.

“Ah Li, come here.”

---

Jiang Li walked over slowly, suppressing the sourness in her heart. She forced a smile and said to Huo Jue, "I’ve brought lunch for you and Ah Ling."

Huo Jue raised an eyebrow slightly. His cold demeanor softened, like the first thaw of winter snow, bringing a subtle warmth to his expression.

“Alright, hand me the lunch box.”

Just as Jiang Li passed the lunch box to him, a round-faced girl nearby frowned and spoke sharply. “Mr. Huo, my young lady woke up before dawn to prepare lunch for you. It took her half an hour just to make the white dragon soup. There’s also bright shrimp roast, chopstick spring, and imperial yellow queen mother rice—all exquisite dishes that ordinary people can’t replicate. Why would you choose to eat these coarse meals instead?”

Her crisp, fast-paced voice carried an indignant tone, but before she could finish, Huo Jue’s expression turned icy. His eyes narrowed, and for a fleeting moment, a cold glint flickered in his gaze.

Standing to the side, Xue Zhen caught the subtle shift in his demeanor and quickly reprimanded her maid. “Suiyun, that’s enough. Be quiet!”

Suiyun, realizing her mistress was genuinely upset, clamped her mouth shut but couldn’t resist shooting a hateful glare at Jiang Li.

Huo Jue’s gaze cooled further. He cast an indifferent glance at Xue Zhen, his expression distant and unreadable.

“I’ve been accustomed to simple meals since childhood,” Huo Jue said evenly. “Miss Xue’s delicate dishes should be reserved for the headmaster. He works tirelessly for the academy and expends great effort. I believe these meals would be more fitting for him.”

Though his voice was calm and pleasant, his words struck a nerve. Xue Zhen’s face paled with embarrassment.

To outsiders, her actions might appear as though she were trying to curry favor with a man, neglecting her own father in the process. If such rumors spread, her reputation as Tong’an City’s renowned scholar and noblewoman would be tarnished.

Countless suitors had sought her hand since she came of age, and she had always prided herself on her dignity. Never had she expected Huo Jue to reject her goodwill so bluntly.

Suppressing her frustration, Xue Zhen forced a polite smile and bowed slightly. “I’ve already prepared food for my father. When I heard Mr. Huo might be here, I made an extra portion on a whim. Since Mr. Huo already has someone to deliver his meals, I won’t intrude further. Come, Suiyun.”

As she turned to leave, Xue Zhen cast a fleeting glance at Jiang Li. Her expression remained composed, even gracious. With an elegant smile, she nodded and departed with her maid.

Her demeanor was polished and approachable, with no trace of arrogance.

Jiang Li instinctively returned her smile, but as soon as Xue Zhen and her maid disappeared into the bamboo grove, she couldn’t help but pout. “Does she come here often to bring you meals?”

Noticing the hint of jealousy in her voice, Huo Jue’s lips curved into a faint smile. “No. This was the first time—and it won’t happen again.”

Jiang Li still felt uneasy, though her frustration wasn’t directed at Huo Jue. It stemmed from a mix of emotions she couldn’t quite name.

Huo Jue found a quiet spot, sat on a stone bench, and gestured for her to join him. “Ah Li, did you make today’s lunch?”

Unable to bear the thought of him going hungry, Jiang Li reluctantly nodded. “Yes, I made some pies.”

She opened the food box to reveal a bamboo tray with six palm-sized pies, their golden-brown crusts still steaming. Each pie had a unique filling: lamb, beef, pork, and egg with vermicelli.

The crust was crisp on the outside and soft within, while the fillings were savory and rich.

Huo Jue ate all six pies in one sitting. When he finished, he accepted the honey water Jiang Li offered and took a few sips, visibly satisfied.

Seeing his content expression, Jiang Li found it hard to stay upset.

After all, Huo Jue hadn’t done anything wrong. A man like him would naturally attract the admiration of countless women. If she let herself get angry every time, she’d end up like a perpetually puffed-up pufferfish—hardly an attractive look.

Instead, she resolved to show that she could match whatever others could offer, and if not, she could always learn.

Smiling lightly, Jiang Li said, “If you’d like to try that ‘spring’ dish she mentioned, I can learn how to make it for you. I pick up things quickly.”

Huo Jue, who had experienced every delicacy imaginable during his time as the chief seal supervisor, knew the value of good food. Yet no rare dish could compare to the simple pies made by Ah Li.

“You don’t need to learn anything for me,” Huo Jue said, carefully placing the bamboo tray back into the food box. His long fingers traced the intricate lotus leaf patterns on the lid as he continued, “As long as it’s made by Ah Li, I’ll love it.”

---

Jiang Ling stood at the school gate for what felt like an eternity before finally spotting Jiang Li approaching.

“Ah Li, why are you so slow?” he called out.

Jiang Li felt a pang of guilt. She had been so preoccupied with Huo Jue that she had completely forgotten about her brother. Fortunately, there was still some time left for lunch.

She hurriedly handed him the food box, flashing an apologetic smile. “A Ling, I’m sorry. To make it up to you, I’ll cook you a delicious duck blood vermicelli stew when you get home from school.”

Jiang Ling wasn’t upset because of hunger but out of worry. He’d feared something might have happened to his scatterbrained sister on the way. Seeing her safe and sound, he let out a sigh of relief.

“It’s a deal then. But I also want your thousand-layer meat pie,” he added with a grin.

“Done,” Jiang Li replied cheerfully.

Jiang Ling grabbed the food box and was about to head back to class when he noticed Huo Jue standing nearby. As if recalling something important, he hurriedly urged his sister, “You should go back to the tavern. Brother Huo Jue and I need to review our lessons after dinner.”

“Alright,” Jiang Li said with a laugh. She exchanged a brief glance with Huo Jue, her lips curling into a smile, before turning to leave.

As soon as she was out of sight, Jiang Ling cleared his throat and leaned closer to Huo Jue, speaking in a low voice. “Brother Huo Jue, don’t worry. Today was a fluke. I won’t let Ah Li deliver lunch tomorrow—she won’t disturb you again.”

Huo Jue fell silent, unsure how to respond.

Jiang Li, meanwhile, took the path on the other side of the bamboo grove. Deep within the forest, Xue Zhen stood watching her retreating figure, her expression unreadable.

“Find out who that girl is,” Xue Zhen said softly, her tone laced with cold determination.

Sui Yun, her maid, followed her gaze with a sneer. “From her clothes, it’s obvious she’s just some country girl. Miss, you don’t need to—”

“Why are you talking so much?” Xue Zhen cut her off, her voice sharp and icy. “Do you think it’s your place to tell me what to do?”

Realizing her mistake, Sui Yun immediately slapped herself hard across the mouth and pleaded, “Miss, I was wrong.”

Xue Zhen, however, ignored her. She lowered her gaze, hiding the storm of emotions brewing in her eyes. After a moment, her usual poised elegance returned.

Unaware that she had drawn anyone’s ire, Jiang Li returned home, grabbed a few silver coins, and headed straight to Dongyang Bookstore to find her friend Liu Yan.

“What? You want to practice calligraphy?” Liu Yan asked, raising an eyebrow in surprise. “You’ve always hated writing. Why the sudden interest?”

Jiang Li answered honestly, “I just want to immerse myself in the world of books.”

Liu Yan studied her for a moment before covering her mouth with a handkerchief to stifle a laugh. “You’re doing this for Mr. Huo, aren’t you?”

Jiang Li didn’t deny it. She nodded matter-of-factly.

In the past, Liu Yan had been the most scholarly woman Jiang Li knew. But after seeing Miss Xue at the academy, Jiang Li realized there were women even more accomplished and refined.

Huo Jue was destined to leave Tong’an City for Shengjing to take the imperial exams. With his talent and charm, who knew how many noble ladies would vie for his attention there?

Unlike other places, the capital was home to countless refined and intelligent women, all far superior to the likes of Miss Xue.

Jiang Li couldn’t bear the thought of Huo Jue looking down on her someday for not being cultured enough, not even able to carry out the role of a scholarly companion.

Liu Yan sighed, seeing Jiang Li’s resolve. “Yingying and I gave up on Mr. Huo long ago, but you still won’t let it go. Fine. If you want to practice calligraphy, I’ll help you.”

“Ah Yan, you’re the best!” Jiang Li exclaimed, hugging her tightly.

For the next two hours, Jiang Li practiced calligraphy alongside Liu Yan. Even after returning to the tavern, she didn’t stop. Balancing her time between brewing wine and writing, she diligently copied characters from Thousand Characters. Her efforts produced crooked lines, but she persisted.

Jiang Ling couldn’t believe his eyes.

Growing up, their father had always tried to make them practice calligraphy, but Ah Li would slip away at the first opportunity. To her, writing had always been a chore, something to be avoided at all costs.

He wondered what had prompted this sudden change.

Finally, after observing her for several days, Jiang Ling turned to Huo Jue with a puzzled expression. “Brother Huo Jue, what’s gotten into Ah Li? She’s so passionate about calligraphy, it’s like she’s aiming to top the imperial exams!”

Huo Jue’s gaze flickered briefly.

His sharp mind quickly pieced everything together.

That afternoon, Huo Jue left the academy early and waited for Jiang Li outside the bookstore.

When Jiang Li emerged, she spotted him standing under a peach tree, tall and straight like a pine.

She paused in her tracks, her heart skipping a beat.

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TPMCS(rebirth) 6 - The rumored Huo Dugong

 Huo Jue spent only half an hour at the escort agency.

After he left, Sun Ping carefully placed the wax-sealed bamboo letter container into a wooden box secured with a mechanical lock.

He Yong, the second-in-command, entered the room just in time to see Sun Ping’s unusually solemn expression as he stored the letter. Curious, he asked, “Another delivery request? Where’s this one headed?”

Sun Ping glanced at him and replied, “The Duke of Dingguo’s Mansion—the Xue Family.”

He Yong drew in a sharp breath. “The Xue Family!”

Sun Ping nodded, pulling out a small, intricately carved wooden qilin from his sleeve. He thought back to what Huo Jue had said before leaving:

"From Tong’an to Shengjing, you’ll pass through Baishui Village. That place is crawling with bandits and a nightmare for escort agencies. If you run into trouble, use this wooden carving to negotiate your safety."

Despite his youth—barely twenty—the boy's words carried an unshakable confidence.

Sun Ping examined the qilin before slipping it back into his sleeve. For now, he decided to trust Huo Jue.

After leaving the Longsheng Escort Agency, Huo Jue didn’t return to the Su family pharmacy right away. Instead, he stopped by a large medicine shop and purchased a significant amount of Adenophora apricotii.

Although not as valuable as ginseng or deer antler, the herb was rare due to its difficult cultivation requirements. Fortunately, the shopkeeper was a close friend of Su Bo’s and discreetly sold most of his stock to Huo Jue.

Once he paid, the purse Jiang Li had given him was empty. Huo Jue traced the orchid embroidery on the purse with his fingertips and smiled faintly.

If Ali wants to support me, then let her support me, he thought. As long as it makes her happy, I don’t mind being her kept man for the rest of my life.

-

When Huo Jue returned to Zhufu Street, he noticed a small figure sitting by the side door of the pharmacy.

Jiang Li had her hair styled into two buns and had changed into fresh clothes: a crescent-white double-breasted jacket and a light purple cotton skirt. Though the fabric was simple and the colors modest, they did little to hide her beauty.

Her skin was as creamy as jade, her eyes gleamed like lacquer, and her lips held a natural redness. She radiated a delicate yet striking charm.

Jiang Li was idly counting ants on the ground when a shadow fell over her. A familiar voice, clear and melodious like pearls dropping onto a jade plate, spoke above her: “Ali, what has your attention so captivated?”

Startled, she quickly picked up a food box from beside her and stood. “Nothing! I wasn’t looking at anything. Where did you go? I knocked on the door earlier, but no one answered, so I waited here.”

“I went to buy medicine for Uncle Su,” Huo Jue replied, his long fingers effortlessly hooking the food box from her hands. “Is this something Ali made for me?”

“Yes,” Jiang Li said with a smile. “I made red bean cakes, Poria cocos cakes, and a yam cake for Old Man Su. It’s still warm.”

After a pause, she looked into Huo Jue’s dark eyes and added with mock seriousness, “You did well today. But remember, if other young ladies ever try to give you things, you must refuse them confidently. Anything they can give you, I can give you too.”

Making purses, tying cords, or even pricking her fingers while embroidering? She could handle all of it, and she’d do it better.

Huo Jue’s long lashes lowered slightly, and a faint glimmer flashed in his deep, dark eyes. “I understand. From now on, I’ll only accept things from Ali.”

Though he usually carried himself with a cool, reserved demeanor, Huo Jue’s warm expression at that moment was utterly disarming.

Jiang Li felt her heart racing wildly, threatening to leap out of her chest. Even when he was stoic, he had a magnetic charm that captivated countless young women. Now, with his softer side on display, he was simply irresistible.

Huo Jue looked down at Jiang Li, her eyes glistening with emotion. A deeper intensity flickered in his gaze, and even the corners of his eyes seemed to carry a faint, mesmerizing flush of red.

With graceful fingers, he brushed a loose strand of hair away from her cheek, tucking it gently behind her ear. In a soft voice, he said, “Ali, I’ve decided on a reward for my first-place finish in the exam.”

Jiang Li blinked, startled.

She had asked him earlier what he wanted as a reward, but Huo Jue had brushed it off, saying he would let her know later. She had assumed it would take him days to decide, yet here he was, bringing it up now.

“What is it?” she asked hesitantly.

Her tone carried a trace of guilt. When she returned to the tavern at noon, she had counted her savings—a meager few dozen coins. She doubted she could afford anything truly nice for him.

Thinking quickly, she suggested, “If you’re not in a hurry, could it wait until after Old Madam Chen’s birthday banquet—”

“Ali,” Huo Jue interrupted, setting the food box aside. He looked at her steadily and said softly, “Close your eyes.”

Close my eyes?

Jiang Li’s heart skipped a beat. What kind of reward required her to close her eyes? Could it be... that he wanted to kiss her?

Her pulse raced wildly as she glanced around. They were standing at the end of the street, near the Su family pharmacy. Behind them was a quiet wall, and the pharmacy had long since closed for the day. No one would come by at this hour.

Her face warmed at the thought, and she tugged at Huo Jue’s sleeve, hesitating briefly before shyly closing her eyes.

But after waiting for what felt like forever, the only thing she felt was a light breeze brushing past her ear.

“All done,” his deep voice finally broke the silence.

Jiang Li opened her eyes, confused. “That’s... it?”

Huo Jue nodded slightly, his expression calm. After a pause, he asked, “What did Ali think I was going to do?”

Her cheeks flushed as she avoided his gaze. “Nothing! You still haven’t told me what reward you wanted.”

Huo Jue picked up a soft strand of her black hair, letting it slide through his fingers as a faint smile appeared on his lips. “The reward I wanted... Ali has already given it.”

-

Though Jiang Li thought about it endlessly, she couldn’t figure out what he meant. She had no idea that the "reward" Huo Jue wanted was a lock of her hair.

In her previous life, Huo Jue had been the subject of countless rumors after rising to power in the palace.

It was said that this stunningly handsome yet enigmatic official was a demon in human guise.

Some whispered that his bed was as cold as a tomb and that he slept surrounded by corpses.

Others claimed he owned a pitch-black whisk, glossier than lacquer, which he treated as a treasured possession. According to the tales, a palace maid who accidentally touched it lost her hand moments later.

In hushed voices, people speculated that the whisk wasn’t a whisk at all—it was made from a young girl’s hair.

The madman Huo Dugong, they said, used a girl’s hair to craft his prized whisk. He couldn’t fall asleep without holding it.

No one knew whether these stories were true, but one fact was undeniable: Huo Jue had an obsession with a strand of soft black hair.

That night, in his quiet room, Huo Jue sat cross-legged on his bed. He held the strand of hair in his palm, his fingertips tracing its softness as his dark eyes grew heavier with emotion.

He didn’t know how long he sat there. When the lights finally dimmed, he closed his eyes and drifted into a deep, dream-filled sleep, the lock of hair still resting in his hand.

-

The next morning, Jiang Li was jolted awake by her mother, Yang Huiniang.

“Didn’t you say you were going to deliver cakes to Old Madam Chen today? Get up already!”

Jiang Li rubbed her eyes, yawning as she replied, “I know, Mother.”

After getting ready and stepping outside, Yang Huiniang gave her an appraising look. She reached out to touch a section of Jiang Li’s hair near her ear and frowned. “Why does it look like someone cut a chunk of your hair off?”

Jiang Li tilted her head and shrugged. “Maybe it snagged on something in the mountains yesterday.”

Yang Huiniang’s face darkened. “You’ve been running around the mountains like a wild monkey again? You’re almost old enough for marriage! Stop being so reckless, or no one will want you.”

Jiang Li bit back her retort, thinking to herself, I wasn’t a wild monkey in Qingtong Mountain yesterday. I was a little fairy, thank you very much.

Despite her inner complaints, she simply bowed her head and let her mother scold her in peace.

After breakfast, Jiang Li headed to the kitchen to prepare snacks for Old Madam Chen’s birthday banquet.

The elderly often preferred soft, sweet treats, and Old Madam Chen was no exception. Since tasting Jiang Li’s handmade cakes, she refused to eat anyone else’s.

Jiang Li steamed milk cakes, cloud cakes, and jujube paste cakes. She also packed more than ten small cups of fruit wine in various flavors, intending to let Old Madam Chen sample them.

As she stepped out of the house, Jiang Li couldn’t help glancing in the direction of the medicine shop.

It was nearly nine o’clock—Huo Jue must have already left for the academy. She sighed, shook her head, and began her walk toward the Yuanwai Mansion in the eastern part of the city.

This wasn’t Jiang Li’s first time visiting the Yuanwai Mansion. As she approached the side gate, two maids were already waiting for her.

These maids, Bihong and Bilan, were Old Madam Chen’s closest attendants. Known for their pride, they were difficult to impress.

Jiang Li greeted them sweetly, “Sister Bihong, Sister Bilan.”

Bihong, dressed in a pink skirt, chuckled and playfully tapped Jiang Li’s nose. “I haven’t seen you in days, and your sweet words have only gotten better.”

Jiang Li grinned and pulled two small cups of fruit wine from her food box. “This is my latest batch of fruit wine. Please give it a try!”

Bihong accepted it eagerly. “Now I know why Bilan and I always compete to meet you—it’s for the snacks!”

Bilan rolled her eyes. “Speak for yourself. I’m here because I like Ali, not for the treats.”

The three of them laughed and chatted as they made their way to Rong’an Hall, where Old Madam Chen awaited.

The hall was filled with a faint sandalwood fragrance, reflecting Old Madam Chen’s devotion to Buddha.

When Jiang Li entered, she performed a respectful bow. “Greetings to the Old Madam.”

Old Madam Chen’s eyes sparkled with affection. “Rise, dear child. What’s been keeping you so busy lately? I haven’t seen you at the mansion in days.”

Jiang Li placed the lunch box on the table, opened it, and carefully took out the snacks and bottles of fruit wine inside. With a bright smile, she said, “I’ve been busy brewing wine lately. These fruit wines were prepared more than half a year ago, and now they’re just right for drinking—sweet, refreshing, and not greasy. I thought the old lady might enjoy them, so I brought some for you to try.”

Hearing this, Old Madam Chen raised her hand, and a maid stepped forward to take one of the bottles. The maid uncorked it, and an enticingly rich, sweet plum aroma wafted out, filling the room.

The maid poured a small amount of the fruit wine into a delicate cup, its size just fitting in the palm of a hand. The old lady took a sip, her eyes narrowing in delight as the sweet-and-sour flavor spread across her palate.

Nodding with satisfaction, she said, “You’re always so thoughtful. My birthday is approaching, and this fruit wine will be perfect for the celebration. I’ll have Butler Li assist you with any further preparations.”

This was exactly why Jiang Li had come in person. She bowed with a smile and said, “Thank you, Old Madam.”

When Jiang Li left Rong’an Hall, she carried not only a heavy pouch of reward money but also a finely carved white jade Ruyi buckle.

The buckle’s intricate craftsmanship made it evident that it was a valuable gift. As Jiang Li held it, an idea sparked in her mind—once Huo Jue finished his exams, she would use it to make a custom belt for him. She was certain he would love it.

The thought brought a soft smile to her lips.

She lingered briefly by the withered lotus pond. Her snow-white skin seemed to glow in the sunlight, and her graceful beauty gave new life to the dreary surroundings. Even the dried lotus and fallen leaves seemed brighter against the vivid charm she exuded.

Not far away, a man in luxurious clothing stood quietly, watching her smile. For a moment, he seemed lost in thought.

Jiang Li, immersed in her musings, hadn’t noticed his presence. It wasn’t until Bihong suddenly stopped walking that Jiang Li snapped out of her thoughts.

Following her maid’s gaze, Jiang Li looked up and saw a young man standing on the other side of the lotus pond. He wore a white robe adorned with an elegant bamboo pattern, exuding an air of refinement.

He seemed familiar to Jiang Li. Before she could place him, Bihong dropped to her knees and greeted him respectfully, “This servant greets the eldest young master.”

At that moment, Jiang Li remembered who he was: Zhang Heng, the eldest son of Master Zhang. She had seen him from a distance a few times during her previous visits to the mansion.

Realizing this, she quickly lowered her gaze and performed a proper bow. “Greetings, Eldest Young Master.”

Zhang Heng’s eyes lingered briefly on her lowered face before he spoke gently, “Miss Ali, there’s no need to be so formal.”

Bihong, standing nearby, blushed and teased him with a playful glare. “Why hasn’t the eldest young master told me to get up?”

Zhang Heng smiled helplessly. “If I don’t say it, would you really stay kneeling?”

“Of course not,” Bihong replied with a light laugh before standing. She added cheerfully, “The eldest young master must be here to pay his respects to the old lady. She’s inside—please go ahead! I’ll escort Ali to the butler and return shortly.”

Zhang Heng nodded with a faint smile and turned to leave. Before walking away, however, his gaze flickered toward Jiang Li again, almost imperceptibly.

-

When Zhang Heng entered Rong’an Hall, Old Madam Chen glanced at him with a knowing expression. She chuckled and said teasingly, “You’re quite well-informed.”

Zhang Heng knew his intentions couldn’t escape his grandmother’s sharp eyes. Smiling warmly, he admitted, “Your grandson apologizes for his lack of subtlety.”

Their exchange, though cryptic, carried a familiarity that left the maids in the room baffled.

Soon after, Old Madam Chen instructed one of the servants to bring Zhang Heng a plate of snacks that Jiang Li had delivered.

Zhang Heng rarely indulged in sweets, but today, he took a bite of the cloud cake with an uncharacteristic seriousness.

Seeing this, Old Madam Chen’s smile deepened. After a moment, she said softly, “If you pass the provincial examination this time, your grandmother will make sure your wish comes true.”

Zhang Heng’s face lit up with joy. Rising to his feet, he bowed deeply and said with genuine gratitude, “Thank you, Grandmother.”

 

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