Chapter Eleven: Flowery Words
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Marquis Chengwu felt an unusual pang of sorrow upon seeing Zhao Xianzhi reveal such a rare and wounded expression. His heart ached deeply. Had he ever seen his son like this before? Though his son was a martial man, his demeanor always bore the elegance befitting a noble young master.
Unable to restrain himself, he softened his voice and questioned, “Why did you deliberately conceal this? What is your intention?”
“Your Lordship!” Before Zhao Xianzhi could answer, Lady Hou sprang up and knelt beside him with a swift step.
Seeing their once bright and noble son in such a state, how could a mother bear it?
She wept aloud, “It was all my doing that Xianzhi kept this hidden! He is our proud legitimate son; no matter what, he is the child we have raised for eighteen years!”
Meng Zhenyue, who had silently stood by, had believed that having seen through Lady Hou’s true nature in a past life, she would not be troubled by this stark difference in Lady Hou’s defense of Zhao Xianzhi. Yet, even with such clarity, the heart could not help but feel the sting of disappointment.
No matter; Lady Hou was generous by nature, and silver could soothe such wounds.
Suddenly, Lady Hou seemed to remember something in her haste, and anxiously said, “Mid-June... yes, next month marks the once-every-six-years martial examination. This is crucial for a military family. Xianzhi is the Marquis’s most promising candidate for the top spot. I implore Your Lordship to reconsider.”
Upon hearing this, Meng Zhenyue’s heart skipped, her fists clenched tightly in secret, and her resentment toward Zhao Xianzhi deepened.
In her previous life, it was indeed at the martial examination in mid-next month that Zhao Xianzhi had claimed the title of Martial Champion—but only by stepping on her elder brother’s achievement.
Zhao Xianzhi had sensed hostility against him at the arena; rather than simply avoiding it, he had schemed to have her elder brother bear the brunt of the sabotage.
After uncovering the true culprit, he had sought justice for the elder brother.
With the higher-ranking brother and the saboteur both withdrawn, Zhao Xianzhi rose into the top three, and the examiners ultimately awarded him the championship.
She was about to speak up when she noticed Zhao Zhizhi, who had been dazed for a long moment nearby, break into tears and kneel beside Lady Hou.
This marked her as somewhat different, yet Meng Zhenyue remained upright, bearing that same wounded expression on her face without shame.
“Father, please calm your anger. Big brother did not intend to do harm; he just can’t bear to part with his sister, that’s why... that’s why he acted like this,” Zhao Zhizhi sobbed bitterly.
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Big brother is a man—Mother always said he is the future of the household, our shield and protector. Surely the Meng family will bring him back.
If the Meng family insists on taking one child away... then... then I cannot be without big brother...
Overcome with sorrow, Zhao Zhizhi frantically searched her mind for something to leverage against her father, hastily stifling her tears as she pleaded, “Please, please Father, let big brother stay. I have accompanied big brother since childhood. If anything happens to him, I will be... heartbroken and unable to participate in the embroidery selection at the Princess Jingyi’s embroidery institute.”
Hearing Zhao Zhizhi’s choked voice, long-dormant memories surged into Meng Zhenyue’s mind like a flood breaking through a dam.
In her past life’s embroidery competition, the cousin who favored Zhao Xianzhi had sabotaged her embroidery and then even stepped forward to accuse Zhao Zhizhi falsely.
As a result, neither Zhao Zhizhi nor Meng Zhenyue—who had ranked higher than the cousin—were selected, and they became infamous throughout the capital.
Meanwhile, the cousin gained entry.
Hearing the mention of the martial examination and embroidery selection, Marquis Chengwu’s heart softened further.
This was a perfect opportunity to prove to Emperor Jinghe that the Chengwu Marquisate was worthy of the heir’s title once more.
The servants present surely whispered among themselves, imagining how utterly exposed Zhao Xianzhi must feel kneeling there.
He felt as if he were stripped bare for all to see.
He knew this time he had made a strategic misstep, yet he could not understand why Meng Zhenyue insisted on opposing him so fiercely.
Did the truth matter that much?
Was it impossible that, as the Marquis’s son, he would not harm her?
Why must she create such a formidable rival as himself? What benefit could that possibly bring her?
As Zhao Xianzhi fumed with anger and shame, he heard the pleas of his mother and sister, and a faint, barely perceptible smile curved his lips.
He had already devised a flawless plan while the women raged, yet he wondered what feelings stirred in Meng Zhenyue’s mother and sister as they sided with him despite her efforts.
Collecting himself, Zhao Xianzhi spoke resolutely, “I know Father and Your Lordship love me dearly. I understand the predicament of the Marquisate and that its bloodline must not be confused.”
Marquis Chengwu paused at the title “Your Lordship,” a flicker of surprise crossing his face, but before melancholy could settle, Zhao Xianzhi’s next words reignited the fury in his gaze.
If he knew all this and still willfully defied it—
Did he take them for fools, thinking he would not be discovered, to act so recklessly?
He was eager to hear what fabrications he might spin next.
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As Marquis Chengwu’s anger surged, Zhao Xianzhi, unabashed, gave a self-mocking smile and said, “Because the Marquisate’s bloodline must not be questioned, I have suppressed my grievances and said nothing. I do not claim great talent, but among the Marquisate’s descendants, my younger brother and uncle are less capable of bearing this heavy responsibility than I am.”
“The Marquisate’s current plight worries me. I fear that a hundred years from now, the Chengwu Marquisate may cease to exist. When that day comes, how will the Meng family, mere commoners, save it?” As he spoke, a single clear tear fell to the ground.
Hearing this, Marquis Chengwu’s anger abruptly ceased, replaced gradually by overwhelming shame.
He was an old man now, less thoughtful than his children.
Indeed, if the heirship could not be granted, at this rate, the Marquisate’s title might very well die with him.
Yes, Zhao Xianzhi was truly the best candidate to lead the Marquisate in the future...
Zhao Xianzhi continued, eyes moist, glancing down just as Lady Hou and Zhao Zhizhi, unable to contain their emotions, embraced him with a sudden sob.
But with only a glance, he lowered his eyes in shame, a faint loneliness shadowing his expression.
“I also have selfish reasons. I cannot bear to part from my loving mother, and I fear that if my sister learns my surname is Meng, she will... will never be close to me again.”
Hearing this, Zhao Zhizhi rushed to embrace Zhao Xianzhi, crying breathlessly and incoherently, “Even if big brother were a cat or a dog, I would not despise him. I would be close to him, kiss him day and night, feed him myself, brush his fur, and share my food with big brother.”
Zhao Xianzhi nearly broke down, patting Zhao Zhizhi gently before looking up with regretful eyes toward Meng Zhenyue a few paces away.
“As for the Meng family, though I have not acknowledged them publicly, in my heart, I do. Sister, please do not think I am cold-hearted.”
Then he turned to his personal attendant, “Beilie, this concerns the Meng family. Send for my elder brother from the side chamber.”
Meng Zhenyue recalled that Meng Huai Chuan, her elder brother, had followed her into the capital out of concern and was now lodged in Zhao Xianzhi’s courtyard’s side chamber by friendly invitation.
Watching and listening to Zhao Xianzhi’s heartfelt performance, she thought to herself: truly, this is someone who could spin everyone around his finger—what a pity he never joined the Southern Music Troupe.
Surely Zhao Xianzhi would call his brother over to stage yet another act.
In her past life, at this very moment, her brother still held some affection for Zhao Xianzhi.
She blamed herself for not finding a moment to speak with her brother this afternoon.