Chapter 39: Humiliation and Underhanded Tricks

Watching him ponder so seriously, Lin Xihe feared the ancient man’s brain might overheat. This was no different from explaining Earth’s rotation to someone from antiquity.

“I was just talking nonsense, don’t take it seriously.”

Yet Wen Zhixu pressed further: “I can comprehend your other points, but the term ‘Shua Dan’ eludes me. Would Miss Lin kindly clarify?”

“…” See? This is exactly how the child’s brain got fried from overthinking!

Passing by a stationery shop, Wen Zhixu went inside to browse while Lin Xihe waited outside with the dog.

The shop was quite busy, and Wen Zhixu was clearly a regular customer. Upon seeing him enter, the shop assistant hurriedly summoned the proprietor.

This scene inexplicably reminded Lin Xihe of those cliché scenarios where a domineering CEO brings an ordinary female lead into a luxury store: the CEO raising his hand and declaring, “Take down everything from that top row – I’ll take one of each color.”

She averted her gaze and turned to watch sparrows pecking at the ground.

“Miss Lin, please have a seat.”

“Huh?”

Lin Xihe was confused. Wasn’t Wen Zhixu the one shopping? Why was the assistant bringing out an official’s armchair for her? As she smoothed her skirt, a cup of fragrant tea was presented to her.

…She wasn’t the one buying brushes.

Blinking, she shifted her attention back inside the shop where Wen Zhixu was accepting a brush from the proprietor. The distance made their conversation inaudible.

Inside the shop, at the counter.

Proprietor: “Second Master Wen, this is the Squirrel Tail Hair brush you commissioned.”

Wen Zhixu rotated the teacup, the tart aroma wafting to his nose making his mouth water. Without drinking, he asked: “Besides hawthorn, what else was added to this tea?”

The proprietor paused briefly before replying: “As you instructed, we added hawthorn and dried tangerine peel to aid digestion.”

“Good.” Only then did Wen Zhixu accept the brush, examining it carefully. “Proprietor, you mentioned earlier… this was made from Squirrel Tail Hair?”

“Indeed. All hairs are taken from squirrel tails before winter, when the fur is at its thickest, making them ideal for brush-making. As you previously mentioned, Lord Xie would surely appreciate this as a gift.”

Wen Zhixu: “Do you have any squirrel tail fur remnants left?”

The proprietor was genuinely puzzled by this young master’s intentions. He hadn’t touched the digestion tea prepared per his request, and now he was inquiring about leftover fur.

Suddenly, the light beside her darkened as if someone had shaded her from the sun with an umbrella. Her dozing head slipped downward, jolting Lin Xihe awake.

“Hmm?” Looking up, she found Wen Zhixu already standing beside her.

He held a slender cloth-wrapped package, meticulously packaged – likely containing the brush he had just purchased.

“…Finished shopping?”

Lin Xihe rubbed her eyes, and when she lowered her hand, a fluffy pom-pom appeared before her. Shiny and plush, it looked charming, rather like a segment of golden-brown rabbit’s tail.

Wen Zhixu: “A complimentary gift with the brush. It’s useless to me, you may keep it.”

“How adorable!” Delighted, Lin Xihe accepted it, her fingers stroking the soft fur while thinking it resembled modern bag charms. “What fur is this made from?”

Wen Zhixu: “Squirrel.”

Lin Xihe suspected hidden meaning in his words. Earlier he had compared her eating habits to a squirrel hoarding food, and now he specifically gifted her a squirrel fur pom-pom.

Inside the stationery shop, the proprietor craned his neck, watching the two figures until they became mere ink dots against the white walls and black tiles, finally letting out a long sigh of relief.

At Second Master Wen’s earlier command, the shopkeeper had immediately ordered all brush artisans to cease their current work. These craftsmen were all master brush makers of the Ning Dynasty, now solely dedicated to crafting a single… small pompom for Second Master Wen.

It turned out the young master intended it to please that young lady.

Footsteps sounded from the side gate—likely the gatekeeper coming to answer. Lin Xihe hastily waved at Wen Zhixu: “I’m going in now.”

That impatient manner—was he an inconvenience? Was he some kind of disgraceful presence?

An inexplicable tightness in his chest welled up like a spring, rushing straight to his throat, making him blurt out: “Lin Xihe.”

“What is it?” Her fingertips had just touched the bronze knocker as her head snapped toward him like an arrow. The steps elevated her stature by half, with lingering laughter shimmering in her eyes.

After accompanying her all this way, Wen Zhixu finally voiced his true thoughts: “Might we reconsider the matter of the annulment?”

Recalling the Letter of Annulment he had delivered, Lin Xihe understood. So this was why he’d been cozying up to her lately.

Prestigious families valued dignity above all—annulment was no trivial matter, concerning the clan’s honor. As for betrothal gifts and such, Lin Xihe knew little about ancient customs.

“Alright,” she agreed readily. “We’re friends now, and covering for people is my specialty! I’ll handle keeping my father calm—you deal with your grandfather yourself.”

Otherwise, with them meeting daily at court, what if they argued heatedly and came to blows? If the emperor grew angry and decided to purge both families, what would they do?

Wen Zhixu’s thoughts veered entirely elsewhere, only feeling that vexation in his heart grow more pronounced: “Friends?”

When had he ever suggested becoming friends?

Lin Xihe, who had just stepped halfway across the threshold, swiftly pulled her upper body back, resembling a green bamboo stalk swaying in the wind.

She tilted her head in contemplation: “Do you want to be sisters instead?”

“…”

Commotion suddenly erupted at the alley’s entrance.

The Wen residence carriage led at a brisk pace, with another carriage close behind, showing signs of attempting to overtake.

Wen Zhixu had to pause his conversation with Lin Xihe and strode forward, calling out sternly to the coachman: “Halt!”

Unexpectedly, the Lin residence coachman behind them cracked his whip, startling the horses into rearing and recklessly cutting across.

Crash—the two carriages collided violently.

Lin Xihe stared in astonishment: Did ancient people have road rage too? This counted as dangerous driving!

Amidst exclamations, arguments, and footsteps… Wen Hongyuan alighted from his carriage.

“Grandfather?” Wen Zhixu stepped forward, raising an arm to assist. Though advanced in years, Wen Hongyuan moved with vigorous strides, heading straight for the Lin residence carriage and yanking open the curtain.

“Lin Zhaoheng! If you’re not dead, come out and face me!”

Wen Zhixu stood stunned: How could his ordinarily refined and dignified grandfather utter such blunt words?

His outstretched hand met empty air, but as he began to lower it, someone poked his arm. Wen Zhixu looked down to find Lin Xihe had drawn near unnoticed.

“This is your grandfather? What’s gotten into the old gentleman?”

Wen Zhixu: He hadn’t thought it peculiar before, but now he truly felt somewhat embarrassed.

“Likely due to opposing political views at court,” Wen Zhixu initially meant to explain this wasn’t uncommon.

Unexpectedly, Lin Xihe nodded vigorously as if comprehending deeply: “First time I’ve seen such dedicated workhorses so devoted to their jobs.”

“Workhorses?” Meaning dutiful dedication?

In a daze, Wen Zhixu watched as Lin Zhaoheng burst out of the carriage and seized the initiative, pinning Wen Hongyuan’s arms behind his back. Agitated, he exclaimed, “I’ll teach them to spout nonsense! Anyone who dares tarnish my daughter’s reputation will face my wrath!”

Wen Hongyuan was furious. “Step back! If I don’t teach Lin Zhaoheng a lesson today, I’ll resign from my post tomorrow!”

The prime minister’s authority was palpable even without anger. The servants froze, only Wen Zhixu stepping between the two men.

Separating two grappling grown men was no easy task. Just as Wen Zhixu nearly managed to pry them apart, the elder suddenly lifted his foot and kicked Lin Zhaoheng squarely in the crotch.

The latter’s legs buckled, stumbling to his knees as he spat out indignantly, “…A dignified prime minister resorting to such underhanded tricks!”

“Enough.” Wen Zhixu’s voice was soft but carried a chilling undertone.

The two combatants paid no heed, neither taking him seriously.

The man on the ground gritted his teeth and lunged forward, tearing off the other’s brocade waistband. The jade pendant attached to it flew to Lin Xihe’s feet.

Standing aloof, Lin Xihe bent down to pick up the pendant, holding it up to the light to examine the seal script characters engraved on it. Apologies, but being illiterate, she couldn’t recognize a single word.

As for whether the pendant belonged to Lin Zhaoheng or Wen Hongyuan, it didn’t matter—truly, it didn’t. What dignity remained when two high-ranking court officials were brawling at their own doorsteps?

The servants from both the Wen and Lin households watched in near despair, realizing the second young master was of no help. It was said Lord Lin heeded his eldest daughter’s advice most, so all eyes turned to the Lin family’s young lady.

Lin Xihe glanced at Wen Zhixu’s unnervingly calm profile, her heart inexplicably tightening. Beneath that tranquility, she sensed an eerie calm—like the stillness before an earthquake.

This is bad, she thought to herself.

No sooner had the thought crossed her mind than she saw Wen Zhixu step forward. He grasped Lin Zhaoheng’s wrist with one hand, murmuring “My apologies,” while his other hand deftly leveraged force to “hoist” Wen Hongyuan up from the ground.

Holding both men apart with his arms, he separated the entangled pair in an instant.

The surrounding servants stared in astonishment.

Lin Xihe’s eyes widened. “You know martial arts?!”

Beneath that refined and elegant appearance lay such swift and precise movements.

The situation shifted abruptly.

Wen Zhixu stood between the two men like an invisible dividing line. After regaining their senses, Wen Hongyuan, the current prime minister, and Lin Zhaoheng, the censor-in-chief, both felt deeply ashamed.

Seeing that neither man was seriously injured, the stewards from both households exchanged glances and signaled for the servants to retreat inside.

“Who has been spreading rumors about Miss Lin?” Wen Zhixu’s voice was clear and stern, like a judge presiding in court, causing both Lin Zhaoheng and Wen Hongyuan—despite their seniority—to feel an inexplicable tremor of fear.

Wen Hongyuan, having unjustly suffered several blows from Lin Zhaoheng, was full of grievances. “It wasn’t me! After court adjourned, I saw him arguing with Lord Zhao at the palace gates and kindly stepped in to mediate. Who would have thought Lin Zhaoheng would attack without asking for details…”

Wen Zhixu’s protective stance toward Lin Xihe eased Lin Zhaoheng’s heart somewhat—after all, he was her future father-in-law. Eagerly tugging at Wen Zhixu’s sleeve, he complained, “Your grandfather was just smoothing things over, offending neither side. But I won’t stand for it! Anyone who dares smear my He’er’s reputation, I’ll tear their mouth shut!”

“What slanderous rumors?” Wen Zhixu’s eyes darkened slightly.

Lin Zhaoheng: “They say she uses pigeon post and secretly digs tunnels…”

The air fell into dead silence.

The rumored protagonist herself rolled her dark eyes: Well, isn’t that true? Has this news already reached the ears of the civil and military officials at court?

“Father, what else?” Lin Xihe asked curiously, her voice soft as she pressed for more.

Lin Zhaoheng: “And you claim you secretly met with an outsider in the middle of the night!”

His words abruptly cut off as a heavy weight sank in Lin Zhaoheng’s chest. Damn, he had spoken carelessly. If the rumors were true, wasn’t he now revealing his own daughter’s secrets in front of her future husband?

The surrounding air fell into a deathly silence.

Wen Zhixu responded calmly, his tone carrying a hint of amusement: “Lord Lin, the ‘outsider’ you speak of appears to be none other than myself.”