Qin Jingzhou could not yet read the thoughts of others, let alone Ling Jing, but as long as the two of them spent a little time and paid attention, they could accurately judge if someone harbored wicked intentions.
Ling Jing had already gone over all the staff in the marquis’ household. Those who raised suspicions were sent to the manor in batches, under the pretense of job transfers, but in truth as a means of labor re-education—after all, these ill-intentioned or outright spies from other factions, whether managers or servants, hadn’t yet acted or provided solid evidence of guilt; even Ling Jing couldn’t simply call for their heads.
As it happened, the manor that Guo Wanping was assigned to also contained several such “transferred” stewards with ulterior motives.
Sure enough, just as expected, something happened.
Qin Jingzhou and Ling Jing were sitting in the outer room, watching over Yan Duan, who had just taken medicine to induce vomiting and was now looking depleted and feeble.
A renowned physician skilled in detoxification had examined Yan Duan’s vomit and the contents of his room, reaching the same conclusion that Qin Jingzhou and Ling Jing already knew: “The third young master was most likely poisoned outside the marquis’ residence.”
Qin Jingzhou and Ling Jing thanked the Imperial Physician and signaled for the Grand Steward to lead the doctor to the next room to write a prescription.
The prescription was barely half-written when Guo Wanping arrived in a flurry with her Lady-in-waiting.
From the main gate of the marquis’ residence to Yan Duan’s courtyard, Guo Wanping had run the entire way. Sweat and tears had ruined her makeup. She certainly had no motive to harm Yan Duan.
Ling Jing waved her hand, gesturing that courtesy could be dispensed with. “Go inside and comfort Ah Duan.”
Guo Wanping still managed a formal curtsy before she rushed into the inner room.
Watching Guo Wanping's silhouette vanish at the door, Ling Jing finally spoke quietly, “I heard that Guo Sida suffered a certain injury and his mental state has been worrying these past six months, but he still has a few capable men in his hands.”
Qin Jingzhou’s reply came naturally, “His younger brother, the former Minister of War, is a sharp one. But since his own elder brother rebelled and actually drove out the Emperor, of course he had to go along or make things even worse.” He gave a laugh. “If Guo Sida had chosen a clean break instead of dragging it out, he would’ve died from complications of the infection by now. If he’d died suddenly, even with some bumps in the road, the one taking the throne would’ve been that capable younger brother of his.”
Ling Jing chuckled, “Right, and Guo Sida also has several sons. With Guo Sida unable to protect himself and internal factions fighting, there’s not much to fear from him for years to come. Duke Cheng'en, on the other hand, looks rather capable of self-preservation. Now that Emperor Yongning has been sidelined, once Empress Wang gives birth to a son, Duke Cheng'en will be poised to act: arranging for the Emperor to fade away and his son to remain. Of course, he’ll first be drowning in troubles when floods ravage the south over the next two years.”
Qin Jingzhou summed it up, “So you focus on farming, I focus on raising troops, and when the enemy’s weak we finish them off.”
The two of them bantered quietly in the outer room, while inside, Yan Duan and Guo Wanping were left staring wordlessly at each other, hands clasped tight.
Yan Duan was no fool, and the poison hadn’t affected his wits. As he endured the agony in his abdomen, he realized immediately that this was Guo Sida giving him a warning. He was also certain that Guo Sida had no intention of killing him directly—what he really wanted was to use poison to maintain long-term control over both him and Guo Wanping.
The moment Guo Wanping looked into Yan Duan’s bloodshot eyes and saw not a trace of blame, her heart eased… but then a wave of guilt hit her. “It’s all because of me! I’ve wronged you!”
Despite his fragile voice and weak tone, Yan Duan still tried to comfort her, “Don’t cry. I know this isn’t your fault. Later… just don’t hate my father or hate me.”
Guo Wanping answered firmly, “I’m grateful for everything both the Marquis and you have done for me! I never imagined, before I even replied, they’d lay a hand on you so ruthlessly. Just in those brief moments yesterday, when we were away checking the manor…”
Yan Duan nodded softly, “When you went to the privy, I accepted a cup of tea from the manor steward.”
At that moment, Yan Duan’s chief Lady-in-waiting entered, cradling a bowl of decoction that smelled thoroughly unpleasant.
Yan Duan managed a bitter smile, watching silently as Guo Wanping took the tray from the Lady-in-waiting’s hands, then composed himself and lifted the bowl, draining it in one gulp.
That concoction—within an instant, it seemed every flavor in life exploded on his tongue.
He hastily grabbed a handful of candied fruits from another Lady-in-waiting’s plate and stuffed them into his mouth. Thankfully, his reaction was quick or he’d have spat everything out right in front of Guo Wanping.
No doubt the medicine tasted vile, but its effects were remarkable.
Within a quarter-hour, Yan Duan was drowsy. Another quarter-hour later, he was already snoring softly.
One had to admit, Yan Duan’s snores sounded remarkably like a cat at its most contented, which was actually rather adorable. Seeing this, Guo Wanping finally managed a smile of her own, then lingered a moment to appreciate her beloved’s sleeping face before leaving the inner room.
She needed to freshen up and change clothes before she could tell the Marquis and Marchioness her "piece": although her beloved treasured her deeply and the Marquis and Marchioness had shown no signs of blame, to completely clear herself as well as draw a thorough line between herself and this “pitfall of a daughter” left by Guo Sida, she was determined.
Qin Jingzhou and Ling Jing had left Yan Duan’s courtyard as soon as Guo Wanping entered the inner room.
By the time Guo Wanping had changed and steeled her resolve to seek them out, the Prince’s Personal Guards fielded by Qin Jingzhou were probably already at their target location, ready for a purge.
To be honest, Qin Jingzhou really couldn’t bring himself to like Yan Duan, whose plotline was all about being a lovesick goody-goody, but nor did he harbor any bias against Guo Wanping.
When Guo Wanping dropped to her knees, shoulders trembling, and confessed that she had in fact lived another life, Qin Jingzhou only looked interested. “Oh? Why don’t you tell us in detail?”
Marquess Jingwen’s utter calm made Guo Wanping glance up cautiously. Before she could meet his gaze, she caught the Marchioness’s half-amused, half-smiling face and understood in an instant: so the Marchioness had also used rebirth as an excuse. No wonder Marquess Jingwen wasn’t surprised.
She silently rehearsed the statement she’d prepared and, finding nothing amiss, started her account as planned, telling them how the previous life saw Marquess Jingwen assassinated, Yan Jun died soon after, Yan Yun went to any lengths for revenge, and Yan Duan inherited the family estate. During the chaos of war, Yan Duan saved her and Emperor Yongning, and she made sure not to omit how Guo Sida’s youngest son—her own brother—was the first to open the city gates, allowing rebel forces to take the city almost bloodlessly.
Throughout, Guo Wanping spoke in a quiet, even tone, making no effort to vindicate her “past self” or whitewash Yan Duan’s actions. Qin Jingzhou found this rather interesting.
Ling Jing blinked, half reminding, half teasing. “Sounds like being Empress Dowager didn’t go so smoothly in your last life, either.”
Guo Wanping bowed her head in silence, grumbling inwardly: I knew it. If you hadn’t told Marquess Jingwen the original plot line in advance, you’d never have married him so smoothly.
Grumbling done, she still answered, “That unfilial and unrighteous son of mine, after murdering Ah Duan—the man who raised and taught him with his own hands—also poisoned me, his meddlesome birth mother.”
Ling Jing tilted her head. “Well, he’s the son of Emperor Yongning and you, after all. Seems he truly inherited your talents.”
Guo Wanping jerked her head up, answering bluntly, “He’s Ah Duan’s son!”
Ling Jing’s eyes widened a little. In the version of the plot she’d received, Noble Consort Guo’s son was fathered by Emperor Yongning.
Qin Jingzhou chuckled, “Ah Duan may not be a filial son, but at least he’s a loving father—so he does have some redeeming qualities.”
All the color drained from Guo Wanping’s face. She had nothing to say to that.
Marquess Jingwen’s favorite child was always his daughter Yan Yun, then his eldest son Yan Jun. With Yan Duan, his attitude had always been one of distant neglect. So it was true that the Marchioness had already explained the plot. That the Marquis hadn’t, in a fit of rage, throttled Yan Duan was truly an act of forbearance. And considering Yan Duan had risked himself to save her, and that the Marquis hadn’t simply abandoned them both, she suddenly felt a chill creep up her neck—what a close call.
It was early spring at West Gate Pass, the weather still chilly. She’d broken into a sweat in the warm main house of the marquis’ residence, and when she stepped outside, the breeze woke her up even more.
No matter what, she’d delivered her token of allegiance and felt deeply relieved: Marquess Jingwen did have the bearing of a true leader, unlikely to let a small figure like her trouble his mind.
By the time Guo Wanping returned to her own rooms and finally calmed down, Yan Duan in the next courtyard suddenly opened his eyes.
His face twisted in torment. His hands, clutching the edge of the quilt, were covered in bulging veins. As two sets of memories slowly fused, the air around him gradually relaxed. To have been murdered by his own son… perhaps even the heavens pitied him, for he’d actually come back.
Lying flat on his back, staring blankly at the ceiling, he felt as if a thousand vats of soy sauce had overturned in his heart—not just a jumble of emotions, but a dull ache in his chest.
He sat up abruptly, clutching at his heart. His mind wasn’t quite clear but he wanted desperately to see his father at once. If he waited to regain composure, he feared he would never again have the courage to bare everything face to face.
After rebirth, the state of one’s soul was naturally different from before. Generally speaking, the higher one’s cultivation, the less obvious this difference became—because the stronger the soul, the easier it was to conceal any traces. But no matter how much of a fate’s son Yan Duan was, he was still just a mortal.
So the moment he appeared, even though he’d said nothing, he’d already “blown his cover” in front of Qin Jingzhou and Ling Jing.
Truth be told, Qin Jingzhou and Ling Jing, while not quite exhausting themselves for the sake of the realm, were both rare to have even a moment of leisure.
Qin Jingzhou had a stack of official documents waiting for his approval, while Ling Jing was busy allocating improved seeds and new fertilizers. As the saying went, if you eat alone, you’ll rot—she couldn’t afford to disregard the thoughts of the local noble families. The matter of distribution really required careful deliberation.
So Qin Jingzhou glanced at this “filial” son, then lowered his eyes to his paperwork. “What is it you want to say?”
With a thud, Yan Duan fell to his knees. “Father! Your son has an important matter to report!” His meaning was clear: not only did he want those serving in the room to withdraw, he also requested that his stepmother excuse herself.
Ling Jing, hearing Yan Duan’s words, didn’t even bother to look up.
Qin Jingzhou instructed the Lady-in-waiting, the servants, and the Prince’s Personal Guards on duty in the study to leave. His tone never wavered. “What important matter? Don’t tell me you’ve also been reborn?”
Yan Duan: ...