This moment was just right.
She had wanted to say these words for a long time, but never had the opportunity, nor anyone to say them to.
Many people were mere acquaintances, fleeting encounters in her life. Take Tenth Noble Son Ning and Jun Zhenzhen, for instance—they had little to do with her, let alone Princess Jiuli.
As for close family, Fang Chengyu was sharp as a demon and trusted her unquestioningly. She could almost picture his reaction when he heard these words—springing up in shock.
"I greet Princess Jiuli!" he would exclaim excitedly. This excitement wouldn't be exaggerated or joking; it would be earnest.
But her past had nothing to do with him. To him, Princess Jiuli was a stranger. What he was familiar with was the Miss Jun standing before him now.
As for Princess Jiuli's relatives, such as Jiuli and Jiurong, if she were to tell them, they would be astonished. Maybe they'd believe her, but it would mostly perplex them. After all, they were familiar with Princess Jiuli, while the Miss Jun before them was a stranger.
And then there was Zhu Zan—things were rather coincidental in his case. He seemed familiar with Princess Jiuli, and yet also familiar with Miss Jun.
Miss Jun looked at Zhu Zan, who was facing inward.
"Zhu Zan," she said, "I am Princess Jiuli."
...
...
A person was dragged and thrown out of the door, which promptly slammed shut behind them.
"I hadn't even finished applying medicine for you!" Miss Jun turned around and said toward the inside.
"I lived this long even without you," Zhu Zan's deep voice retorted from within.
Miss Jun couldn't help but press her lips together in a smile.
Indeed, after she spoke those words, Zhu Zan neither showed surprise nor asked questions. Instead, he rose wordlessly and threw Miss Jun out the door.
This reaction, while unexpected, felt like the most natural one under the circumstances.
"I understand, but with me around, you could recover faster. After all, the situation in the capital is tense now, and your father needs you more than ever," Miss Jun said.
There was no response from within.
"Then let me at least tell you how to use these medicines before I leave, alright?" Miss Jun said again.
Footsteps sounded, and the door opened. Zhu Zan appeared, his chest partially covered by an outer robe, his face dark with displeasure. He handed over a tray of medicines.
Miss Jun didn't hesitate, pointing out one by one which were to be ingested and which were for external use.
After explaining, she looked up at Zhu Zan again.
"I'll prepare some more medicine and have someone send it over," she said, pausing briefly. "Also…"
Zhu Zan glanced at her askance.
"I truly am Princess Jiuli," Miss Jun said, looking at him earnestly.
With a bang, the door slammed shut in her face.
"Jun姓妇人 (Lady Jun), know your limits and stop pushing too far," Zhu Zan's voice growled from within.
Miss Jun turned away, smiling lightly, and walked slowly down the lantern-lit corridor.
The wind brushed gently against leaves, mingling with faint floral and fruity scents. Lanterns dotted the surroundings, neither glaring nor desolate—the Duke Mansion's summer night was truly beautiful.
Summer nights in the capital were always beautiful.
Miss Jun couldn't help but stroll leisurely through the courtyard. It had been many years since she had admired a summer night in the capital. In her youth, she would only return during winters for the New Year. Later, the thought simply didn't cross her mind.
Logically, she shouldn't have the mood for this even now—her vengeance unresolved, her family unacknowledged. But perhaps having voiced those long-repressed words brought her an inexplicable sense of ease.
Miss Jun wandered slowly through the estate, eventually disappearing into the night.
...
...
Some favor the peace of nighttime, while for others, the night is livelier and more colorful than the day—especially the young.
The nights of Yangcheng couldn't compare to those of the capital, but they had their own charm. The streets were bustling, the air carried a faint whiff of rouge and powder, and the distant strains of silk and bamboo music drifted faintly.
It came from a glittering, opulent restaurant beside the street. The restaurant was filled with people, many dressed in luxurious robes, while nimble attendants and young maids moved about serving tea and wine. A dozen song-and-dance performers swayed gracefully to the music, creating an atmosphere like that of an Immortal Mansion.
Sitting at the head of the hall was a youth who seemed otherworldly, his attire exquisite. The grandeur of the setting neither overshadowed him nor made him appear vulgar; he stood out, both dazzling and pleasing to the eye.
"Young Master Fang, does this mean there's no problem with the northern business?" a middle-aged man asked, raising his cup toward him.
Fang Chengyu smiled.
"Of course there's a problem," he said sincerely.
The others exchanged glances, their expressions flickering.
"With Duke of Chengguo leaving the northern lands, and the Jurchen people pushing south into the heartlands, days will be anything but peaceful. Business won't be easy," Fang Chengyu continued.
Ah, so that's what it was. Several people laughed.
"People are saying De Sheng Chang's northern bank is losing money and about to shut down—it turns out it's not losing money but fearing losses," someone remarked.
"With so many esteemed gentlemen present, how could there be losses!" Fang Chengyu said cheerfully.
The mood in the room lightened considerably.
"Young Master, you don't understand. In the future, the northern lands will be even more profitable."
"Yes, with Duke of Chengguo around, many businesses were hard to conduct."
"Uncle Qinghe is quite skilled in business."
They exchanged murmured remarks and turned back to Fang Chengyu.
"So, Young Master, the northern bank must stay open."
Fang Chengyu nodded obediently.
"Since you gentlemen say there's money to be made, of course I'll be part of it. The northern bank will remain open," he said.
The hall grew even livelier, with everyone raising their cups. Fang Chengyu lifted his cup as well, though it held only clear water.
"I'm frail; I can only substitute water for wine," he said with a smile.
Everyone knew of Fang Chengyu's past condition as one who had nearly succumbed to illness. No one begrudged him this choice.
"We understand, it's already prepared." Someone laughed and signaled.
A charming maid immediately approached with a teapot to refill Fang Chengyu's cup.
The music and dancing in the hall grew more animated. After some time, Fang Chengyu rose and headed to the castration room (净房).
The castration room was set within the private dining booth. Fang Chengyu's servant boy followed and stood outside the door to wait, while the others paid no mind and continued drinking and laughing.
After several more rounds of drinking, one drunken person glanced over and noticed the empty spot.
"Where's Young Master Fang?" he asked.
The trip to the restroom had gone on too long. Only then did everyone react, turning to look toward the castration room—but there was no sign of Fang Chengyu's servant boy.
Had he already left?
"Young Master Fang?" someone called out, pushing the door open.
The castration room was no less luxurious than the private dining booth, its lamps burning brightly. Everyone's gaze immediately landed on the floor, where a figure lay sprawled as if asleep.
Black hair adorned with a jade binding, jeweled pins, and embroidered robes as magnificent as clouds—who else could it be but Fang Chengyu?
"Is he drunk?" someone murmured. Such scenes were common in restaurants. "But how could one get drunk drinking water?"
Others stomped their feet.
"Drunk? No! Something's happened!"
With those words, the entire restaurant descended into chaos.
...….
(Two chapters updated today.
Special thanks to Nan Fang's Bing Yi, ?The Last Shot?, 54554465, Nan Nan Zhu, Junzi Wu Qi, Ling Xiaoqi, LVlover, and Hetao Writer for their rewards. Thank you all.)