Volume One, Chapter 15: Sowing Discord

Ye Jianxun’s expression remained calm as he spoke in a low voice, “I will arrange for rumors to be spread about Yu Changming and Mei Xinglingyi’s petty quarrels. Soon, these whispers will circulate widely. As long as Yu Changming and Mei Xinglingyi harbor resentment toward each other, General Zhenyuan will hesitate to take action against Marquis Dingyuan. At that moment, Marquis Dingyuan will obediently serve our purposes.”

Prince Ning cast an approving glance at him and said, “It seems you’ve been studying military strategy quite diligently lately.”

“Thanks to my father’s careful guidance,” Ye Jianxun replied humbly, bowing his head.

Prince Ning smiled. “You are indeed a talent to be shaped.” Then, shifting his tone, he asked, “Has Mei Lingxi shown any unusual behavior these past few days?”

“Mei Lingxi has never been close with Marquis Dingyuan. At today’s banquet, Marquis Dingyuan even downplayed Mei Lingyi’s harm as mere ‘petty squabbles.’ Mei Lingxi’s mood has sunk to its lowest, and she remains drunk to this day,” Ye Jianxun reported.

“You should seize this opportunity to get into her heart and make Mei Lingxi serve our interests,” Prince Ning advised, pausing briefly before adding, “And regarding heirs, remember to act swiftly.”

“Yes, Father,” Ye Jianxun answered respectfully, though deep inside he was filled with hesitation.

Returning once more to the side chamber, Ye Jianxun, lost in thought, passed behind the screen to find the figure on the bed slumped outward, half hanging off the edge, nearly falling. A twitch crossed his eyelid as he hurried forward to steady her, gently moving her back to the innermost part of the bed.

She was quite restless in sleep. He decided to sleep in the outer room to prevent her from falling again.

At dawn, as the first light crept in, Mei Lingxi slowly awoke, furrowing her delicate brows as she pressed her hands against her throbbing forehead. “What has happened to me? Why does my head ache so fiercely?”

Bishui brought her a bowl of sobering soup. “Young Mistress, you were drunk last night. Drink this to ease your headache.”

“I actually got drunk?” Mei Lingxi, now dressed, rose from bed in surprise.

It had been about five years since she last lost herself to drink.

“Indeed,” Bishui said with a sly smile, recounting the events of the previous night. “It was the Young Master himself who carried you back to the manor.”

Bishui teased as she clung to Ye Jianxun’s hand, embellishing the story before stifling a laugh. “You should have seen the Young Master’s ears—they were so red, it looked as though they might bleed.”

Mei Lingxi had not only drunkenly lost control but also made a fool of herself. She felt deeply embarrassed and resolved to feign ignorance when she next met Ye Jianxun.

After freshening up, Ye Jianxun entered, clad only in a light garment reflecting the moonlight, a sword in hand, a thin sheen of sweat on his brow—clearly he had been practicing swordsmanship at dawn.

Mei Lingxi thought to herself, what perseverance.

“We’ll return home after breakfast,” Ye Jianxun said before heading to the washroom.

A knock came at the door. Bishui opened it to reveal Yu Changming standing outside.

Yu Changming was half a head taller than Mei Lingxi, robust and muscular, his chest defined beneath his dark skin, lips full.

“Young Mistress, I do not wish to disturb, but I would like to speak with the Young Master.”

“The Young Master is bathing now. Please come in and wait,” Mei Lingxi replied politely.

“Very well.” Yu Changming entered, cast a quick glance around, and sat down.

Bishui poured him tea, but he held the cup without drinking, staring fixedly out the window.

Mei Lingxi had no desire for idle chatter either, so they sat silently until Ye Jianxun emerged from the washroom.

“Young Master,” Mei Lingxi said, standing and stretching her numb legs, “Yu Gongzi wishes to speak with you.” She then left the room, giving them space.

Yu Changming looked up and scrutinized Ye Jianxun thoroughly, disdain flickering in his eyes as he thought, a mere boiled chicken.

“What is it you wish to say?” Ye Jianxun poured himself tea and noticed Yu Changming’s cup was empty but no refill was offered.

“I know you have long been infatuated with Lingyi, but she does not reciprocate. Otherwise, she would not have fled the day before the wedding. Now that the emperor has decreed the marriage, I urge you to cease pursuing her.”

Ye Jianxun leisurely finished his tea, smiling lazily, his demeanor calm and composed, betraying no hint of sorrow.

Yu Changming, impatient by nature, was enraged by his indifference. “Surely you understand plain talk?”

Ye Jianxun did not answer but countered, “Though Lingyi and I have been betrothed for four years without a formal wedding, we corresponded often. Do you know what she called me in her letters?”

“Surely you jest?” Yu Changming scoffed. Mei Lingyi had told him that Ye Jianxun stalked her relentlessly and used Prince Ning’s influence to pressure the Dingyuan household, forcing her to accept the match. How could there have been any secret correspondence?

Ye Jianxun raised an eyebrow, producing a letter from his chest and placing it before Yu Changming. “I know you are devoted. Marriage is a serious matter. Perhaps you should truly get to know your fiancée.”

Yu Changming tore open the letter. At its beginning, she addressed him as “Jian Lang,” and at the end signed “Yi’er,” terms of endearment like lovers. The sight pierced his eyes with pain.

“How is this possible?!” Yu Changming clenched the letter tightly, wishing he could burn it to ashes.

“So, Lingyi is not indifferent to me,” Ye Jianxun said, lowering his eyes in feigned sorrow. “Perhaps she has simply grown weary of me.”

Yu Changming’s heart roiled like a storm.

Then, with a harsh laugh, he tore the letter apart. “Lingyi is the daughter of a noble house. Having one or two affairs before marriage is not a great scandal. Since you know she is tired of you, do not trouble her further. Destroy such letters; keep none.”

Ye Jianxun rose, walked behind him, and patted his shoulder lightly. “Don’t worry. Angered as I was, I burned the other two hundred letters.”

Two hundred letters?! Yu Changming’s face darkened as if it might drip water. Without another word, he stood and stormed out.

Mei Lingxi sat in the corridor outside for a while, glancing at the sky where thick clouds gathered, hinting at rain.

Yu Changming strode out with a scowl, passing by without greeting her. Mei Lingxi smiled slightly, thinking the conversation had clearly gone in Ye Jianxun’s favor.

The journey home.

Heavy raindrops pounded the carriage, creating a loud clatter.

Mei Lingxi loved the sound of rain, whether a gentle drizzle or a torrential downpour. Rain always lifted her spirits.

Ye Jianxun glanced at her, noting her eyes closed, lips curved in a slight smile. He, too, smiled faintly.

Suddenly, the carriage jolted to a halt, nearly throwing Mei Lingxi off balance.

“What’s wrong?” Ye Jianxun stood and drew back the curtain.

“Master, the carriage wheel is stuck in the mud. Please, Young Master and Young Mistress, step down while we clear the way. It will only take a moment,” the coachman explained.

Mei Lingxi, Bishui, and Ye Jianxun alighted. Fortunately, a nearby pavilion offered shelter, so they hurried there.