Chapter 31: The Visit
Finally having coaxed the other into a better mood, Jiang Chenghan let out a sigh of relief. However, fearing he might say something wrong again and anger Yan Jingshu, he hesitated to speak further.
In the end, it was Yan Jingshu who broke the silence first, asking, "That merchant friend of yours, where is he from?"
Jiang Chenghan hurriedly replied, "He was originally from the capital, named Xi Muyuan. He left home in his early years to seek his fortune. Later, his family was convicted, their property confiscated, and they were exiled to Ningcheng as slaves. I once helped him when he was in trouble. To repay the kindness and seek protection for his family, he voluntarily gave me his deed of servitude and pledged his service. I looked into his family’s case, it wasn’t due to any heinous crime but rather because they offended a noble in the capital and were framed. At the time, I was short on funds, and seeing his expertise in business, we began working together."
"This time, when I escorted General Kou to the capital, he came with us, bringing many trade goods. He’s still in the capital now. Would you like to meet him?"
In his past life, Yan Jingshu had already known of Xi Muyuan. His question now was merely an excuse to see this person, so he nodded and said, "Very well."
Jiang Chenghan assumed Yan Jingshu simply wanted to meet his friend and immediately sent the servant Fang Ping to fetch Xi Muyuan from an inn in the West Market.
Since Xi Muyuan wouldn’t arrive immediately, and with Yan Jingshu finally speaking to him properly, Jiang Chenghan seized the opportunity to share some interesting anecdotes from his past, eventually managing to bring a smile back to Yan Jingshu’s face.
Amid their conversation, a maid suddenly came to report that someone named Mu had arrived at the front courtyard, claiming to be a friend of Yan Jingshu’s.
At first, Jiang Chenghan thought Fang Ping had brought Xi Muyuan. But after hearing the maid’s words, he instinctively looked at Yan Jingshu—and sure enough, saw him frown, his face filled with disgust and impatience.
Realizing Yan Jingshu likely didn’t want to see this person, Jiang Chenghan said, "Stay here. I’ll deal with him."
But Yan Jingshu shook his head and said, "Wait a moment. I’ll fetch something and go with you." With that, he stood up and walked to a cabinet in the corner, opening it to search for something.
Guessing that Yan Jingshu might have some other plan, Jiang Chenghan said nothing more. After Yan Jingshu found what he needed, they went to the front courtyard together.
Mu Tingyuan was slightly older than Yan Jingshu by two years. Handsome and noble in demeanor, he was a stark contrast to the drunken, ferocious figure Jiang Chenghan had first encountered. Now, wearing a jade crown and dressed in a sapphire-blue brocade robe, he appeared every bit the refined young gentleman. But Jiang Chenghan already knew he was nothing more than a rotten core beneath a gilded exterior—a despicable man undeserving of even a shred of goodwill.
"I’ve made myself perfectly clear to you. Why are you still here?" Yan Jingshu’s loathing for Mu Tingyuan had reached its peak, he couldn’t even spare a single polite word for him.
Mu Tingyuan frowned slightly, as if surprised that Yan Jingshu would show him no face at all. But he suppressed his temper and said, "Jingshu, what happened at Louwailou that day was my fault. I drank too much, and you were so cold to me—I lost control. I apologize and hope you can forgive me. For the sake of our years of friendship—"
"Shut up!" Yan Jingshu couldn’t bear to listen any longer and harshly cut him off, his eyes blazing with fury. "We were merely classmates for a few years, and I cut ties with you months ago. You and I have no relationship whatsoever. Now that I’m married, if you dare harass me again, don’t blame me for being ruthless."
Mu Tingyuan seemed wounded by Yan Jingshu’s merciless words, his face twisting in pain, but he persisted, "Jingshu, please believe me, my feelings for you are genuine. I know you’re married, but I don’t care—really. And you don’t need to worry about the imperial decree. My mother has already promised me that if you’re willing, she’ll ask the Emperor to revoke the marriage decree. Then we can finally be together—truly, just come with me..."
As he spoke, Mu Tingyuan stepped forward, reaching out to grab Yan Jingshu’s hand, but Jiang Chenghan, who had been watching him coldly, intercepted him.
"Talk if you want to talk. Keep your hands to yourself." Gripping Mu Tingyuan’s wrist tightly, Jiang Chenghan spoke icily, his expression unreadable.
This man had once assaulted his spouse and now had the audacity to openly covet him in front of him. If not for the fact that Yan Jingshu seemed to have some plan, Jiang Chenghan would have already thrown him out by force.
Mu Tingyuan felt a sharp pain in his wrist, as if his bones were being crushed. His face instantly paled, and he struggled desperately to break free, but Jiang Chenghan’s grip was like iron—unyielding.
Mu Tingyuan’s servants rushed to his aid, but Jiang Chenghan kicked them away effortlessly.
With no other choice, Mu Tingyuan gritted his teeth and spat, "Jiang, you dare hurt me? Do you even know who I am? Release me now, kneel, and beg for forgiveness—or I’ll make sure you regret this!" His voice dripped with venom.
Jiang Chenghan sneered. Of course he knew who Mu Tingyuan was—the son of the Duke of Zhenguo and the Eldest Princess, the Emperor’s own nephew. But so what? Whether it was making a man suffer unimaginably without leaving a single mark or making someone vanish without a trace, neither was difficult for him.
He had never hesitated to eliminate threats to himself or those he cared about, nor did he care if his hands were stained with blood.
With a thud, Mu Tingyuan collapsed to his knees, drenched in cold sweat, his wrist already swelling and turning purple under Jiang Chenghan’s grip.
Realizing that Jiang Chenghan didn’t fear his threats—and that no matter how he retaliated later, Jiang Chenghan could cripple him right then—Mu Tingyuan finally broke under the pain, fear, and humiliation of being forced to kneel. "...L-Let go! I won’t—won’t touch him again—"
Seeing Mu Tingyuan give in so quickly, Jiang Chenghan couldn’t hide his disdain. With a flick of his wrist, he flung Mu Tingyuan away.
Mu Tingyuan crashed to the ground with a heavy thud. The pain in his wrist, the humiliation of being scorned, and Yan Jingshu’s cold indifference ignited a vicious fury in him. With his servants’ help, he struggled to his feet, his gaze toward Jiang Chenghan and Yan Jingshu now filled with unprecedented malice.
Yan Jingshu frowned and stepped forward. "Mu Tingyuan, don’t you dare act recklessly. If you do, what you did to me at Louwailou—I'd rather be a shattered piece of jade than an unbroken tile. I'll drag you down with me even if it costs me everything."
[宁可玉碎，不为瓦全 (nìng kě yù suì, bù wéi wǎ quán): lit. rather be a shattered piece of jade than an unbroken tile; fig. preferring honor and sacrifice over compromise and disgrace]
Mu Tingyuan had indeed been infatuated with Yan Jingshu, but after repeated rejections and now watching Jiang Chenghan torture him without intervention, whatever affection remained had twisted into hatred. He let out a sinister laugh. "Louwailou? Hah! You say I assaulted you, who can prove it? Him?"
Though he hadn’t known at the time, he later questioned the Louwailou manager. Based on Jiang Chenghan’s striking appearance, he quickly deduced that the man who had burst in, beaten him, and rescued Yan Jingshu was Jiang Chenghan. But since Jiang Chenghan and Yan Jingshu were married, who would believe his testimony, even if it were true?
"What about the written confession you signed with your own hand?" Yan Jingshu said coldly, then pulled out a blood-stained white silk cloth from the cloth bag he had brought.
Mu Tingyuan froze. When he saw the bloody writing on the silk, his face instantly changed. "I didn’t write this!"
Yan Jingshu sneered, "How could it not be? Can’t you even recognize your own handwriting? This was written by your own hand. To show remorse and apologize to me, you even cut your own hand and used blood as ink to write this. It clearly and plainly describes how you deliberately sent my friends away and plied me with wine to take advantage of me. In the end, you even signed and marked it—you can’t just deny it now."
"You—" Mu Tingyuan never expected Yan Jingshu to produce such a thing. He was certain the blood-written words on the silk cloth were not his own, yet he also knew the handwriting perfectly matched his. Even if someone examined it, they wouldn’t find anything amiss—after all, he knew all too well what Yan Jingshu was capable of.
Staring fixedly at Yan Jingshu, Mu Tingyuan wanted nothing more than to snatch back that white silk cloth. But Jiang Chenghan’s earlier display made it clear that none of the men he brought could stand against him. Frustration and helplessness gnawed at him.
"Let’s go—" Gritting his teeth, though unwilling, Mu Tingyuan knew there was nothing he could do now. He had no choice but to leave in resentment. But as he reached the door, he couldn’t resist turning back to throw out a final threat: "You’ll regret this."
Once the door closed again, Yan Jingshu frowned, his expression still uneasy.
Seeing this, Jiang Chenghan gently placed a hand on his shoulder and reassured him, "Don’t worry too much. Even if he’s the emperor’s nephew, he can’t do whatever he pleases without consequences. It’ll be fine."
Yan Jingshu nodded. After all, he now held leverage over Mu Tingyuan. Even if Mu Tingyuan tried something later, he wouldn’t be defenseless.
Putting the matter aside, Yan Jingshu and Jiang Chenghan returned to their bridal chamber. Jiang Chenghan curiously examined the blood-written silk cloth and asked, "When did you prepare this? Is this chicken blood?"
Yan Jingshu explained, "That day at Louwailou, I was afraid Mu Tingyuan would seek revenge later, so I used a broken porcelain shard to cut his palm and drew some blood. Then I imitated his handwriting and wrote this."
"You drew his blood?" Jiang Chenghan looked astonished. He had assumed Yan Jingshu used chicken or pig blood afterward—he never expected it was actually Mu Tingyuan’s.
He had thought Yan Jingshu was just a frail scholar, but not only did he show quick wits, his decisiveness was beyond anything Jiang Chenghan had imagined. It was enough to make him look at Yan Jingshu in a whole new light.
As he spoke, Yan Jingshu watched Jiang Chenghan’s expression carefully, worried he might find the act too brutal or cruel. But seeing only amazement and admiration in Jiang Chenghan’s eyes—not a trace of disgust—he finally felt at ease.
Yan Jingshu then told Jiang Chenghan that at Mushan Academy, he often helped teachers restore damaged books, which was how he learned to imitate various handwriting styles. Having been classmates with Mu Tingyuan for years, he was very familiar with his writing and thus forged this confession.
Jiang Chenghan listened with increasing amazement. After studying the silk cloth a while longer, he handed it back to Yan Jingshu, who stored it away again. After that, the two tacitly avoided mentioning Mu Tingyuan.
A short while later, a maid came to report that Fang Ping had returned with Xi Muyuan. Jiang Chenghan and Yan Jingshu stood up once more to meet them.
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