The Battle of the Noble Ladies (Book 2)

Chapter 130 - Testing

After three years of studying together and five years of knowing each other, Zhang Run had never realized that Han Zhi was this kind of person—selfish, cold-blooded, and yet so confident in his righteousness. He never felt he'd done anything wrong and always believed that, even if he had, he deserved to be forgiven, or assumed he would be.

With a light "sorry" and a promise of a "future," he thought he could ruin the entire Zhang family and then proceed to ruin another girl's life, a girl from a family of similar status to the Han family. It was so easy for him—one word, one gesture, and he'd determined someone's entire future, as if only his feelings mattered and others had no right to protest. Just like with Zhang Han—he hadn't liked her when they were engaged, felt nothing at the prospect of marriage, and, when she hanged herself upon their broken engagement, didn't feel even a shred of remorse.

This was the man he'd devoted himself to for four or five years, sacrificing his entire family, his parents, and his beloved sister.

Zhang Run looked at Han Zhi with a complicated expression. His hand, hanging by his side, clenched into a tight fist, and he forced himself to smile, though it looked strained. "You make it sound so simple. I won't even mention what kind of person your mother is. When she discovered our relationship, she wasted no time discussing with your father about proposing to my family, securing an engagement with my sister. As for your father, he's as unyielding as they come... Even if your future wife is tolerant, what if one day she can't stand it and tells them about me? I'd die with no place to be buried."

His tone focused entirely on whether Han Zhi's future wife could accept him, and at last, Han Zhi felt reassured. He had long been confident that Zhang Run would yield—after all, they shared five years of history, and with the Zhang family now in ruins, Zhang Run's status a fabrication, where else could he go? Who else could he rely on but him?

The idea that had been lurking in Han Zhi's mind grew even clearer and more resolute. With a light laugh, he took a sip of rose tea and said, "Run'er, you know I never take on anything I'm not certain of. Getting married is a necessity—I'm the heir of the Marquis of Jinxiang. If I don't marry and have children, heaven and earth won't tolerate it. But my feelings for you have never changed. The wife is only there to protect you from gossip and to continue the family line."

These were words he had rehearsed countless times in his mind, and now they flowed effortlessly. "You don't need to worry that I'd shift my affections. To me, women are merely tools for reproduction and decoration. I'll find a way to keep her firmly under control, so she can't escape my grasp. She'll act as a shield for you."

"You always make everything sound so good," Zhang Run said with a bitter smile, his eyes void of any real emotion. "Just like how you once said you'd eventually convince your parents to find a peaceful way to end the engagement without hurting my sister. But you couldn't do it in the end. My sister didn't just suffer—she didn't even get a proper burial, just wrapped in a tattered mat and thrown into a mass grave somewhere."

Han Zhi knew that Zhang Run had always cared deeply for his only sister, and seeing his despondent expression, he grew anxious, grabbing his hand and insisting, "No, no, Han'er's situation was indeed my parents' and my fault. But my promises to you are sincere! Otherwise, why would I go to such lengths to save you and keep you safe here in the capital?"

Zhang Run laughed and brushed the matter aside, looking at him with narrowed eyes. "Then tell me, which girl is so fond of you that she'd willingly let you keep me on the side, bound tightly under your control?"

Han Zhi, however, avoided answering directly, offering vague reassurances instead. "Just trust that I would never deceive you again. Give me a few months—just a few—and when things are settled, I'll tell you myself."

Zhang Run knew he wouldn't get more out of him. Despite all his sweet talk, Han Zhi hadn't divulged a single critical detail, as cautious and meticulous as ever, even with the person he claimed to love the most.

That evening, when Wei Yanxi arrived, Zhang Run sat alone in the empty courtyard, his hair unbound, and turned back to ask him, "How did Yanjun die?"

"He died while escorting someone to Hebei on behalf of the young marquis. The other side knew our route and the number of guards. They did it cleanly, leaving no trace." Wei Yanxi sat across from Zhang Run, pouring him a cup of wine. "About half a month ago, we finally found some clues, but the trail went cold. The other side is cunning, and we've lost the lead again."

Zhang Run frowned slightly. "But I don't think he's the type to go to such great lengths over someone like Wei Yanjun. Could there be another hidden motive?"

If Han Zhi truly cared so deeply, the Zhang family's tragedy wouldn't have happened. The fact that he'd spent over two years investigating Wei Yanjun's matter seemed unbelievable.

He stared at Wei Yanxi, who looked even more solemn under the moonlight, and spoke with utmost sincerity, "Yanxi, if even you won't help me, then I really have no hope left."

"It's because of the person Wei Yanjun was escorting—she was the Eighth Miss of the Changning Marquis Estate, someone with a rather unique constitution. Both the young marquis and His Highness are determined to have her and regard her as highly valuable." Wei Yanxi lowered his voice, then chuckled softly. "Such an important person perished, and you know the young marquis' nature—he won't let this go lightly."

Yes, he never lets go of anyone who stands in his way.

"Who does he suspect?" Zhang Run looked at Wei Yanxi, his gaze intense. "You're by his side; surely you know something?"

He was alone and powerless, without even a proper identity; appearing in public was as good as a death sentence. Yet he couldn't die—not until he had avenged the Zhang family. If he couldn't act directly, he'd have to find Han's enemies and see if they might help settle this blood feud on behalf of the Zhang family.

Han Zhi assumed everyone else was as cold and ruthless as he was, and believed Zhang Run would disregard his family's blood feud for the sake of future prospects and sentiment.

Such a heartless person didn't deserve anyone's loyalty.

Wei Yanxi, having known Han Zhi since childhood, could guess his thoughts and, after a moment's hesitation, leaned in even closer and whispered a name, barely audible.

Zhang Run's gaze fell to the chessboard, though his thoughts were already far away. He would need to find a way to meet this ill-fated young lady.