The Battle of the Noble Ladies (Book 2)

Chapter 143 - Counterattack

"You went to Tongzhou today?" Lady Fan knelt on a cushion, picking up Buddhist prayer beads one by one. She always had patience for such tasks, much more so than for her children.

Her tone was even, as if discussing something trivial, but Han Zhi inexplicably felt a chill. He responded after a moment, nodding, and met Lady Fan's calm, fish-like gaze with a fleeting hint of disquiet in his own eyes.

"After that incident two years ago, I thought you wouldn't act so recklessly again." Lady Fan glanced at him briefly, then looked away. Her long gown trailed across the floor as she placed the gathered prayer beads on the table, took the tea offered by a maid, and sipped it without lifting her eyes, letting out a cold laugh. "But you still haven't learned anything. I remember you once assured me that you'd chosen someone suitable, so I wouldn't need to trouble myself..."

Han Zhi's face turned red instantly. He dreaded it when Lady Fan spoke to him in this manner—sharp and effortless, each time leaving a fresh, invisible wound on his already battered pride.

She always found a way to make him hurt worse just when he thought he was immune to everything. Swallowing, he struggled to apologize, "I actually had him captured..."

Lady Fan's slender, well-maintained fingers paused momentarily. When she looked back at Han Zhi, her eyes held not calm but deep sarcasm. "Had him? I remember your father taught you never to say you 'could have' or 'should have.' Only the outcome matters."

Under her gaze, Han Zhi looked down, his hands hanging at his sides feeling awkwardly out of place. His nails dug into his palms, yet he felt no pain, only a sense that he couldn't find a place to stand under Lady Fan's cold ridicule.

Watching him lower his head in silence, a faint sense of satisfaction arose within her, and her overly delicate lips curved into a small, pleased smile. "If you can't do something, don't boast about it beforehand. I recall teaching you that as well, though it seems you always forget."

Han Zhi took a step back—an instinctive reaction he'd developed since childhood under Lady Fan's gaze of disappointment or disdain. He had tried countless times to break this habit, yet each attempt had been in vain.

With her lecture over, Lady Fan followed up with a question about his next steps. "I heard the criminal you captured has escaped. So, on what grounds do you intend to negotiate now?"

She might not have invested much effort in raising him, but she understood his personality well enough to know that he had a stubborn streak, one that would keep him going headfirst into trouble until he learned his lesson.

Han Zhi pressed his throbbing head, forcing a faint smile despite the discomfort. "I'll figure something out."

He didn't specify what he planned to do. Lady Fan was right—results were what mattered, not the process. If he made bold promises now, they could easily turn into daggers aimed back at him later.

The breeze drifted into the Buddha hall as Lady Fan nodded, saying no more. "I've already received the notice to accompany the Spring Hunt. Prepare yourself. If you still can't find a solution by then, I'll devise an alternative plan."

But by now, Han Zhi had no other candidates or alternatives left. His pride would not allow him to lose to Song Chuyi a third time.

He still remembered Song Chuning once saying that Song Chuyi was difficult to handle, far more formidable than she'd been in her dreams. Yet he had already held her in high regard—or so he thought. During his time in Changsha, he constantly questioned Song Chuning about Song Chuyi, probing her past and present lives, comparing the experiences in her dreams to Song Chuyi's behavior in reality. Still, he hadn't anticipated that Song Chuyi would change so thoroughly.

It suddenly struck him that Song Chuyi was a bit like himself—or perhaps even more like Lady Fan. As innocent and furious as she could appear in public, she was just as composed and ruthless behind closed doors. Two years ago, she feigned a breakdown to mislead him. This year, she used his trip to Tongzhou to divert his attention, letting someone secretly rescue Ma Wangkun.

This Song family's sixth daughter had surprised him time and time again. He stepped outside, feeling unsteady, and let the breeze in the corridor clear his mind. Then he quickly walked to the outer study, opened a small chest, and carefully read through the letters inside.

In the letter, his father mentioned that the Tartars had been stirring up trouble recently, with six attacks on Datong and Xuanfu in the past three months alone. If this continued, war would soon break out.

But if war were to start now, wouldn't the matter of selling Northwestern warhorses to the Tartars be exposed...?

Just recently, the corruption case in Yangzhou had come to light at Zhou Weiqi's hint. If a smuggling case involving warhorses were to emerge as well, given the Emperor Jianzhang's current temperament, he would likely pursue it relentlessly.

Although Zhou Weiqi and the others had ceased their involvement in such dealings two years ago when Cui Shaoting took office, it was impossible to completely erase all traces. If someone along the chain were to betray them, they wouldn't be able to clear their names even if they jumped into the Yellow River. It would also play right into Zhou Weizhao and Prince Duan's hands.

Han Zhi tossed the letters into a nearby iron basin and watched as they burned to ashes, calculating rapidly in his mind.

Now, Cui Shaoting was his best shield. But Cui Shaoting was a cautious, smooth operator with the powerful Prime Minister Chang as his backer. He wouldn't be easy to bring down.

Winning him over with a conciliatory approach was unlikely to work—he had no close ties to the Marquis of Jinxiang's household, and Han Zhengqing's men in the Northwest had no leverage against him, as there were no significant weaknesses or vices to exploit.

But all plans, after all, are crafted by people. Even the most competent person has a weakness. Twirling a pen between his fingers, a triumphant smile suddenly appeared on Han Zhi's face. "Guanshan!"

Guanshan entered, startled by the fire's glowing embers before quickly shutting the door. "Yes?"

Han Zhi glanced at him, removed the jade ring from his finger, and tossed it to him. "Go to the estate and check on that child's progress. Make sure he writes a letter himself."

He didn't believe that Song Chuyi could truly set aside the very child that haunted Song Chuning's dreams and concerns.

Guanshan was about to leave when Han Zhi stopped him again.

"Find a way to get this letter to Song Chuyi." A chilling smile appeared on Han Zhi's usually stoic face. "Ask her if she really doesn't care about this child's life anymore."