Born to Be Either Rich or Noble - Chapter 40

The sky had already brightened.

At some point, the girl’s face had emerged from the shadow of night and become clear again. Her complexion was pale, her clothes wrinkled, her hair a bit disheveled—yet she didn’t look the least bit wretched. Instead, she carried a softened, almost fragile beauty. That faint smile at the corner of her lips carried a weariness, an old sorrow that seemed far too deep for someone her age.

Standing alone, walking her path alone—whether it’s truth or lies, only the listener can decide.

Song Yunzhi had to admit—he couldn’t refute her.

All that he’d learned and witnessed throughout his life had instilled in him the heart of a gentleman, one that remained fair and measured even when facing deceit. Even knowing she was a habitual liar, skilled at weaving falsehoods, he still couldn’t bring himself to doubt the fleeting sincerity she occasionally revealed.

The cold sharpness in his eyes faded under the sea breeze. “Tell me,” he said evenly, “what’s your plan?”

Qian Tong was gazing toward the horizon where the first light of dawn was breaking. When she heard him, her eyes paused, then slowly returned to him.

The fire still burned between them. The noble heir who once sat above the clouds now held a stick in hand, poking absently at the embers. Their boots rested opposite each other by the flames.

Beside him lay a long robe—a man’s outer garment—that had slipped from her shoulders at dawn. It should have been worn by him.

Who wouldn’t love a god, after all?

Gods were always the ones who gave warmth, who carried the suffering of the world in their hearts. Even when deceived, beaten, and betrayed countless times, they still held on to that unwavering compassion.

The first rays of sunlight tore through the sky, a thin golden crack spreading open as orange-red light surged outward. In moments, it flooded the sea, dyeing the rolling waves with molten gold.

Qian Tong didn’t answer him right away. Instead, she suddenly said, “My lord, look!”

Song Yunzhi turned, just in time to see the sun lifting its crimson head from the horizon. His calm gaze lingered for once.

“The sunrise,” Qian Tong lifted her bound hands and pointed to the sea, her voice bright with excitement. “It’s my first time seeing the sun rise over the ocean! Before, I’d either missed the hour or the weather wouldn’t cooperate. They say if you see the sunrise, you’ll have good luck for a whole year. Since both of us have seen it today, I suppose this year will be a fortunate one for us.”

Under the new sun, her smile softened into something pure—untainted, almost childlike.

It was a far cry from the fierce, calculating girl of the night before. In that moment, she looked like an innocent nineteen-year-old who still found joy in beautiful things.

She was, after all, only nineteen…

Song Yunzhi lowered his gaze again and stirred the fire with his stick.

When Qian Tong had watched enough of the sunrise, she finally remembered his question. “The night I got away from you,” she began, “I went to meet the third madam of the Park family. I offered to exchange an account book for a share of their tea business. She agreed…”

“No,” Song Yunzhi cut her off. “Tell it properly.”

Qian Tong blinked, momentarily forgetting that the traitor Lu Daozhong had likely told him everything. She corrected herself: “The third madam wanted to make things difficult for me, but the eldest son of the Park family agreed first.”

She sneaked a glance at the heir’s face. Seeing his calm expression, she continued, “Then the third madam proposed a condition. I don’t know if it was to test the Qian family’s ability, or to force us into smuggling so we’d end up trapped—just like the Cui family. Once we were involved, we’d have no choice but to depend on the Park family completely.”

Song Yunzhi turned his head slightly toward her.

Meeting his gaze, she said helplessly, “If I wanted to secure the shipping rights, I had no choice but to agree.”

“If you wanted to surrender to the court,” he asked, “why didn’t you say so earlier—before last night?”

Qian Tong shook her head. “Would you have believed me if I had? Last night, when you chased me, you were set on stopping me at all costs. You would’ve never let me go.”

Song Yunzhi: …

Who exactly was the one trying to destroy whom?

Qian Tong ignored the detail and went on, “But I knew you’d be suspicious. There were three government ships patrolling the waters—by the time you caught up, it was already too late. The tea had reached the Park family’s hands, and I’d fulfilled the third madam’s condition. Once the time was right, I would’ve revealed my identity to you and explained everything. Given your intelligence, you’d have understood what I’d done.” She paused, then added softly, “I just didn’t expect you to catch up that fast.”

Song Yunzhi said nothing.

Since he had chosen to accept her surrender, and as long as she showed no further deceit, he wouldn’t press her.

The question now was—what came next?

Qian Tong had thought about that too. “We made quite a scene last night,” she said. “I fell into the sea and disappeared. The Park family will know something happened. By now, they must be searching for me with the Qian family’s men.”

“Your hidden guards,” she added, looking at him, “must be searching for you too.”

“Before we leave this island, we need to decide what story we’re telling.”

She picked up a charred stick from the fire, and on the white ash, began to outline their next steps one by one. “First, Lu Daozhong cannot return to Yangzhou.”

“He knows your identity, and he knows I pushed you into the sea. Once he’s back in the city, he’ll spread the tale to everyone.”

She knew Lu Daozhong was likely in the hands of Song Yunzhi’s guards—and without his permission, the man wouldn’t be released.

“The best course now,” she continued, “is to pretend we know nothing. But, my lord, I must ask you to bear with some inconvenience—stay in Yangzhou a while longer under the guise of being my seventh brother-in-law. That way, we can enter the Yellow Sea together later and assess the Park family’s true power.”

Song Yunzhi studied her face.

If he hadn’t heard it from her own mouth, he wouldn’t have believed that this woman—who had once been involved with the Park family’s eldest son—could so easily turn her back on them.

Now that his identity had been exposed, Qian Tong no longer dared to meet his eyes as boldly as before. After a brief glance, she looked away quickly and asked, “What does my lord think?”

Her avoidance made his focus waver for a heartbeat. After a moment, he asked, “Does Park Chengyu know who I am?”

Qian Tong thought for a bit. “I’m not sure. But the last time he came to the Qian estate, he met you once. From his reaction, I don’t think he recognized you.”

“Have you ever met him before?” she asked in return.

The Park family might have great influence along the Yangzhou coast, but in the capital, they had no right to meet the heir of a marquisate.

Song Yunzhi shook his head.

“Then he probably won’t recognize you,” she said with confidence.

He raised an eyebrow. “Why are you so sure?”

Qian Tong admitted softly, “When I first began to doubt your identity, I secretly bought a portrait of you from someone. But the man in that painting… he wasn’t half as handsome as you are.”

She spoke with her head lowered, her voice growing fainter. The blackened stick traced lazy circles over the ash without direction. The sunlight filtered through her dark hair, tinting one side of her ear a rosy red. Her pale skin looked almost translucent, fine blue veins faintly visible beneath.

Song Yunzhi turned his head aside, his hand tightening slightly over his knee.

Afraid she’d overstepped, Qian Tong hurriedly returned to business. “Though you detained me last night, the goods on my ship have already reached the Park family. It’s not a total loss.”

“The Park family is waiting to see me,” she said. “If you’re ready, my lord, we can meet with Park Chengyu together.”

She had already planned it out. “We’ll say that last night’s fight was a clash between the Lu and Qian families. Lu Daozhong, out of jealousy, intercepted the ships and tried to draw the government’s attention. In the end, he was destroyed by our own flaming arrows.”

That way, even if Lu Daozhong wasn’t truly dead, he could never show his face again—not until the Park family turned to side with the imperial court.

For the Lu family, it would be as if he had died.

She had, in her own way, avenged herself.

Song Yunzhi could tolerate that small measure of selfishness. But this wasn’t a game, and he’d learned better than to trust her completely again. “Let me think on it,” he said quietly.

Having said all she could, Qian Tong waited for his final decision.

She waited a quarter of an hour. Then half an hour. Then an hour. The sunrise turned to blazing daylight, the sun now hanging directly above them—yet Song Yunzhi still hadn’t spoken.

Too exhausted to keep waiting—after all, she’d been awake all night—Qian Tong lay back down on the haystack, draping his robe across her chest, and soon fell asleep.

When she woke, a sword was pressed to her throat.

Dazed, she stared up at Song Yunzhi’s face. For a moment she thought time had turned back—that all her careful talking, all her pleading, had been nothing but a dream.

She rubbed her head, trying to confirm it wasn’t. Then the marquis’s heir gritted his teeth and said coldly,

“I’ve decided. We’re getting married.”