Born to Be Either Rich or Noble - Chapter 71

Song Yunzhi entered the room and stopped before the low bed, his back to the doorway. The door behind him remained wide open, waiting for the explanation owed to him.

A moment later came the soft thud of the door being closed.

He turned. The girl stood there clutching the bedding, all her travel fatigue and drowsiness scared clean out of her. She stared at him—fearful, wronged. “My lord, can we talk?”

He was unmoved by that pitiful, coaxing look of hers. But he didn’t dismiss her words.

He’d heard she had gone to the salt fields. He didn’t return to the prefect’s manor. Instead, he rode from Lianghuai straight here without stopping—only to be met with a stunning surprise. He set down the long sword in his hand, washed up at the basin, then sat at the rickety wooden table, fully prepared to hold a night-long conversation by candlelight.

He looked at the girl standing frozen several steps away. “Talk about what?”

Qian Tong had already placed the bedding on the bed. Under his gaze, she dragged a cushion from across the room to his side, sat down—very, very close to him.

She had already bathed; her long dark hair fell loose across her shoulders. A thin cloak draped over her frame did nothing to hide the faint fragrance of her skin.

And she had been in that state while sharing a room with Young Master Park.

Song Yunzhi’s fingers tightened in his palm.

Just as anger threatened to blaze, her soft voice drifted in from beside him. “Let’s talk about feelings first. How about that?”

His throat bobbed. He turned to meet her tentative eyes. His lips curved into an icy smile. “Very well. You talk.”

The moment he spoke, she suddenly leaned in, touching his lips with her fingertips.

The injury at the corner of his mouth had nearly faded, but a faint mark remained. Qian Tong traced it with the pad of her finger. “Does it hurt?”

He didn’t move. Didn’t blink.

“Did I bite you?”

“Then it must have been the young lord who kissed too fiercely, and I fought back.” Her gaze lingered on his lips. Her body leaned into his, half of her breath spilling across his neck.

Summer heat rose—starting at his throat, burning down to his heart. Blood churned. His pulse raced. His palms, his back—his whole body went hot.

She knew now—knew that the kiss the night before had been his doing. That he, not she, had broken the rules of propriety. That he had waited until she slept, kissed her, carried her to his bed, and tended her wound.

But she was questioning him at absolutely the wrong time. Too late for him to give the answer she had wanted.

He caught her hand, staring into her mist-filled eyes. “Why was he here?”

“He,” naturally, meant Park Chengyu.

“My lord still remembers the Second Young Master? I handed him over to the princess.” Qian Tong didn’t move away, letting his fingers tighten around her wrist. Her voice was steady. “Mingfeng came to Yangzhou yesterday. She demanded Young Master Park. He wasn’t willing, so he came to me for an explanation.”

She wasn’t lying.

Back in the dungeon, she had hidden much from him—everything she withheld from her confrontation with Madam Third, she now laid out for him. “In Haizhou, Madam First locked me and Young Master Park in the same room…”

Her wrist was suddenly crushed in his grip. She winced but continued.
“To deceive Madam First, I made a deal with Young Master Park to pretend we were engaged. He refused at first, so I told him about Princess Mingfeng. I said if there were rumors of our engagement, he’d have a way to decline her…”

“I didn’t expect Mingfeng would truly come for him.”

She could hardly pretend ignorance. Song Yunzhi interrupted, coldly. “Was that not your plan from the beginning?”

Qian Tong didn’t deny it. She raised her head, meeting his eyes. “Yes. I intended to feign an engagement with him and sever ties with you.” She paused. “But I didn’t expect you would actually care for me…”

Care enough to kiss her behind closed doors.

He felt the ground shift beneath him—this was the first time in his life that the rigid, rule-abiding heir carried a stain someone could hold over him.

Liking someone wasn’t shameful, but he had done something unseemly. Slowly, color crept across Song Yunzhi’s cheeks. He averted his eyes.

Yet before he could collect himself, her voice softened. “I like you too.”

She liked his righteousness, his purity, his unwavering willingness to protect her—qualities she lacked and could never possess.

He didn’t need to fear she would laugh at him. She had long been thinking of him as well.

Candlelight flickered in his eyes, burning bright. He had expected her to lie, to persuade him with more falsehoods.

But he hadn’t expected such a direct confession. The jealousy boiling in him—momentous as a storm—collapsed instantly at those words.

If this was the “feeling” she meant to speak of…

He accepted it.

He turned back to her, searching the warmth in her gaze, trying to distinguish truth from lies.

Under that inescapable attention, her own cheeks flushed. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears—his or her own, she couldn’t tell. Nervous. Frightened. But unable to resist the temptation to taste what men and women were forbidden before marriage. She leaned toward him, eyes fixed on the fading mark on his lips, and whispered:

“My lord… do you want to kiss me again? This time while I’m awake?”

A hero cannot escape a woman’s charm.

He had never understood the weight of that saying—until now. Her scent was the lure, the memory of that night the trap. Together, they were a drug, dissolving the gentleman he had always been into nothing but instinct.

Just as he bent toward her, he grasped the last thread of reason.

“Cut ties with him.”
“And our engagement still stands.”

It was the second time tonight she’d heard that exact same line—and it dragged her back to reality. She leaned away, seeing clearly his sacred, disciplined face now tinged with worldly desire. A fallen god under moonlight.

She had no choice but to stop him.

“That is what I wanted to discuss with you.”

She slowly drew back from his lips. He followed her movement, dazed, then blinked himself awake. “What do you mean?”

“I only want to talk about feelings with you.” She spoke gently. “Let’s not have an engagement.”

His mind, already foggy from the night’s emotions, stalled. “No engagement… then what?”

“Your affection. Your sweet words.” Her eyes shone, full of hope for a future only they would know. “A private romance that only you and I share.”

What?

Song Yunzhi’s eye twitched hard.

Qian Tong explained, “I know you don’t want to be with me in a way that reflects poorly on you. And I know you could arrange a marriage for me easily. But I don’t want that.”

He only knew loyalty until death. He couldn’t understand why she refused marriage.

He asked again. “Why?”

There were many reasons. She chose the simplest.

“I’ve worked too hard for everything I have. I don’t want people saying I only achieved it because I clung to you.”

His light was too bright. Standing beside him would bury her own.

Song Yunzhi blinked. His lips tightened. “You care… about that?”

“I do.” Qian Tong nodded. “Just like you care about your reputation. I’m a merchant’s daughter—I live for achievement. I can’t let your status overshadow everything I’ve built.”

At last he understood. After struggling for several seconds, he forced out the words. “You’re asking me… to have a clandestine affair with you?”

Crude—but accurate.

Qian Tong nodded, coaxing gently. “My lord, wouldn’t you like to add a romantic escapade to your life story?”

From the look in Song Yunzhi’s eyes, he was deciding whether to strangle her.

She softened her tone. “Life is long. If someone can walk with you for even a short stretch and leave behind a memory… isn’t that enough?”

He should have known—she never had good ideas.

What had he expected from her?

“Qian Tong.” His temple pulsed. He gritted his teeth, fighting the urge to throw her out. “Don’t even think about it.”

What did she take him for?
What did she take herself for?

If he wouldn’t agree to emotions, then she would move to business. With a sigh of regret, she slid off him, returned the cushion to its original place, setting a proper distance between them.

“Since that won’t work, then let’s talk business.”

Her shift was so fast that even he, always composed, was momentarily stunned.

She didn’t want their unfinished affection to cloud his judgment. “My Qian family has been in the salt trade for a hundred years. Our records are clean. Except for refusing the emperor five years ago, we’ve done no wrong. As you said before all the merchants—laws above, the common people the foundation. We don’t profit off suffering or dishonor. What we earn, we return to the people. My lord, if you choose my family, you will not regret it…”

She laid out her value clearly.
“Our alliance remains. My family can help the court open new salt fields. I can infiltrate the Park household and act as your informant…”

Song Yunzhi snapped out of his haze, unable to bear another word. “Enough. Out.”

She tried one last time.
“My lord is as bright as the moon—impartial, upright, never one to use public power for private grudges…”

He closed his eyes.

“Besides, the only thing between us is a failed conversation about romance. I didn’t betray you. I truly—”

He opened his eyes, fury rising like a tidal wave.

“I know, I know! I’m leaving!”
She slapped a hand over her own mouth, crawled off the cushion, and hurried toward the door. But once she reached it, she turned back, utterly unafraid of death.
“Or… my lord could reconsider the romance?”

Before he could explode, she shut the door herself.

Bang.

His enraged face was safely locked inside.

Fuyin had been certain her mistress wouldn’t return tonight—certain she’d spend the whole night smoothing things over with Young Lord Song. When Qian Tong walked in so soon, Fuyin was stunned.

Curious how the negotiation had gone, she ventured, “My lady… is the young lord no longer angry?”

But Qian Tong suddenly turned, expression serious.

“Fuyin, starting tomorrow, we’re going to work twice as hard. We’re going to win him over with skill.”