Born to Be Either Rich or Noble - Chapter 79

It hadn’t been the length of a single incense stick—it had been two full hours.

Song Yunzhi rose and followed Wang Zhao out, mentally preparing himself. He wasn’t there to threaten her; he was giving her a choice. If she refused to be bound to him, the only path left was imprisonment.

He would no longer allow her to act recklessly.

Exiting the dungeon, Wang Zhao informed him that she was waiting at the magistrate’s gate. Song Yunzhi didn’t know if that meant she had agreed or not.

Even Wang Zhao wasn’t certain. It was hard to define whether this counted as agreement, and he couldn’t tell what kind of scheme Qian Tong had up her sleeve. He could only let the prince go see for himself.

Song Yunzhi had no patience to stall; he walked through the narrow corridor outside the prison and took the shortest route to the magistrate’s gate.

When he emerged, he saw her—right there, unmistakable.

Qian Tong wore a vibrant red dress, celebratory and elegant. Behind her stood several Qian family women, hiding with folding fans shielding their faces. Further back were a line of servants, each carrying chests and boxes of varying sizes, all wrapped in red silk. The line was so long it seemed endless.

The display had already drawn a large crowd of onlookers.

Song Yunzhi’s gaze swept over them, calm and steady, settling on her face. His heart was like stone. No matter what tricks she tried today, they would be of no use.

“Prince Yunzhi!” the young woman called, smiling brightly, her voice carrying over the crowd. “Two months ago, I held an engagement banquet with you at a teahouse in the city. Witnesses were present—our friends, relatives, and townspeople. We agreed on this marriage, life and death, hand in hand, together through old age. You even said you would be the Seventh Master of my Qian family.” (t/n: “Seventh Master” is a traditional title for a family son-in-law.)

The tension on Song Yunzhi’s face eased slightly. He could watch at leisure now, to see what tricks she had planned.

The surrounding townsfolk erupted with chatter.

“This Seventh Miss is bold…”

“Indeed, that’s Prince Yunzhi!”

“At the time of the engagement, the prince was forced by her. Just a merchant family—how could she even compare…”

Qian Tong turned sharply, glaring at the gossiping woman. “And who says I can’t? Sour grapes because you can’t have it. If it had been you to be betrothed, you’d have forced the marriage yourself. Can’t stand seeing others happy? Well, may misfortune follow you for eight generations—keep struggling in poverty!”

The woman blushed red with embarrassment and fury.

And she wasn’t the only one muttering…

If she were to be engaged to the prince… anyone would cling to such a fortune. The woman finally fell silent.

Qian Tong ignored her and addressed the crowd. “I, Qian Tong, was fortunate to find a husband. Who would have known he is the son of the reigning Grand Princess, heir to the Marquis’ estate? I have heard that Prince Yunzhi is honorable, fair, resolute, a man of his word. Today, I ask you, Prince Yunzhi—does our engagement still stand?”

Seeing him glance away, seemingly reluctant to respond, she pressed on. “Now that you’ve regained your status, I shall not have you marry into my family in reverse. Today, I bring my dowry myself to ask you: will you marry me, or not?”

He had come to coerce her into marriage. She would do the same in return.

Even if their union became official, it shouldn’t be forced by a man of noble integrity like Song Yunzhi.

She would push, relying on his upbringing and his innate sense of honor to make him compromise.

Even if someday she couldn’t turn back, she could at least leave him a chance at freedom.

Seeing his eyes fixed on her, silent, she smiled and prompted, “Prince?”

Just then, her dress was grabbed by Madam Qian, trembling. “Tong, maybe we should forget it…” She was terrified. She should never have come.

Not only embarrassment, but perhaps her head as well.

She hadn’t been meant to come today. That morning, Qian Tong had insisted she accompany her to the magistrate’s office to push the marriage. When Tong had protested, Qian Tong explained that her mother, Second Madam Qian, had fainted and could not go, leaving her no choice. “Third Aunt, come with me this first time. If we’re forcing this marriage, there should be an elder along.”

Third Madam nearly fainted but was supported by family attendants. Two more concubines accompanied them, taking turns trying to persuade Qian Tong.

Third Madam: “We don’t have to reach for the heights, Tong—you are already head of your family…”

Concubine One: “Seventh Miss, let’s go home.”

Concubine Two: “People will laugh at you if they see this. Let’s leave…”

Qian Tong refused to listen.

At the magistrate’s gate, the three women cowered behind her, wishing they could hide completely, fearing Song Yunzhi’s guards might expel them and settle old scores with the heads of the meddling merchant family.

Third Madam shivered, clutching Qian Tong’s waist, the moments stretching like years. Then, amid the murmurs of the crowd, a single word floated through: “Marry.”

Third Madam froze.

The surrounding noise quieted.

Qian Tong, unable to hear over the commotion, asked again. “Prince, what did you say? I didn’t hear.”

In the sudden calm, Song Yunzhi’s voice rang clear: “Marry.”

Qian Tong turned back to see Third Madam and the two concubines, dumbstruck and pale. “Third Aunt, concubines, carry the dowry in.”

Third Madam looked around, dazed.

“It’s done?” she asked.

Concubines: “The prince agreed.”

Third Madam shook her head violently. “Pinch me! Is this a dream? Quick, go tell Second Master and Second Madam—our family is about to rise!”

Qian Tong approached the gate, looking up at Song Yunzhi. She finally gave him her answer, “I will marry.” Though delayed and unorthodox, she had agreed.

They would walk this first stretch together.

Song Yunzhi’s expression barely moved. She followed him in silence, stepping right behind.

Wang Zhao, unsure what to do with the dowry, caught up. “Seventh Miss…”

Qian Tong lightly stepped on the shadow cast by Song Yunzhi, correcting him. “Not Seventh Miss. From now on, before the prince, call me your fiancée.”

She didn’t know how long this privilege would last, but she would enjoy it while she could.

Wang Zhao admired her audacity; that morning she had been so harsh, and now she charmed her way through. He lowered his gaze obediently.

“Fiancée, the things outside…” There were far too many—where could they put them?

Song Yunzhi kept walking. Qian Tong caught up, asking, “Prince, where should the dowry be placed?”

“Bring it inside first.”

Following him indoors, Qian Tong quietly sought out his bodyguard. She didn’t know if he had been punished, but if so, she would apologize.

Song Yunzhi placed the case files on his desk, seeing her still at the door. His voice was calm. “Since you’ve agreed to marry, return home for now. Once I discuss the wedding date with your father, I will formally bring you into my home.”

As he prepared to wed, his emotions remained steady, showing neither joy nor sorrow.

Qian Tong recalled her earlier confession that her feelings for him were modest, not absolute.

Even now, in agreement, he would think it was due to coercion.

Words could not be taken back, but now that she had decided to marry, there was no need to waste such precious time. She should act as a fiancée. Approaching him, she leaned on his desk, resting her chin on her hand, eyes fixed on him. When he finally looked up, she smiled.

“The sun is so bright outside, and I’m thirsty. Might my fiancé pour me some tea?”

Song Yunzhi’s calm gaze rippled slightly.

“I’m not mistaken,” she continued. “You’re going to marry me, so I am your fiancée, and you are my fiancé, correct?”

Holding his gaze, she pressed on. “As my fiancé, you must be prepared for our daily life together. Naturally, there will be intimate terms between us. And after marriage, surely you will call your fiancée by proper endearments…”

Before she finished, Song Yunzhi rose, poured tea from the kettle, and placed a cup across from her. “Drink.”

Qian Tong sat on the mat, sipping the tea she had demanded, fidgeting slightly. “Hmm, where’s Meng Qing…”

“Since you are unharmed, we should discuss last night,” Song Yunzhi said, looking at her. “Why attempt to kill the princess…”

“Song Yunzhi.” Qian Tong called softly, cutting him off. “Has anyone told you you have no sense of humor?”

Song Yunzhi remained silent.

“Today is our formal engagement. Must we talk about cases? Can’t we discuss something else?”

He considered her words, then gave in. “What would you like to discuss?”

There was much to discuss before their wedding. Qian Tong looked around the residence. “After we marry, will we live in this room? I’ll need to have someone tidy it—it’s too plain.”

Her belongings were too many, the space too small.

“I will move to your home,” Song Yunzhi proposed.

Qian Tong was taken aback.

He explained, “The magistrate’s office is for official business. Even as the heir of the Marquis of Yong’an, I cannot reside here. After marriage, I will live at your house, is that acceptable?”

Acceptable…?

A prominent heir marrying a merchant girl was already shocking enough. Now he proposed moving into her home. Qian Tong touched her neck. “Will the Grand Princess kill me?”

Song Yunzhi lowered his head, ignoring her anxious expression. “No. With me here, no one will trouble you.”

“Oh…” She considered his proposal carefully. Even if she wasn’t afraid, others might be. “And what about Second Master and Second Madam Qian? They’re timid—they might faint.”

Song Yunzhi insisted, “I will speak to them.” Noticing her cup was empty, he refilled it gently. “I have no estate in Yangzhou. I cannot offer a permanent home. You’ve been accustomed to comfort since childhood. After much thought, I will live at your house with you after marriage.”

Seeing her stunned, he asked, “What is it? You don’t agree?”

He had gone this far; he was determined to enter her home. She smiled. “With you living in my house, it will shine with prestige. I only hope your parents will not come to hold me accountable…”

Having received her assent, Song Yunzhi left her. “Rest here for now. Once I finish my tasks, we will go to your home together.”

Qian Tong wisely didn’t ask what he meant by “tasks.”

It must be dealing with the Piao family’s mess from last night, and the troubles she had stirred.

Once news of the princess’s death reached Jiangning, the Pingchang estate’s troops would arrive outside Yangzhou that night. Song Yunzhi would not allow them in, and messengers had surely already been sent to Shen Che.

Even if the prince’s men hadn’t arrived, there was still Lan Yi.

At this critical moment, the Pingchang estate had severed ties with the Piao family. Until the family head arrived, the prince would avoid conflict with the court, yet the court would need reason to send him away.

Song Yunzhi’s efforts were tireless.

Qian Tong obediently sat, waiting, drinking two cups of tea. Just as she nodded off, a sound at the door roused her. She thought it was Song Yunzhi returning, drowsily murmuring, “Yunzhi’s back…”

No response came, and even footsteps had stopped.

After a moment, realizing something was wrong, she struggled awake and lazily turned her head.

She did not see Song Yunzhi. She saw a celestial figure.

Truly, a celestial being.

Qian Tong had never seen a girl so sweet and pure. Though slightly disheveled, with stray hair beneath a crimson ribbon and a dust-stained aquamarine skirt, she stood at the door, posture perfect, one hand holding her bundle, the other lifting her skirt, her exquisite face marked with a touch of apologetic concern.

Qian Tong felt an inexplicable familiarity.

Fully awake now, she rose from her mat. She didn’t know who the visitor was, but her attire suggested she wasn’t local.

The visitor’s eyes initially mirrored the same awe, then, perhaps realizing staring was impolite, she quickly lowered her gaze, gave a small nod, and asked politely, “Sister, may I ask if this is Song Yunzhi’s residence?”