Chapter 500: I Have a Brother‑in‑Law

Gu Mingyuan's legs were weak when he left Wu Wang Fu; he leaned on the carriage board, stood for a moment, then climbed onto the carriage.

He leaned against the carriage wall, eyes closed, his chest still heaving violently.

Gu Xian sat opposite, cradling the empty redwood box, staring blankly out the window.

"Xian'er..." Gu Mingyuan spoke.

"Dad..."

"Those words you just said in front of the hall, were they sincere?"

"They were sincere."

Gu Mingyuan was silent for a moment, then nodded.

He patted his son's shoulder, then again, then once more; his eyes were red, but a smile tugged his lips.

The carriage set off, rocking as it headed toward Jinling.

Gu Xian leaned against the carriage wall, his mind still turning over today's events.

He recalled Zhu Huanhuan, remembered the first time he saw her at the school outside the city, recalled how she sat quietly in the tea house, and wondered whether she was eavesdropping behind the screen today.

A faint smile curled his lips as he clutched the redwood box tighter.

In the rear courtyard of Wu Wang Fu, Zhu Huanhuan squatted beside the rose garden, a small shovel in hand, loosening the soil for the flowers.

She shovelled for ages; the soil barely loosened, but her fingertips were pricked by the rose thorns several times.

"Sister, what are you digging? That plant is almost dead from you," Zhu Qiongwu squatted beside her, tilting his head at her.

Zhu Huanhuan looked down, saw the flower roots indeed about to be broken, hurriedly tossed the shovel and tucked her hand behind her back.

"Sister, your hand is bleeding," Zhu Qiongwu, sharp‑eyed, noticed the beads of blood on her finger.

"It's nothing..." Zhu Huanhuan pulled her hand into her sleeve.

Zhu Qiongwu glanced at his sister, then at her hidden hand, and suddenly grinned, "Sister, are you nervous?"

"No..."

"Then why are you digging the flowers?"

Zhu Huanhuan fell silent.

Footsteps sounded from afar.

Zhu Huanhuan looked up and saw Wang Gui approaching from the front courtyard, a redwood box in his hand.

"Princess, the Prince ordered his subordinate to bring this."

Wang Gui handed over the box, turned, and left.

Zhu Huanhuan took the box and opened it.

Inside was a marriage contract, bright red paper splashed with gold, bearing Gu Xian's name, ancestral home, birth details, and a list of betrothal gifts.

Beneath the contract lay a silver hairpin, its head engraved with orchid grass; the workmanship was simple, yet clearly chosen with care.

Zhu Huanhuan picked up the silver hairpin and stared at it for a long time.

Gu Xian always gave her things—worthless trinkets, a ink slab, a few old books, a box of osmanthus cakes.

Each time after giving, his face flushed as if he had committed theft.

This silver hairpin was also his gift.

He bought it last year at Jinling's finest silver shop, spending twenty taels of silver.

She didn't know then; she learned later from the shop clerk.

Twenty taels wasn't a huge sum for the Gu family, but for a young master who earned only a few taels a month, it was half a year's savings.

"Sister, who gave this?" Zhu Qiongwu leaned over to look.

Zhu Huanhuan placed the marriage contract and hairpin back into the box, closed the lid, and held it to her chest.

"Your brother‑in‑law gave it..."

"Brother‑in‑law, do I have a brother‑in‑law now?"

"Um..."

Zhu Qiongwu's eyes lit up, and he asked, "Who is the brother‑in‑law... do I know him?"

Zhu Huanhuan gave no answer, stood up holding the box, and walked back to her room.

She sat by the window, placed the box on the table, and opened it.

The bright red, gold‑splashed marriage contract still had wet ink.

She gently ran her fingertip over the characters, a dab of ink staining the tip.

She took out the contract, read it once, then again.

She had actually read those words countless times before.

Gu Xian's calligraphy was upright; each stroke showed effort.

After a while she carefully folded the contract and returned it to the box.

She picked up the silver hairpin; the orchid‑grass pattern matched that on her pillow.

She tucked the hairpin into her hair and looked at herself in the bronze mirror.

The person in the mirror had curved brows and eyes, a smile at the corners of the mouth.

She removed the hairpin, wrapped it in a handkerchief, and placed it in the innermost drawer of the dressing table.

She turned and left the room, steps light, her skirt swaying gently with each step.

Reaching the courtyard gate, she halted, glanced back toward the dressing table, a faint smile tugging her lips.

East of Yingtian Fu City, in an unassuming inn.

Gu Rui sat in a second‑floor guest room, a bowl of tea before him, already cold.

He wore a half‑worn blue robe, his hair styled just like Gu Xian's.

These past few days he has been constantly imitating Gu Xian, from his walking posture to his speaking tone, even practicing the hand gesture of holding a cup while drinking tea over and over.

He is Gu Mingcheng's legitimate second son, twenty‑one this year, the same age as Gu Xian.

He looks about eighty to ninety percent like Gu Xian; strangers can't tell who is who at all.

When he was a child he went to Gu Xian's house to play, and the servants there often mistook him, which made Gu Mingyuan quite angry.

"Second Young Master, the Eldest Young Master has already returned from Wu Wang Fu," a man in a grey short jacket entered from the doorway, lowering his voice.

"So… has the marriage proposal been accepted?" Gu Rui set down his teacup.

"It has, the State King has received the betrothal gifts and marriage contract; the wedding is settled."

Gu Rui fell silent for a moment.

He recalled his father's words: Gu Xian can marry the Wu King's daughter, and you can too.

No, you deserve to marry the Wu King's daughter even more than Gu Xian.

Gu Xian, that honest simpleton, can't even get a puff out of three sticks; what can he do?

You are more clever than him, you understand human affairs better than him, and you are more worthy of the son‑in‑law position of Wu Wang Fu.

"Has anything gone wrong with the Eldest Young Master at Wu Wang Fu?" he asked.

"No, the Eldest Young Master performed excellently; the subordinate glanced from afar, and the State King is very pleased with the young master," the grey‑jacketed man paused, then added.

Gu Rui's brows furrowed.

Gu Xian performed well; that is not good news at all.

"Second Young Master, the Lord over there wants you to imitate the Eldest Young Master as soon as possible; time is short, and once the wedding date is set, it will be hard to change it."

Gu Rui nodded, stood up, and walked to the window.

Outside the window was a narrow alley; opposite lay a grayish brick wall, covered end‑to‑end with ivy, a verdant green sheet.

A few sparrows hopped on the wall top, chirping.

"Keep watching; report any movement immediately."

The grey‑jacketed man replied with a sound and stepped back.

Gu Rui stood at the window, his fingers lightly tapping the window frame.

Since everything is going smoothly on Gu Xian's side, this spare position is not needed for now.

But being unnecessary now doesn't mean it will never be; father was right—if anything goes awry on Gu Xian's side, he can step in.

He must obtain the son‑in‑law position of Wu Wang Fu.

He faced the bronze mirror, adjusted his collar, and displayed a gentle smile identical to Gu Xian's.

The person in the mirror had curved eyebrows and eyes, looking exactly like an honest, simple scholar.

He has been crouching outside the wall of the Gu Family Old Residence for three days.

He is a little beggar, fifteen or sixteen, in tattered clothes and a filthy, unkempt appearance.

He set up a nest in the alley behind the Gu Family's back gate, using a few broken planks and a straw mat, curling up inside to sleep.

During the day he squats in the corner of the wall to bask in the sun; occasionally someone passing by tosses a copper coin to him, and he bows his head.

No one recognizes him, and no one cares about him.

He is not called Little Beggar; he is called Wang Gouer, an unofficial scout of the Brocade Guard, specializing in this kind of tail‑watching work.

He crawled out of a pile of corpses.

In the twentieth year of the Hongwu era, he followed the great army to Europe, was severely wounded beneath Constantinople, his right leg pierced by an arrow, and it took more than half a year of convalescence to recover fully.

When his leg healed it was crippled, unable to return to the battlefield; Liu Zhen saw his cleverness and transferred him to the Brocade Guard as a scout.

Tail‑watching work is far easier than fighting; no need to risk one's life, no need to charge, just sit and watch.

Watching for a day or two is easy; watching for ten days to half a month is hard.

One must not be distracted, must not doze, must not speak to anyone, even a cough must be stifled.

He has done it for many years and got used to it early.