Chapter 140: Original Intent (Part 2)

Somewhere along the way, Zhang He found that he had lost sight of his original heart and purpose.

He could never forget the passion and sincerity he felt when he first took office as the Prefect of Danyang.

He wondered when exactly he had become the man he was now. How ironic it was—had he really chosen hypocrisy and compromise for the Murong family?

Though Zhang He understood that some things were unavoidable, was he truly willing to accept this? Could he really reconcile himself to such a reality?

Clearly, the Zhang He of today could not.

Lost in these thoughts, he gazed out at the relentless rain outside the main hall and then rose to his feet. After bowing respectfully to the old steward, he made his way to the rear chamber.

The rear chamber was where his family rested. After Zhang He left, the old steward remained rooted in place, tears inexplicably welling in his eyes.

“He’s returned… he’s really come back,” the steward whispered, wiping away his tears with a mixture of relief and emotion.

On Zhang He’s face, there was no longer any confusion or despair—perhaps, as the steward said, the old Zhang He had truly come back.

Entering the cluttered rear chamber, Zhang He’s gaze grew complex, though only for a moment. He then moved towards his lawful wife’s room—his first time seeing her in quite a while.

In the past, Zhang He had been distracted by the young and beautiful concubines, neglecting his lawful wife.

Pushing open the door, he found her crouched on the floor, weeping.

Alarmed, Zhang He hurried over and asked what had happened. Seeing the bruises and scratches marring her face and body, he was stunned—she looked neither fully human nor ghostly.

In her arms, she held something tightly. Upon seeing Zhang He, she collapsed into his embrace, sobbing.

It turned out that the concubines, planning to leave the Prefect’s Mansion, had tried to steal valuables. They greedily targeted his lawful wife, but she had fiercely protected what she held.

Zhang He’s eyes reddened as he looked at the object she guarded—not some expensive dowry or jewelry, but a simple, unadorned statue.

How well Zhang He knew the origin of this statue—it was the very piece he had carved with his own hands when courting her.

To his wife, that humble statue was worth more than anything else.

Biting his lip hard, Zhang He wished he could punish his past self for all the years of neglect and pain he had caused.

“I’ve caused you suffering. I swear, this will never happen again,” he said earnestly, cupping her worn face. Yet she couldn’t meet his eyes.

How could she, bearing such wounds, feel worthy of her husband?

Zhang He understood her thoughts all too well. It was only her kindness that had allowed his waywardness to go unchecked for so long. But now, he was no longer the man he once was.

He shared his renewed resolve with her, though he did not mention Fang Xu or Murong Bai. Hearing his words, she wept tears mingled with hope and sorrow.

Once, her husband had held such ideals and ambitions. In that moment, she felt that man had truly returned.

Zhang He helped her clean the scattered debris on the floor. Before long, the old steward hurried in and whispered something into Zhang He’s ear.

A faint smile curved Zhang He’s lips as he took his wife’s hand and headed to the main hall.

She looked at him with puzzled eyes, unsure where he was leading her.

Upon arriving, she was stunned beyond belief to see a group of people kneeling on the floor—former servants and maids who had recently left the Danyang Prefect’s Mansion, as well as some of Zhang He’s concubines.

“Lord Zhang, we meet again,” Gu Bei greeted him with a respectful bow and a smile. Zhang He knew Gu Bei was Fang Xu’s strategist and dared not be complacent.

“Our young master knew you might need these people, so he sent them here. I hope this meets with your satisfaction,” Gu Bei said, nodding to the guards behind him.

The guards then unveiled the trinkets the concubines had taken from the mansion—among them, even his lawful wife’s dowry.

Seeing the fresh wounds on his wife’s face, anger surged within Zhang He.

“This ointment is Black Jade Healing Balm. It’s a small token from our young master. I hope you won’t refuse it,” Gu Bei said, producing a small medicinal jar.

Curious, Zhang He looked at him, wondering what the ointment was.

“This balm heals wounds swiftly and leaves no scars. I see you’ll need it now,” Gu Bei said with a knowing tone. Zhang He of course understood its significance.

“In that case, please extend my thanks to Young Master Fang,” Zhang He replied without hesitation. After all, he and Fang Xu were now in the same boat—there was no need for him to be reserved.

Besides, since Fang Xu had sent it, he clearly knew Zhang He’s current needs.

Indeed, it was exactly as Zhang He suspected—Fang Xu was aware of everything happening around him. Yet Zhang He harbored no resentment; some things were simply unavoidable. Wasn’t that so?

After entrusting the items to Zhang He, Gu Bei left two guards behind to assist with affairs in the mansion.

Seeing as Zhang He’s household was now short on capable hands, this precaution was also for Zhang He’s protection.

Zhang He thanked Gu Bei repeatedly, understanding that this was the strategist’s genuine concern.

(The End of this Chapter)