Fu Ling looked at Jiang Qian's provocative eyes, but did not get angry immediately.

She had heard about this cousin before she entered the house. The Jiang family was originally a merchant, and they only rose to power because their eldest daughter married a general. Jiang Qian relied on this relationship to become a childhood sweetheart with His Royal Highness. According to rumors from outsiders, The perfect candidate for the crown prince's concubine, now that her love has been snatched away by her, it is inevitable that he will feel resentful.

"It turns out to be Sister Qian. Of course I won't blame you." Fu Ling smiled, a delicate pear dimple appeared on the side of her fair cheeks.

Jiang Qian raised her head proudly and was about to speak when she heard Fu Ling's gentle voice echoing in her ears, "The old lady lives in the east. I'm afraid my sister went in the wrong direction."

Fu Ling's voice was not loud, but everyone present could hear clearly, "When you enter this inner courtyard, it feels like you are in a deserted place. I am afraid that you have already regarded the General's Mansion as your own back garden. It is inevitable that you will think so."

In recent years, relying on the friendship between the general and the late wife, the Jiang family has often been domineering in the capital. If it is said that the autumn wind is blowing, I am afraid that the Jiang family cannot escape the blame.

Jiang Qian didn't expect Fu Ling to be so ruthless, and her face suddenly turned red with anger, "What's the use of being sharp-tongued? My mother is the late madam's biological sister! If it weren't for you, this concubine should have been yes--"

In front of everyone, she finally calmed down her anger and glanced steadily at the soup cup in the attendant's hand. Then she took two steps forward, leaned over and said in Fu Ling's ear, "You alone can get His Highness the Crown Prince's favor." Heart?"

After hearing this, Fu Ling didn't know how to answer for a moment.

Say she is greedy for power and has never wanted to win the heart of His Royal Highness? If Jiang Qian thought she was being sarcastic on purpose, she would get even more furious.

After just a moment of confusion, Jiang Qian bowed and left, and the group of people walked away in a hurry.

Xiang Lan glared at Jiang Qian's back and said angrily, "You can only show off your quick words for a while, but you are worthy of competing with our lady!"

Even though she said this, she was still worried.

This Miss Jiang is His Highness the Prince's childhood sweetheart, and she is so arrogant. Although they have not seen each other for many years, what if His Highness the Prince treats Fu Ling deliberately coldly just for her sake...

"Ignore her. If you don't leave, the soup will get cold." The look in Fu Ling's eyes was as calm as ever, which immediately gave Xiang Lan confidence like a reassurance.

What kind of person is the young lady? She has survived so many storms and waves in the past, so how can she be a constraint on the affairs of women here?

Thinking of this, Xiang Lan calmed down and hurriedly followed Fu Ling's footsteps.

After walking through the winding corridor by the lake, we arrived at the study room in a short while. Surrounded by stacks of green bamboos, Fu Ling had an unimpeded path, but in a flash, dusk had fallen.

The last rays of the sunset poured on the desk through the gap in the window lattice. Xiao Chengyou sat silently in the shadows, reading the letters in his hands with his eyes lowered.

His cold brows and eyes were indifferent, and his temperament was gentle and peaceful. It was not scary, but there was a heavy sense of oppression pouring out for no reason, making people breathless.

Fu Ling paused for a moment, took a deep breath, and raised that exquisite smile on her lips again. But at this moment, the person at the desk seemed to have discovered her traces, and suddenly raised his head, his eyes The moment they collided, the meticulous smile on Fu Ling's face almost gave way.

Xiao Chengyou looked at her calmly, with an obscure expression hidden in the shadows. Only those deep black eyes were as cold as ice. He just glanced at her lightly, and he felt as if his whole body was about to be pierced, and it was difficult to hide it with any cover. .

Fu Ling twitched the corners of his lips again, but was unexpectedly stiff.

She took a deep breath, pushed the door open and walked in. The door creaked softly, and Xiao Chengyou turned his head to look at her.

Seeing the soup cup that Fu Ling brought, Xiao Chengyou didn't seem surprised, but his eyebrows were covered with a layer of coldness.

"My husband traveled a long distance a few days ago, so I think I'm a little tired," Fu Ling's light gray eyes were soft and sincere, "This is the soup I made myself, husband, are you willing to try it?"

The word "hands on" was particularly clear. Xiang Lan, who was responsible for supervising the chef's soup preparation, lowered her head with some guilt. Fortunately, Xiao Chengyou didn't doubt it - or didn't care at all.

"I'm interested." Xiao Chengyou responded nonchalantly. Before the smile on Fu Ling's brow was complete, he heard him say, "Put it aside on the table."

The cold and distant voice clearly means that it rejects people thousands of miles away.

"This soup cools down quickly, Your Highness is not as good as..." Xiang Lan couldn't help but advise, but was interrupted by Fu Ling in an instant, "It doesn't matter, it all depends on Your Highness's wishes."

Fu Ling's eyes glanced at Xiang Lan. Xiang Lan knew that she had said the wrong thing, so she quickly retreated and closed the door gently.

Fu Ling had something to ask for, and didn't care about Xiao Chengyou's cold treatment. He asked, "I'm so troubled, why don't you give me a hard time here?"

Xiao Chengyou didn't answer, so she took it as acquiescence, walked to the table, and picked up the ink cube on the inkstone.

The thick darkness of night had completely covered the room, and in the silent room, there was only the faint sound of the flickering candlelight.

Fu Ling has been treated as her eldest sister's book boy since she was a child. She would be scolded at the slightest discomfort when grinding ink. Over time, she also learned the trick. Her movements were light and slow, and the ink cubes were swirling vertically on the inkstone without knowing what to do. After a while, Xiao Chengyou dipped the pen in Xiao Chengyou's hand on the inkstone, and then took up the pen to write down detailed notes on the border defense map on the case.

The soup on the side had already cooled down, and a soft voice suddenly sounded in Xiao Chengyou's ears, "Is it suitable for my husband to live in this study?"

Xiao Chengyou frowned slightly and replied, "Very good."

As soon as he finished speaking, the longing look in Fu Ling's eyes suddenly revealed a flaw. His eyebrows drooped and he stared silently at the ink block in his hand. His long eyelashes cast a gray shadow on his cheek, like a hazy painting of Jiangnan stained by mist, with loss in his silence.

Xiao Chengyou looked away silently.

Although he did not understand the love story between men and women, the battles in the battlefields over the years had taught him a lesson: being too greedy for merit and advancing recklessly or fleeing in panic would inevitably reveal one's flaws to the enemy. When the situation was unclear, the best way was to keep the troops in place.

The General's Mansion, which holds real power, is a thorn in the eyes of the current emperor. Now that he has just arrived in the capital, countless eyes inside and outside are watching his every move. He wants to avoid Fu Ling, but does not want to cause trouble, so he has to treat her coldly. Perhaps in a short time, she will give up and stop pestering him.

Xiao Chengyou couldn't help but laugh at himself when he thought that he had to use military tactics to deal with a girl.

"My dear husband, you should rest early after you finish your work. You will need to get up early tomorrow when you return home." Fu Ling pretended to mention it casually. In the quiet air, her voice was slightly trembling.

After a moment of silence, she heard Xiao Chengyou respond softly, "Yeah."

Fu Ling felt relieved as if she had been pardoned, and she couldn't help but speed up the grinding of ink. Xiao Chengyou looked up at her, and the wound on her hand was clearly revealed to him. On the side of her white and slender little finger, the dried blood was like a thin layer of cinnabar fallen on the snow, bright and glaring.

He walked so fast that he didn't notice she was injured.

Xiao Chengyou's pen tip suddenly stopped, and the ink that had seeped into the paper slowly spread out, staining the words on the picture black.

He lowered his eyes to look at the covered place name, and the memories wrapped in wind and snow suddenly rushed into his mind.