Chapter 58 I Cannot Be the Only One Crying

Upon hearing the news of Jiang Hexuan's movements, Su Qishan felt a surge of foreboding. Rushing all the way, she finally arrived at the scene.

Catching sight of Jiang Hexuan, she momentarily lacked the courage to approach him.

When he turned around, his gaze met hers, cold as freezing ice, as though he were looking at a complete stranger. No, not a stranger, but an irreconcilable enemy.

Realizing that he had discovered the truth, Su Qishan parted her lips, wanting to explain, yet completely at a loss for how to justify her initial impure motives—after all, she truly had used Jiang Hexuan as a substitute.

However, Jiang Hexuan spoke before she could utter a word.

The once gentle and pure young man seemed like a completely different person, every word out of his mouth a sharp blade piercing straight into the heart.

"Who did I think it was? Turns out to be General Su. What a coincidence, I heard something today: General Su has apparently been betrothed for a long time, and her fiancé looks exactly like me."

Knowing that he was angry, Su Qishan hesitated, unsure of how to respond.

She had been led astray by her own obsession and committed a wrong, but during their subsequent time together, she had not been entirely devoid of genuine affection for him.

The Duke of Zheng gnashed his teeth in secret. *Now you realize there was affection? What were you doing before? You only regret it after the truth is exposed.*

Jiang Hexuan did not wait for her reply, letting out a cold, mocking laugh.

"To think that I once felt guilty for harboring calculations of my own. It now appears I was overthinking."

Su Qishan was stunned for a moment. "What do you mean?"

"Can't General Su understand? With your illustrious family and vast estate, possessing both glory and immense power, we commoners naturally wish to attach ourselves to greatness. Otherwise, how could it be such a coincidence that you encountered me while practicing swordsmanship in the snow? I simply never imagined your fiancé would resemble me so closely."

"It seems I ought to thank him. Had it not been for him, I could not have succeeded. General Su is truly a person of deep passion and unwavering devotion, holding such profound feelings for her fiancé that she even seeks a replacement after his death. Calculated this way, we simply took what we each needed."

Splendid! These words salvaged his own dignity while making the young General Su taste the pain of being hurt by another.

Yet, as Master Jiang uttered these words, his own heart must have been—

The Duke of Zheng felt a mixture of relief and heartache, while also worrying that Jiang Hexuan's words might enrage Su Qishan and provoke an even deeper rift between them.

Just as he feared, Jiang Hexuan's words struck Su Qishan's closely guarded pain point, and the young general, who had initially intended to explain and soothe him, flew into a rage.

"Since you knew you were a substitute, you should have known your place! You have no right to bring him up!" Exploited and humiliated to her face, she spoke without restraint out of sheer anger.

"Since you are this furious, let us part ways and each seek our own happiness. I am certainly not one to dally with a married woman."

Pushed to the absolute limit of fury, Su Qishan反而 laughed instead. "You think I would simply let you go? Since you chose to play the substitute, you must play the part for a lifetime—you cannot abandon it halfway, Master Jiang."

Discarding her previous self-delusion of harboring deep affection for him, she swiftly reined in whatever mercy she had left.

The Duke of Zheng felt his heart twist in agonizing spasms, lowering his head to shed silent tears.

*Master Jiang must have spoken those words simply to escape the sorrowful grounds of the Su estate. His heart must have grown cold to the absolute extreme for him to utter such words of parting ways.*

*His inner self must be riddled with a thousand wounds by now.*

*Oh, foolish young General Su! His words clearly showed that he cared about you beyond measure.*

*If he had only been cheating you for money, why not keep up the deception to the end and pretend ignorance instead of confessing the truth?*

*And as for you, you had clearly fallen for him yourself, yet now you utter words that break his heart. Who knows who will end up regretting it when the realization finally dawns upon you.*

Jiang Hexuan's expression grew even colder. "If General Su wishes to forcibly keep me, could it be that you have actually fallen for me? What a pity that Master Jiang only recognizes money, not the words of love and affection."

Su Qishan's expression was equally unsightly as she retorted, "Of course I am very fond of you; after all, you bear an uncanny resemblance to him. To be honest, if you were not of similar age, I would suspect you were his reincarnation."

Watching two people who clearly harbored feelings for one another inflict mutual torture upon each other, the Duke of Zheng felt utterly wretched.

*Why must lovers in this world fail to find a happy ending, choosing instead to tear each other apart?*

*Since Fifth Young Master Qin is already dead, why dwell on the past? One should cherish the person right before their eyes.*

The Duke of Zheng completely forgot that he himself had been feeling pity for Fifth Young Master Qin just moments before.

*No, young General Su committed a grave mistake by treating someone as a substitute, and now she continues to inflict verbal wounds. For a scholar, what kind of devastating blow must that be?*

*She must be made to realize her wrongdoing and suffer a proper lesson. She must understand that human hearts are not playthings to be manipulated at her whim.*

*Harming someone's heart is easy, but winning it back is exceedingly difficult.*

Jiang Hexuan attempted to leave but was unable to do so. He was confined by Su Qishan to his courtyard, forbidden from stepping out even a single step, with guards stationed outside his door.

Jiang Hexuan did not offer any violent resistance or attempt to break out by force; his demeanor merely reflected his absolute lack of submission to her.

He looked at the wardrobe filled entirely with white garments—because she liked them, all his clothes had been white ever since. Who could have imagined that she didn't actually love seeing him in white, but merely loved her deceased fiancé.

He stripped off the white robes, put on the drab gray garments he had originally arrived in, and burned every single white piece of clothing to ashes.

The zither and go board that had witnessed the journey of their romance were likewise destroyed by him. The strings of the zither were slashed to pieces, and the jade go stones were smashed into fragments.

Even the other miscellaneous treasures that had gradually accumulated in his courtyard and held a unique place in his heart were utterly destroyed.

Without counting them, he never realized how many shared memories already existed between them.

He had previously believed she cherished those items, only to discover now that the only object of affection was that other person. Even their shared past did not belong solely to the two of them, with a third person ever present in the shadows.

He felt as though a lump of cotton had been stuffed into his throat, choking him with suppressed sobs, unable to draw breath.

*How can anyone be this cruel? To trample upon another's sincere devotion without a shred of remorse, leaving no room for retreat.*

He could not match her ruthlessness; the sight of these remnants still pierced his heart with pain. The defensive spikes he had forged for himself curled backward and deeply embedded themselves into his own flesh.

The Duke of Zheng wept openly, tears streaming down his face. If an outsider like him felt such anguish, he dared not imagine the extent of Master Jiang's torment. Even if she no longer loved him, how could she bear to hurt him so?

The twists of fate and entanglements of romance in this world were truly this agonizing. He had previously thought the ultimate tragedy was merely tales like *Peacocks Southeast Fly*, driven to desperate ends by parental tyranny. Only upon reading this story did he understand that lovers could also harbor words too difficult to speak, plunging into the depths of agony.

When Su Qishan learned of these actions, her fury escalated even further.

She ordered her subordinates to craft numerous white garments once more, forcing him to wear them, and declared icily, "Do not wear clothes of any other color. Without the white, you do not resemble him. Since you chose to play the substitute, you must maintain your professional dedication."

The Duke of Zheng wept yet another torrent of tears. *"Wuuwuuwuu... 'If you don't wear white, you don't resemble him'—those words are far too cruel!"*

Thereafter, the two descended into an era of mutual torment.

They clearly possessed genuine feelings, but one had a heart so deeply wounded that she refused to expose any soft interior to be hurt again, wrapping herself in sharp spikes like a hedgehog.

The other felt that his dignity had been trampled by deception and exploitation, stubbornly refusing to yield an inch.

Compounded by the lingering shadow of a third person, their already awkward relationship became even harder to mend.

Amidst blow after blow of mutual injury, Jiang Hexuan's heart gradually grew cold. His emotions were slowly worn away, shifting from initial agony to numb indifference.

Observing this stark transformation, Su Qishan began to panic. Unwilling to acknowledge that she had fallen in love with Jiang Hexuan, she tried to convince herself that her anxiety stemmed merely from the intolerable defiance of a mere substitute.

*You deserve this! Only when you have truly broken his heart and driven him far away will you finally know regret.*

The Duke of Zheng, who had originally hoped the two would ultimately end up together, completely changed his mind.

*Lady Su is simply unworthy of someone dedicating such deep devotion to her. How could she bear to injure someone so precious?*

*Run far away, Master Jiang! Stop loving her and let her spend the rest of her days in endless torment and regret.*

Their relationship grew increasingly frosty and rigid, eventually reaching a point where words failed them entirely, as if their prior tenderness and warmth had been nothing more than an illusory dream.

Jiang Hexuan gradually returned to normalcy, chatting and laughing without a trace of sorrow, living a peaceful and leisurely existence within his courtyard.

Even Su Qishan often found herself unable to fathom what the once-innocent young man was thinking.

Just as she assumed they would remain locked in this endless entanglements, sudden news arrived from Chang'an: Fifth Young Master Qin had returned.

Hearing this intelligence while on horseback, she nearly pitched headfirst out of the saddle.

Overjoyed, she cried out urgently, "Quickly pack our belongings, I am returning to Chang'an!"

Thus concluded this volume.

"Ahhhhh! This wretched girl has no conscience! How can she cut the narrative off right here?" The Duke of Zheng clawed at his hair in frustration, wishing he could storm straight to the Shanhai Bookstore, place a sword at Xu Chengyue's neck, and force her to write the manuscript.

How long would he have to wait for the next volume? Seven days! That was a full seven days.

The inability to read the continuation for even a single moment gnawed at his heart and lungs; how was he supposed to sleep tonight? Did that author possess no sense of guilt whatsoever?

No, he could not sit passively and wait. Wasn't Sanniang well-acquainted with that young lady? Perhaps there were draft manuscripts lying around; he had to go probe for intelligence.

A servant brought in a basin of water. After washing away the tear tracks from his face, the Duke of Zheng stepped out of his study with inflamed, bloodshot eyes and wandered toward the back garden.

He happened to bump into Sanniang, who shared his exact expression. Unable to wait a moment longer, he stepped forward and demanded, "Sanniang, do you happen to know what comes next?"

Zheng Sanniang had no idea why her father was posing such a question. She pouted, feeling equally aggrieved. "How could child know? To casually ask such things while chatting with Lady Xu would be far too presumptuous, making it look as though I had ulterior motives."

The Duke of Zheng's hopes were instantly shattered as if struck by lightning.

He gritted his teeth. *It's only seven days; I can afford to wait.*

Father and daughter both sported rabbit-like, crimson eyes, drooping crests and dejected postures, looking precisely like a pair of rabbits burrowed out of the same warren.

Everyone in the Duke of Zheng's household stared in utter astonishment.

Madame Zheng exclaimed in shock, "My child, what on earth happened? Why are you weeping in such a state?"

The Duke of Zheng muttered resentfully behind them, "Why isn't anyone asking me?"

Zheng Sanniang was a young lady who cared greatly for her pride, finding it deeply embarrassing to admit she had wept over a story. Yet, fearing her mother's worry, she had no choice but to tell the truth. "It's nothing. The story in the vernacular novel was simply too moving, so I cried while reading it."

The anxious Madame Zheng let out a sigh of relief, caught between laughter and tears.

Zheng Dalang, however, gloated and mocked her mercilessly. "Sanniang is truly useless, crying over a mere story. What kind of tale could possibly move you to tears?"

His remark didn't just mock one person; it dragged the Duke of Zheng into the crossfire as well.

Father and daughter exchanged a resentful glance. Exercising his paternal authority, the Duke of Zheng spoke first, fishing several books out of his sleeve and shoving them at Zheng Dalang. "You, take these books and read them through, then write an essay detailing your reflections and hand it over to me."

Zheng Dalang had never expected that merely teasing his younger sister would earn him a chore—and worse, an essay, which he despised most of all, preceded by the dreaded task of reading books.

Now, the dejected person was him. Clutching the books, he retreated unhappily to his own courtyard.

Zheng Dalang's wife, Lady Xie, caught sight of the books in his hands, her gaze flickering as she asked, "Why has Dalang purchased this book as well?"

Didn't he usually dislike reading?

"Don't even mention it. Father found me an eyesore and handed me an assignment. Judging by my wife's tone, it seems you've read it?" Zheng Dalang explained the origin of his misfortune.

"Of course I have. This book is currently quite famous in Luoyang."

Back when she was an unmarried maiden in her boudoir, she would never have dared utter such words; reading improper books was considered a breach of decorum punishable by family law.

She had assumed the rules would be even stricter after marrying into the Duke of Zheng's household. To her surprise, both her parents-in-law were remarkably lenient, free of tedious formalities, allowing her to cast off those restraints.

"Is it any good?" Zheng Dalang asked bluntly, sitting down before his desk without a trace of subtlety.

Lady Xie reined in her expression, replying with cool nonchalance, "It's quite good."

Hearing her praise it, Zheng Dalang grew rather curious, eager to see what kind of book could earn approval from a wife with such notoriously high standards.

Lady Xie quietly rose, retrieved a stack of handkerchiefs from a cabinet in the room, and sat before Zheng Dalang holding a cup of hot tea, watching with amused anticipation for his expressions to shift.

Zheng Dalang never mastered the art of concealing his expressions; his emotions were always plastered across his face, whether joy, anger, grief, or tears.

As she watched the changing expressions on his face, Lady Xie could practically guess which chapter he had reached. It was endlessly amusing.

Before long, this seven-foot-tall man buried his face in his wife's lap and wailed miserably, sobbing as he choked out, "Master Jiang is too pitiful! How could she be so cruel? Wuuwuuwuu—"

Lady Xie systematically plastered handkerchief after handkerchief across his face. She had anticipated that he would cry, but she had never expected his reaction to be this dramatic. Her initial lighthearted mood to humor him had completely evaporated into impatience.

"Alright, alright, it's just a story, is it worth crying your heart out over?" She pressed her hand against his shoulder, attempting to push him away.

Having been ruthlessly shoved aside by his wife, Zheng Dalang composed himself and abruptly recalled another matter.

With a deeply nasal voice, he asked, "Are white clothes really that stunning? To make General Su develop such an intense obsession."

*Was the obsession born because of white clothes? It was because of the person!*

Lady Xie wished nothing more than to ask whether he had absorbed anything else from the book.

Having been husband and wife for several years, she understood Zheng Dalang's temperament intimately. From his very words, she knew exactly what he was scheming.

Sure enough, he continued, "Should I perhaps commission a few sets of white robes to wear and see how they look?"

Lady Xie cast a glance at his heavily muscled, robust arms and was left utterly speechless.

*Are you honestly certain that muscular physique of yours can pull off the ethereal grace of a gentleman in flowing white robes?*

However, with a mischievous streak, she kept her thoughts to herself, eager to watch him make a fool of himself—after all, the household had been rather lacking in entertainment lately.

***

The hulking brute who had come looking for trouble at the entrance of Shanhai Bookstore a few days prior had returned once more, today intent on settling accounts with the proprietor.

He appeared even more enraged than before, his bloodshot eyes dilated wide as copper bells. "Proprietor, didn't you tell me they were just squabbling out of petty jealousy? Why weren't the crucial parts included? Can that simply be summarized as a petty squabble?"

Standing before the counter, he angrily denounced the proprietor word by word for the psychological damage caused by his misleading words.

The proprietor was at a loss for how to handle the situation when the big man's voice abruptly choked up mid-sentence.

It was as if overwhelming emotions were churning fiercely within his chest, leaving him temporarily incapable of speech. The next moment, unable to contain it any longer, he threw back his head and wailed at the top of his lungs, his booming voice shaking the entire Shanhai Bookstore.

Passersby outside turned their heads in unison to look.

The deafening cries echoing in their ears left the proprietor dumbfounded, instantly regretting his foolish decision to dupe and deceive this brute the other day.

Covering his ears, the proprietor shouted, "Hero! Brave hero! Please cease your crying for a moment. Just state whatever demands you have, and our bookstore will do its utmost to satisfy them, alright?"

Allowing him to weep indefinitely was no solution; he had to stem the tears first.

Hearing this, the hulking man finally halted his weeping, eyeing the proprietor suspiciously. "You aren't trying to trick me again, are you?"

The proprietor had entirely forfeited any credibility in the man's heart.

"Of course not! I had my hands tied last time. After all, our master imposed a strict gag order on the contents of the vernacular novel; those who had read it were forbidden from speaking of it, leaving me no choice but to speak vaguely about minor details."

The proprietor offered a sincere explanation, assuming an expression of absolute trustworthiness.

Seeing his earnest and assuring tone, the man reluctantly believed him. At the proprietor's invitation, he followed him into the back room of the bookstore.

Stepping into such a space for the first time, he looked around with curious fascination, inspecting the interior decor and furnishings.

It seemed remarkably ordinary, much like the main hall of any respectable household. Vaguely, one could discern further extensions deeper within the hall, which likely served as more crucial areas of the establishment.

"Hero, please have some tea," the proprietor said, serving a cup of steaming tea.

Having arrived initially to pick a fight, the big man felt increasingly awkward receiving such courteous treatment. "Thank you, Proprietor. I am not an unreasonable person prone to making trouble for no reason; it's simply that this book leaves me with an utterly unsettled heart."

"I understand, I understand completely. How could I not feel the exact same way when I read it?" The proprietor deeply empathized with his sentiment, knowing that while they gained access to the manuscripts slightly ahead of ordinary readers, Xu Chengyue maintained a strict schedule for delivering chapters.

Thus, upon finishing each installment, they endured the exact same torment as the readers.

To speak rather disrespectfully, he wished Xu Chengyue would neither eat nor sleep, sitting at her desk twelve hours a day to churn out pages.

"So, what are your demands? Speak them aloud, and our bookstore will satisfy you to the best of our ability—within reason, of course." This first troublemaker had to be properly placated to prevent future disasters.

Having thoroughly vented his emotions and now facing the polite proprietor, the big man began to feel he had acted rather unreasonably.

*Indeed, what does the quality of a vernacular novel have to do with the proprietor? My behavior was entirely inappropriate.*

Moreover, he was well aware that scholars generally wrote at a snail's pace, often polishing a single essay for ten days or half a month.

For the author Mingyue to maintain such a swift output was already an extreme rarity.

The burly man completely forgot that his initial reason for picking a fight was the bookstore's misleading guidance, which had led his expectations astray from the true narrative, and instead turned to self-reflection.

With this realization, the big man felt somewhat embarrassed by his previous conduct, yet the proprietor's offer proved immensely tempting. "Might I perhaps request the great Mingyue to bestow an autograph upon my copy of the book?"

He had lusted after that piece of calligraphy hanging in the main hall of the Tianxiang Tower for quite some time.

"An autograph? Is that all? Of course it can be arranged!" The proprietor patted his chest firmly, sealing the promise.

Overjoyed, the big man began chatting amiably with the proprietor regarding the book's plot, the two of them hitting it off splendidly.

By the time he stepped out of the bookstore, his demeanor had entirely transformed. Gone was the battered, wretched expression of profound devastation; instead, he strode forth full of spirit, his chest puffed out proudly.

A passerby who had witnessed his earlier theatrics asked with curiosity, "Pardon me, good sir, but whatever happened just now to make you weep so bitterly?"

The burly man scratched his head in sheepish embarrassment. "It's nothing. I was simply getting carried away with my emotions; just a trivial matter."

Someone vaguely familiar with the situation chimed in, "Could it be that this latest volume was so poorly written it actually angered you to tears?"

Hearing this, the burly man immediately bristled in defense. "How could you call it poorly written? It is exceptionally brilliant!"

Seeing he had read it, the crowd eagerly pressed forward. "What actually happens in this volume? Could it possibly surpass the serialized stories in the newspaper?"

A sudden thought sparked in the burly man's mind, and he effortlessly mastered the art of peddling falsehoods to the gullible. "Of course it's brilliant! The affection between General Su and Master Jiang is deeply moving, their bond as steadfast as gold and as harmonious as a wedded pair. Reading it simply makes one regret not having encountered someone like that in one's youth."

Discarding the actual tragic conflicts of the book, he highlighted exclusively the "sweet" daily occurrences, such as playing the zither and matching stones in go, even twisting dark realities into pure romance.

"Because Master Jiang threw a slight tantrum and destroyed all his white garments, General Su wished to comfort him upon learning of it, and personally ordered the creation of hundreds of snow-white robes overnight, crafted entirely from the finest fabrics!"

"Oh! That is truly a lavish display of wealth!" the onlookers gasped in unison.

"Listening to this hero describe it, the story sounds quite wonderful. I think I shall go buy a copy and read it."

"Count me in!"

"Me as well—"

Humans naturally harbored a herd mentality; seeing a steady stream of people entering to purchase the book suggested it must possess genuine merit, prompting them to join the rush.

Only the burly man quietly slipped away, shielding his accomplishment and fearing he might yet be unmasked and beaten.

Those who purchased the books emerged shortly after, blinking tear-reddened eyes, declaring to everyone they met, "Yes, yes, precisely so! Exceedingly sweet and thoroughly magnificent."

When asked why their eyes were red, they uniformly replied, "The writing is simply too exquisite, making one grieve why they never met such a person in their youth."

And thus, driven by word of mouth, crowds flocked to the scene once more, and a long queue formed once again outside the doors of Shanhai Bookstore.

Those who had already read the volume maintained a tacit, uniform consensus, determined not to suffer alone, and successfully lured numerous others into the trap.