The most foolish in the world

Chapter 50

He appeared to be going mad, staggered a few steps, kicked the broken door frame on the ground, and finally rushed out the door.

Fan Qingbo finally realized what was happening, let out a low cry, then pushed Xie Dongfeng aside and chased after him.

As soon as the two left, Xie Dongfeng pulled out his abacus without a word and began calculating his losses in order to claim compensation. Gongye Bai looked at Xie Dongfeng, who was completely absorbed in money and had no recollection of almost being strangled, and said knowingly, "Are you happy now?"

While deftly manipulating the abacus beads, Xie Dongfeng snorted, "I lost a wife, so of course I have to get something back."

Gongye Bai stroked his chin. "But I've heard that recently some people in the court have been making a big fuss about Xie Yiren's identity as the daughter of a traitor, intending to attack you? If I'm not mistaken, even if Xiao Fan doesn't remarry, you'll still arrange for 'Xie Yiren' to disappear, right?"

"...Ahem, it's getting late, goodnight, Xiaobai."

•

Fan Qingbo chased after him, but couldn't find the scholar anywhere. It was already late at night, and the streets were deserted; she had nowhere to ask. She stood helplessly on the street, looking around at the darkness, her heart filled with panic and unease.

After a while, she realized that while the monk could run away, the temple couldn't; she could go home and wait.

Thinking this, she quickened her pace towards Qingmo Workshop. She stopped after only a few steps. What if he left the capital in a fit of anger? He was a man of the martial world, with no relatives or friends in the capital, not even a maid or servant in his household; leaving would be very easy for him.

On second thought, he realized he still had an account book at home to make a living, so he probably wouldn't just leave.

She walked on and on, until a light drizzle began to fall, carrying the heavy chill of autumn. She involuntarily shivered, momentarily clearing her head, only to quickly become drowsy again. A sense of resignation took hold; she was too lazy to seek shelter under the eaves or pull up her coat for protection. She even slowed her pace, taking a walk in the first autumn rain.

Her thin clothes were quickly soaked by the rain, and her disguise was haphazard, making her look neither human nor ghost, yet a sense of exhilarating pleasure rose within her. Her previous worries seemed to lessen considerably, and her mind became clearer, so she began to think about how to explain her background to the scholar.

She had always ignored others' misunderstandings, but this time she was so flustered when she met the scholar, simply because he was none other than her chosen husband. Although she was somewhat indifferent to romantic relationships, she valued marriage extremely. She had always loved the feeling of home, which was why she chose to live in the bustling Qingmo Lane, why she took in the ill man of unknown origin, and why she decided to marry the warm and reliable scholar.

She wanted her child to be born into a harmonious and warm home, so this explanation had to be concise and to the point of being effective.

—Fan Qingbo refused to imagine the scenario where the scholar left or refused to listen to her explanation.

I don't know how long I walked alone, but when I was almost at Qingmofang, I suddenly felt a figure swiftly pass by me.

Standing there, stunned and wondering if she was seeing things, the figure returned, this time with an umbrella above her head.

Author's Note: Ahem, the next chapter will definitely feature the wedding night.

34. A moment of spring night is worth a thousand pieces of gold.

Fan Qingbo stared blankly at the man holding the umbrella for her, almost unable to believe her eyes.

The scholar was even more surprised than she was. He stared wide-eyed at his hands, seemingly unable to believe his own spontaneous action.

Noticing his momentary hesitation, Fan Qingbo, without thinking, instinctively raised her hand and gripped his tightly, pulling him closer. In her haste, her head bumped against his chest. Her mind was in turmoil, so she lowered her head, contemplating how to begin, whether to reveal Xie Yiren's entire background, unaware of the immense trouble her actions were causing the man.

Her cold, damp fingers touched the back of his hand, sending a chill down his spine. Then she threw herself into his arms, soaking his clothes as she nestled against his chest, her breath warm. The sudden shifts in temperature mirrored his emotions that night—one moment ecstatic, the next icy desolation. The difference between life and death was razor-thin, and the one who controlled that line was the seemingly docile woman in his arms.

One moment she was utterly cruel, the next she was tender and affectionate. Which one is the real her?

He should have pushed her away, or at the very least, questioned her about why she had toyed with him. He shouldn't have been standing there helplessly, staring at her hair, his mind a jumble of conflicting thoughts, wondering if it was all a misunderstanding?

Finally, she lifted her head from his embrace, her rain-soaked, misty eyes looking at him, her slightly pale lips moving slightly.

Achoo!

He sprayed snot and saliva all over his face.

His lips twitched, and he couldn't bear it any longer, letting out a long howl. Then, to her horrified surprise, he threw away the umbrella and pulled her into his arms...

"here it is?"

When Fan Qingbo was put down, he found himself in a cave, with a faint smell of sulfur filling his nostrils. His mind instantly conjured up scenes of murder and burial. The scholar, familiar with the place, walked to a spot, picked up a tinderbox, and lit an oil lamp, gradually illuminating the surroundings.

"A hot spring?" Fan Qingbo looked at the bubbling pool in surprise. "Is this Xishan?"

In the capital city, only the area near Taiqing Temple in the Western Hills has hot springs, and the Western Hills are also the place where the emperor worships his ancestors, so unauthorized people are not allowed to enter.

The scholar turned his head away, remaining silent. Fan Qingbo finally remembered the misunderstanding between them. Although his return reassured her somewhat, considering his unusual thought process, she cautiously smiled and tentatively asked, "You brought me here to drown me in your anger?"

Seeing him turn around with a surprised look on his face, she felt a little relieved. "You brought me to the hot spring because you were worried I'd catch a cold?"

The scholar's expression changed, and he turned his back to her, snorting, "It's the one in front."

Despite saying this, he walked behind a boulder and started a fire.

Knowing he was being hypocritical and still cared about her, Fan Qingbo's anxiety, which had been hanging in suspense all night, finally subsided. With her mind at ease, her thoughts became clearer. Having gained leverage, she immediately felt much lighter, sneezed a few more times, and finally felt cold. While mentally planning how to coax the scholar back, she took off her soaking wet clothes.

There was a splash behind him as she plunged into the water. The scholar, as if struck by a sudden thought, froze. Then, a blur appeared before his eyes, and several pieces of women's clothing rained down from the sky, accompanied by an intimate female voice: "Good scholar, please help me dry my clothes."

Fan Qingbo hurriedly chased after him, not having time to remove her disguise. Although she washed off her makeup, her voice still retained Xie Yiren's gentle and charming quality. The scholar felt half of his body go numb, and at the same time, a surge of anger rose within him. He stiffly tore off the wet clothes that had fallen on him and gritted his teeth, saying, "Fan, Jie—" He couldn't call her Miss Fan, and he didn't want to call her Madam Jie either. He could only say hatefully, "You, you, a married woman, how can you be so indecent!"

Why would you use a voice that would mislead him to do something that would mislead him to do something?

As soon as the words left his mouth, he remembered that he had brought her, a married woman, to the desolate countryside, leaving a lonely man and woman alone in a room, and his face flushed with embarrassment. The scholar regretted his uncontrollable actions, his heart conflicted, wondering how Fan Qingbo, with her sharp tongue, would ridicule him.

But then a woman's voice chuckled behind her, "How could I not know that it's indecent to ask my husband to dry my clothes for me?"

Upon hearing this, a string in the scholar's mind suddenly tightened. "Who are you talking about?!"

It was that same lazy, soft female voice: "Who else could it be but you? You're the only man I have. Sigh, even though I'm pretending to be sick and marrying in place of my master, you can't go back on your word. I'm so pitiful, I just got married, and now he doesn't want me anymore. All that sacrifice and blackmail for him..."

Are there really such shameless people who turn the tables and blame others?

Fan Qingbo spoke slowly, his face calm and composed, his eyes fixed on the movement on the other side of the boulder, but he could only see the leaping flames. He couldn't see the person, only hear his voice, urgent and low: "You, you're talking nonsense again! You are clearly, you are—"

He stopped abruptly, leaving only a series of suppressed breaths of anger.