Chapter 21.2

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Xie Zheng paused for a moment, pressing his fingers against his brow, and patiently clarified, “If you bring them to live with you, you’ll be obligated to support them. But if the money is in your hands, it’s up to you whether you give it to them or not.”

Fan Changyu immediately lit up, slapping the desk with excitement. “That’s a great idea! It might be a bit underhanded, but when it comes to dealing with Fan Da’s family, it’s totally justified! How do you know all this?”

Xie Zheng glanced at the desk, which wobbled for a good while after her slap, and didn’t doubt for a second that if she had used a bit more force, it might have collapsed on the spot.

His slender fingers turned to the next page of the book resting on his knee. Without so much as a flicker of guilt, he lied with a steady composure, “Traveling as much as I have, you naturally hear all kinds of strange tales. There was a wealthy merchant’s daughter who married a live-in son-in-law but had her property contested by her relatives. She hired a renowned local lawyer, and this was the solution he came up with.”

Fan Changyu sincerely praised, “That lawyer must have been really clever!”

Xie Zheng didn’t respond, though the corners of his lips twitched ever so slightly.

Fan Changyu glanced at him sheepishly. “Um… since we already have a solution, can I skip the memorizing part?”

Reciting was an agonizing task for her. These dense, convoluted laws made her head spin even more than the scholarly essays filled with archaic phrasing.

Xie Zheng replied calmly, “If, in court, you can confidently answer which specific clause of the law you’re citing, then you don’t have to memorize it.”

Fan Changyu wanted to suggest that Xie Zheng accompany her to court, but remembering his injured leg—and the fact that court proceedings required kneeling—she realized it would likely aggravate his condition. Swallowing her words, she resigned herself to her task, her face scrunching up like a steamed bun as she reluctantly continued to memorize.

Meanwhile, Xie Zheng casually flipped through the miscellaneous book in his hands. Her recitation, initially steady if soft, gradually devolved into fragmented mumbling. Unable to resist, he lifted his gaze to check on her.

In the next moment, he saw her weary head droop onto the desk, her breathing slow and steady as she drifted off to sleep.

Xie Zheng: “…”

The one who was supposed to be learning had fallen asleep, while he, the one keeping her company, was still awake.

It was the first time Xie Zheng had seen her so closely while she slept. The candlelight cast long shadows from her lashes, her fair cheeks softly illuminated. Her lips were slightly pursed, her entire demeanor a stark contrast to her usual liveliness—serene and quiet.

Yet even in sleep, she seemed troubled. Her brows knitted faintly, stray strands of hair falling loosely over her face, as if a mist of worry lingered between her brows.

Realizing he had been staring for too long, Xie Zheng frowned and averted his gaze. He was about to wake her and tell her to return to her room to rest when he caught a faint murmur from her lips: “Mother…”

The word was muffled, tinged with a nasal tone, as though she were crying in her dreams.

Xie Zheng frowned again and looked back at her. Her head rested on her arm, pressing down a few strands of dark hair. Under the flickering candlelight, her face seemed even smaller, no larger than a palm.

He had noticed before that she was thin, but her vibrant energy had always overshadowed everything else. Now, seeing her half-leaning on the desk, she didn’t just appear thin—there was a fragile quality to her.

A strange and unfamiliar feeling stirred in his chest. Xie Zheng’s gaze lingered on her for a moment longer, his already fine brows furrowing even deeper.

***

At the crack of dawn, Fan Changyu woke as usual. The room was pitch-black, and as she tried to move, she realized her arms and legs had gone numb.

The memories of the night before came rushing back, and she suddenly remembered she must have fallen asleep at the desk. Pulling out a firestarter, she lit it to illuminate the room just enough.

The oil lamp on the desk had burned out, and as she turned to find a candle, she noticed Xie Zheng had also fallen asleep beside her. To her surprise, part of her sleeve was trapped beneath him. She tugged hard to free it, the motion startling him awake.

When their eyes met, his gaze was sharp and cold, like a blade cutting through the dim room. Fan Changyu froze for a moment, thinking to herself how intense his morning temper seemed. “Did I wake you?”

He stared at her, the fierceness in his eyes quickly fading. Yet for some reason, his brows remained tightly knit, and there was even a faint red mark on his pale, handsome face from where he had been leaning.

Fan Changyu awkwardly said, “So, you fell asleep reading too?”

He responded with a vague, noncommittal grunt.

Fan Changyu stood and said, “I’ll go find a candle.”

The firestarter in her hand couldn’t burn for long and provided limited light. As soon as she stood up, the numbness in her legs hadn’t fully worn off, and she toppled sideways.

With a loud crash, both she and Xie Zheng went tumbling to the ground, chairs and all. The firestarter slipped from her hand, extinguished as it hit the floor.

Fan Changyu groaned, her arms and legs throbbing from multiple bumps and scrapes. Wincing, she realized that Xie Zheng had likely borne the brunt of the fall, acting as an unfortunate cushion beneath her. Scrambling to her feet in the dark, she quickly groped around to help him up. “Are you okay? Did I reopen your injuries?”

“I’m fine,” he replied, though his tone sounded strained.

It was obvious he wasn’t fine. For the next two days, he didn’t even get out of bed.

Fan Changyu suspected he was angry with her. Over those two days, he was noticeably colder toward her—speaking as little as possible and avoiding her whenever he could.

Even when he couldn’t avoid her, Xie Zheng would either refuse to look at her or furrow his brows when he did.

Fan Changyu had already apologized, but although he insisted it was fine, his quiet withdrawal suggested otherwise. She couldn’t figure out what she had done wrong. When she encountered difficulties memorizing the legal clauses, she wanted to ask him for help, but in the end, she didn’t have the nerve.

Over the past two days, she practiced reciting the laws at home and during quiet moments at her shop, pulling out the sheets of paper to silently go over them. Eventually, she managed to memorize most of it and even arranged for a few neighbors to act as witnesses.

On the morning of the court hearing, she thought about Xie Zheng’s odd behavior over the last two days and decided to say something. She went to the southern room where he was resting and said, “Your handwriting is neat. If you have time today, draft the divorce agreement. Once I’ve transferred ownership of my parents’ property, I’ll come back and sign it. When your injuries heal, you can go wherever you want.”

He had made it clear from the beginning that he would leave once his injuries recovered. The only explanation she could think of for his recent aloofness was that he might fear she would go back on her word, keeping the property but refusing to follow through on their agreement.

Giving him the divorce agreement now would probably put him at ease.