Rejected Beauty Practices the Villain Play
Chapter 219 Eyes

Chapter 219: Chapter 219 Eyes

"Mother knows, Ayu is the most understanding." Su Yuejiao gently stroked her face. She didn’t wish for both daughters to marry into the Marquis Mansion, but the matter had already been decided, and there was no way to change it. She could only resign herself to fate.

"I’m sorry. It was my willfulness that caused you to worry."

Feng Changqing wanted to punish Fengyu, but looking at her obedient and aggrieved demeanor, he couldn’t bear it. Fengyu’s eyes reddened, softening Feng Changqing’s heart, making him think that such an obedient daughter must have been wronged by Xie Xun.

Su Yuejiao, however, was anxious. Thankfully, there was only one more month until Feng Shu and Xie Zhang’s wedding, ensuring no surprises. Otherwise, the matter between Fengyu and Xie Xun would surely cause an uproar.

The flesh of the palm and the back of the hand are both precious; she simply hoped both daughters could live safely and happily.

"Ayu, we don’t blame you." Su Yuejiao softly asked, "Do you like him?"

Fengyu smiled openly and nodded. "I like him."

"That’s good!"

If the Marquis agreed to this marriage, then when Dugu Jing requested Fengyu be sent as a concubine, the Marquis should have explained the situation to Emperor Jianming. Instead, the Marquis remained silent, leaving Xie Zhang to speak up and oppose the marriage, showing the Marquis’ reluctance.

Later, when Princess Huazhen insisted that Fengyu become a concubine, Xie Xun stepped in to mediate, which led to the Marquis’ tacit approval. Fearing unforeseen complications, Xie Xun also petitioned Emperor Jianming to grant the marriage, displaying his sense of responsibility.

Regarding the children’s marriages, they would negotiate with the Marquis Mansion. Su Yuejiao cautioned, "Marriage is a major affair. Mother will discuss it with the Marchioness. You mustn’t privately promise Xie Xun anything."

"Alright." Fengyu liked to feign obedience, but she wasn’t a conventional girl. The marriage was settled; when and how it would proceed, she was willing to leave it to the elders to arrange.

Once Feng Changqing and Su Yuejiao left the tent, Fengyu’s heart finally relaxed. Feng Shu chuckled, "Are you happy now?"

"Sis, you never help me," Fengyu pouted, "My knees hurt so badly from kneeling."

"The rugs are so thick. You can’t possibly be in pain." Feng Shu snorted, "The day Father returned to the city, I saw you leaving the city with Xie Xun. And you even dared to lie to me when you came back."

"I was forced!" Fengyu hadn’t expected their clandestine meeting to be seen by so many. If her sister had seen it, surely Xie Zhang had too.

The Second Young Master and Brother Chu Ning had seen it as well!

Fengyu felt both awkward and ashamed.

"You like Xie Xun so much but were forced into a clandestine meeting with him?"

"It wasn’t a clandestine meeting!" Fengyu’s face turned crimson as she argued, "There were just some matters we needed to clarify."

"Did the clarification fail, leaving you entangled instead?"

Fengyu was more honest in front of her sister. "That day, he said he liked me, and I rejected him."

"Then why did you agree later?"

"I...," Fengyu said petulantly, "He was too overbearing. I couldn’t refuse."

Feng Shu: "..."

Several days of hunting, in the context of diplomatic negotiations, could be considered satisfactory. Yanyang fulfilled all the terms of the negotiations. Due to Sannan’s growing unrest and provocations, Yanyang continuously endured Dugu Jing’s demands. Both Xie Zhang and Xie Jue sustained severe injuries. Although the Marquis Mansion suffered losses, Yanyang came out victorious.

On the day of their return journey, the weather was sunny and pleasant. Fengyu sat in a carriage, observing the Beiman troops. Dugu Jing and the Priest walked at the forefront. When Fengyu lifted the carriage’s curtain, she happened to meet Dugu Jing’s gaze. She couldn’t help but think of the look in his eyes during the banquet when he brazenly named her, and she felt a chill in her heart.

If not for hidden threats from Sannan, Dugu Jing surely wouldn’t have been so audacious during these negotiations. The Beiman and Sannan seemed to be colluding, and there were whispers that someone within the court was passing information to them.

She felt a vague sense of unease!

Having dealt with Dugu Jing and the Beiman before, Fengyu knew them to be straightforward, impulsive, and easily angered. Dugu Jing’s demand to kill Xie Jue during the negotiations had been met with calm resolve during the hunting contest—it seemed he had accomplices and might have known the trump cards Yanyang held for the negotiations.

Suspicion gnawed at her. Having interacted with the Beiman for two years, Xie Jue must have noticed something. But the Second Young Master’s eyes... The Imperial Physician said they were beyond saving. If he were to live his life in darkness, how could he endure?

Xie Jue remained composed, sitting in the carriage with his eyes covered by a strip of silk a half-finger wide. His hair was meticulously groomed, his demeanor refined, his posture upright. Since waking, he hadn’t spoken of his blindness or betrayed any signs of losing control.

Fang Chuning shared the carriage with him, leaning against its wall as he watched Xie Jue. Though Fang Chuning’s injuries were more severe, his body would recover, whereas Xie Jue’s eyes never would.

Fang Chuning lightly placed his fingers on the carriage window, his veined hand illuminated in the sunlight. He wanted to kill Dugu Jing. For the first time in his life, this desire burned so fiercely—wanting to gouge out Dugu Jing’s eyes, to crush them underfoot. Yet, he could do nothing. If Dugu Jing were harmed within Yanyang’s borders, the negotiations would collapse, and the sacrifices of countless lives for these talks would be rendered meaningless. Fang Chuning would become the sinner of Yanyang.

What would Ting Feng do?

Having lost his eyesight, how would he resolve this?

Xie Jue’s temperament was cool and unflinching, rarely showing emotion. But that didn’t mean he was impervious to pain or despair. Since waking, his silence, refusal to eat, and avoidance of the subject revealed his anguish.

His collapse was concealed beneath his calm exterior.

Xie Jue reached toward the table beside him, still unaccustomed to the dark and nearly knocking over the teacup. Fang Chuning leaned forward and grabbed his wrist, "Do you want water?"

In the darkness, tactile impressions became sharper; Fang Chuning’s warm grasp was familiar and reassuring. Xie Jue barely resisted before Fang Chuning released his hand to pour half a cup of tea.

The tea was scalding. Fang Chuning blew lightly on it, repeatedly ensuring it was no longer too hot before placing it in Xie Jue’s hand. Xie Jue drank, soothing his throat. Fang Chuning poured another half-cup, warming it before handing it to him again.

Fang Chuning was uncharacteristically anxious. He would rather Xie Jue cry, despair, and vent his emotions than remain composed. Such dramatic changes, with lifelong effects, could not be brushed aside.

Years ago, when Xie Xun broke his leg and had to be sent back to the capital, doomed never to return to the battlefield, he fought with the Marquis viciously. He even defied all familial decorum, nearly coming to blows. In a fit of madness, he rode at night to the Shaling River, immersing himself in its freezing waters. The commotion left everyone frantic, and the Marquis nearly broke his other leg in a fury.

Still, there was hope for Xie Xun’s recovery. How could Xie Jue possibly reconcile himself to permanent blindness?

"Hungry?" Fang Chuning asked.

Xie Jue shook his head, remaining silent. He could feel the carriage window being opened—a hint of early summer heat seeping in. Sweat gradually beaded on the bridge of Xie Jue’s nose. Fang Chuning frowned, half-kneeling before him, his palm resting upon Xie Jue’s nape, where it encountered slick dampness.

Xie Jue reacted slightly sluggishly, attempting to resist, but the palm had already made contact with the pale, jade-like skin of his nape. Fang Chuning’s hand, coarser and warmer, lightly grazed that tender area.

The close contact felt ticklish, and Xie Jue instinctively shrank his nape.

Fang Chuning watched as that patch of pale skin turned a rosy hue before his eyes, his gaze dark and brooding.

"Where does it hurt?" Fang Chuning asked, his voice hoarse.

From their youth, Fang Chuning had shared a bed with Xie Jue and knew his constitution well. He wasn’t resistant to heat, but rather, sensitive to the cold. During Ningzhou’s blistering summers, other men reeked of sweat, while Xie Jue remained impeccably dressed, his serenity cooling his body. Sweating in the early summer could only mean pain—though Zhang Lingzheng had prescribed medication for him, the results were negligible, and at night, soft groans could occasionally be heard from Xie Jue.