After Marrying My Ex-Fiancé’s Younger Brother

Taking a deep breath, Liu Chuirong discreetly marked the suspicious entries, planning to go over them more carefully once she returned to her own courtyard.

She suspected that the dowry Madam Li had handed her was merely for show—its actual value had likely been hollowed out. Though her heart burned with anger and frustration, she forced herself to remain composed.

By the time she finished reviewing all the account books, night had already fallen. Lvzhu had also returned from gathering information and was waiting outside.

Seeing her mistress step out, Lvzhu quickly picked up a cloak and draped it over her shoulders. Leaning in, she whispered, “Miss, I’ve found out everything—” but was interrupted by Liu Chuirong’s subtle hand gesture.

Just then, a flash of lightning streaked across the sky, followed by a deep rumble of thunder.

Liu Chuirong signaled for Lvzhu to look behind her. Sure enough, Nanny Liu was hiding behind a corridor pillar, watching her intently. Lvzhu swallowed back the words she was about to say.

Realizing she had been caught, Nanny Liu could no longer stay hidden. She stepped out from behind the pillar.

“Is there something else, Nanny Liu?” Liu Chuirong asked softly, though her heart was filled with vigilance.

Nanny Liu lowered her head and replied, “Madam is worried the roads may be slippery at night. She sent me to escort you back. Let me carry the account books for you.”

“I appreciate the trouble, Nanny Liu.” Liu Chuirong handed over the books with a calm expression, though her fingers subconsciously tightened around the edge of her sleeve.

On the way back, Nanny Liu subtly probed her about the discrepancies in the ledgers, feigning concern about possible embezzlement. In reality, she was testing whether Liu Chuirong had noticed the falsifications.

Liu Chuirong inwardly scoffed but maintained an indifferent facade, casually responding to the inquiries.

Meanwhile, at the Duke of Wei’s estate, a cold moon hung high in the sky. Shen Jingzhi stood at the gate, stopping a guard from announcing his arrival before walking straight in.

Unknowingly, he arrived at Shen Qinghan’s courtyard and saw that the lights inside were still on.

“You’re here,” Shen Qinghan said, unsurprised.

“I saw your lights still on. Are you unable to sleep again because of the pain in your leg?”

Ever since Shen Qinghan was ordered to the northern frontier two years ago to reclaim lost territory, he had fallen into the treacherous hands of the An Kingdom’s forces. A poisoned arrow had struck his legs, and he was hung at the city gates for three days and three nights. Had it not been for Elder Jiang leading men to rescue him, he would have drawn his last breath then and there.

Fortunately, he was saved in time, clinging to life by the slimmest of margins. Yet, the poison within him had already taken its toll, and the imperial physicians declared that he would not live beyond five years.

Now, he could only sustain his life through ginseng. But the poison had corroded the meridians in his legs, leaving him unable to walk ever again.

Shen Jingzhi looked at his elder brother’s weary face and crippled legs, a storm of pain and fury surging in his chest. He silently swore that he would uncover the mastermind behind this and avenge his brother.

“I’ll have someone make you a warming lap blanket another day. It’s still too cold in here, and the braziers aren’t enough. I’ll send a few more over tomorrow.” Shen Jingzhi glanced around the room, feeling that nothing was quite right.

“You really take me for a snowman, huh? It’s already warm enough. If I were one, I’d probably have melted from the heat of your concern by now,” Shen Qinghan said helplessly.

Seeing Shen Jingzhi remain silent, he knew there was no room for negotiation. His younger brother had been stubborn since childhood—once he set his mind on something, no one could change it. There was no point in arguing.

Shen Qinghan had always been strong-willed, disliking arrangements made for him. Now, he had even refused their father’s noble title, insisting on joining the Cold Tribunal, spending his days in blood and battle. Shen Qinghan wondered if he would even live to see his brother marry, let alone find a woman in the capital brave enough to marry him.

At that thought, Shen Qinghan suddenly recalled something. He reached under his desk, retrieved a command token and a dagger from a hidden compartment, and placed them before his brother.

“Mo Ran personally delivered these to the manor today. Said a young lady asked him to pass them on to you, dagger included.” Shen Qinghan deliberately dragged out the words “young lady,” his teasing tone obvious.

Yet Shen Jingzhi’s face remained utterly calm. He took the items naturally and tucked them away, making Shen Qinghan even more curious about who this woman might be.

“Come on, indulge your brother’s curiosity a little.”

Shen Jingzhi only felt a headache coming on. He silently cursed Mo Ran’s lack of sense—this could have been handed over tomorrow at the Cold Tribunal. Why go through the trouble of delivering it to the manor, and worse, right into his brother’s hands?

“No one special, just a relative of ours. I lent a small helping hand, that’s all. You’re overthinking it.”

“A relative?” Shen Qinghan ran through the family tree in his mind but couldn’t recall any female cousins in the capital. His suspicions deepened.

“Mm.” Shen Jingzhi maintained his composure, but inwardly, he was tense, fearing that his brother would catch on.

No one could know about him and Liu Chuirong. If word got out, it would only invite scandal. For him, it meant nothing, but for her, it could ruin her reputation.

A man and a woman, alone together for an entire night—worse still, a future sister-in-law and her brother-in-law. No matter how innocent, gossip could turn the purest into the sullied.

“Oh?” Shen Qinghan raised an eyebrow. “You’re telling me you just helped someone out in passing? And you expect me to believe that?”

If it were just a simple favor, a command token would have sufficed. But that dagger—that meant something else entirely.

After all, that dagger had been the first and only gift their father had ever given Shen Jingzhi. Even when Shen Qinghan was young and wanted to take a look, he wouldn’t allow it. And now, he had handed it over so easily to someone else.