Chapter 67: Feelings Begin to Stir?

Under the lingering, plaintive gaze of Zhang Yurou and the astonished stares of Zhang Mingzhi and the others, Ding Li’s face flushed for no apparent reason. It was as if he had suddenly recalled the intimate encounter he’d shared with Zhang Yurou not long ago in that pitch-dark alleyway, the unique, delicate fragrance clinging to her seeming to drift once more beneath his nose.

Then, shocking everyone present, Ding Li, determined to act with a clear conscience, gritted his teeth, steeled his resolve, and, ignoring the pain in his body, strode toward Zhang Yurou. Under her bewildered gaze, he suddenly swept her up into his arms, turned without hesitation, and continued forward, his eyes fixed ahead, not sparing so much as a glance for the dumbfounded Zhang Mingzhi at his side.

“This… this…” Zhang Mingzhi exchanged a stunned look with Zhang Wu, whose jaw hung just as slack. Neither could utter a word, unable to fathom how, in the brief time they’d been apart, things could have changed so drastically.

“Second Brother…” Zhang Wu swallowed with difficulty, moistening his throat before finally managing to speak. Staring after Ding Li’s retreating back, he stammered incredulously, “What’s going on with Sister Yurou…?”

“I have no idea,” Zhang Mingzhi replied flatly, though inwardly he was a maelstrom of conflicting emotions. He scowled, unsure himself whether what had just transpired was a blessing or a curse.

It was not until Ding Li had carried her far from the others that Zhang Yurou finally began to recover from her shock, though her heart still pounded wildly in her chest, her lovely face flushed a deep violet beneath the pale moonlight. Loosening her teeth’s gentle grip on her lip, she spoke in a barely audible, shy voice, “Brother Li, there are so many people watching…”

“I’m not blind. You were the one who said your foot hurt!” Ding Li struggled to keep his composure, forcing his voice to remain calm even as his gaze involuntarily flicked to the woman in his arms, sending his thoughts into utter disarray. Still, he forced himself to reply in a solemn tone.

At his words, Zhang Yurou bristled. True, this wasn’t their first moment of closeness, but before, it had been in the privacy of a dark alley. Now, they were in full view of everyone—her own brother among them. The thought of facing Zhang Mingzhi afterward made her even more embarrassed and angry. Frowning, she complained, “But I never said you could carry me!”

“Then why don’t I go back and let your second brother or Brother Wu do it?” Ding Li retorted without thinking, already pausing as if to turn around, his serious expression startling Zhang Yurou so much that she clung tightly to his neck, desperate to stop him, though it did no good.

Of all things, facing those two was what Zhang Yurou wanted least. In a flash of inspiration, she blurted, “No! If you dare turn around, I’ll say you took advantage of me just now!”

That brought Ding Li up short. He froze, closed his mouth, and resigned himself to pressing onward, though he felt as if the beauty in his arms was not a peerless maiden but a burning hot potato.

“Hurry up! I don’t want to see them!” Seeing her threat had worked, Zhang Yurou pressed him on, her tone firm. “And if Shouyi asks about tonight, you’re fully responsible!”

“What? Responsible for what?” As Ding Li had suspected, carrying this hot potato was no easy task. His arms were already throbbing, and he stared at Zhang Yurou in disbelief, protesting, “Sister Yurou, that’s not funny! I didn’t do anything! I’ve always been protecting you—that’s the task Second Brother gave me! And you’re the eldest miss of the Zhang Trading House. I can’t possibly take that responsibility!”

“I don’t care!” Zhang Yurou’s privileged temperament flared up. Ignoring Ding Li’s grimace, she pinched him hard at the waist, her beautiful eyes flashing coldly as she warned, “If Shouyi asks, you’re responsible! You took it upon yourself—nothing to do with me!”

“How is it nothing to do with you?” Ding Li blurted out, only to wince as she pinched him again. Wisely, he fell silent. Thinking back, it was true—he had indeed acted on his own both times he’d carried her, without ever asking her opinion. Resigned, he nodded and lapsed into brooding silence, his face a picture of inner turmoil and discontent.

“Second Brother, could it be we were right this afternoon?” Zhang Wu, watching Ding Li’s aborted turn, grew even more bewildered by the pair’s odd behavior. He leaned close to Zhang Mingzhi and whispered, “What’s really going on with Sister Yurou? Is it really a case of ‘one thing conquers another’?”

“There’s no need for all that nonsense!” Zhang Mingzhi shot him an irritated look, his brow creasing even further. He was not so simple-minded as his companion—after all, the woman in Ding Li’s arms was his own sister. His thoughts were in utter disorder.

The Zhang Trading House branch in Fuxu Town quickly dispatched carriages and escorts, sending Zhang Mingzhi, Ding Li, and the others back to the Zhang residence in East City that very night. As soon as they arrived, the household was thrown into an uproar—the young master had suffered attacks two days in a row in the city, no small matter. The resident physicians were run ragged, and even the local garrison was mobilized. A general on night duty arrived with several officers to pay his respects, while a squad of regular soldiers was stationed near the Zhang residence, the patrol range of the garrison expanding by a whole circle.

Though Zhang Mingzhi insisted there was no need to make such a fuss, the officers would not relent. Only after a string of orders were issued did Ding Li finally understand—their actions were not merely out of concern or goodwill, but also for the generous rewards the Zhang Trading House was known to bestow. As the officers departed, Zhang Mingzhi instructed Zhang Wu to bring out ten trays of rewards—piles of gold leaves, a universal currency accepted both in Tang and overseas, their value most stable.

Back at the residence, Zhang Yurou was the first to receive care, keeping the physicians busy. Fortunately, as Ding Li had surmised, her injury was merely a bruised tendon. After prescribing a host of internal and external remedies, the exhausted Zhang Yurou was sent to rest at Xiyun Court.

Ding Li and Zhang Wu had more injuries, but none were serious. Their robust constitutions meant that, after careful bandaging, they were in no real danger. Once matters were settled, Ding Li was assigned a guest room to rest. Dawn’s light was already brightening the horizon, but fatigue did nothing to dampen his drowsiness.

Yet as soon as he lay down on the soft, warm bed, sleep eluded him. Whenever he closed his eyes, the image of a woman appeared in his mind. What surprised him most was that it was not Liu Sheng, with whom he’d spent months together in Guangzhou, but Zhang Yurou, whom he’d known for less than twelve hours.

Just then came a knock at the door.

“Ali? Are you asleep?” Zhang Mingzhi’s familiar voice called.

“Oh, not yet!” Ding Li replied instinctively. Sitting up, he remembered Zhang Yurou’s earlier warning and groaned inwardly, rubbing his head in distress. Still, he had no choice but to get up and open the door.

“Second Brother, aren’t you tired?” Ding Li asked, glancing past Zhang Mingzhi to confirm he was alone, before forcing a relaxed smile.

“You’re not asleep either,” Zhang Mingzhi said, smiling back. Noting Ding Li’s swollen eyes, he apologized, “Did I wake you? Had you just fallen asleep?”

“No, it’s fine!” Ding Li replied, not knowing how to answer, nor even which question to address. He shook his head and stepped aside to let his guest in, asking uncertainly, “Is there something important, Second Brother?”

“It’s not too urgent, but I thought I’d tell you in advance,” Zhang Mingzhi nodded, stepping into the room. At his words, Ding Li’s expression changed, then quickly returned to normal as he followed Zhang Mingzhi to the table, pouring him a cup of cool tea before sitting down and feigning calm.

“It’s late, so I’ll get right to the point,” Zhang Mingzhi said, pushing aside the tea untouched. He hesitated, then looked Ding Li in the eye and continued, “Last night’s events will definitely cripple the Cao family’s power in Fuxu Town. The main men there were Cao You and Cao Hai—one dead, one wounded. The Cao clan will be in chaos. For now, no one in Fuxu Town can stand in the way of our Zhang family.”

“I see. You mean the pleasure boats on Little South Lake?” Ding Li caught his meaning at once.

“Exactly!” Zhang Mingzhi nodded heavily. “Speed is vital. With the Cao clan in disarray, they can’t help Fifth Hua and his lot. Take him out, and Little South Lake will be ours!”

“Understood. I’ll have Brother Wu accompany me,” Ding Li agreed without hesitation, then paused, frowning as he asked quietly, “Second Brother, what about Lu Dachi of the Mongol Gang…?”

“What? Do you take me for a man who breaks his word?” Zhang Mingzhi raised an eyebrow, half-smiling as he looked at Ding Li, then waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry. I always keep my promises. Besides, Lu Dachi is a man who knows the times. If he keeps his head down and works steadily, he’ll always be a brother to our Zhang family.”

“With your assurance, I know what to do,” Ding Li replied, relief plain in his voice. He took a deep drink of his tea, then, almost despite himself, asked, “Second Brother, is there anything else?”

“No, just the matter of the pleasure boats,” Zhang Mingzhi said, rising to leave. As Ding Li breathed a silent sigh of relief, Zhang Mingzhi suddenly paused at the door and turned back, his brow furrowed. “Ali, let me ask you—last night, you and my sister… what happened?”

“Ah?” The very question Ding Li had dreaded. Flustered, he glanced at Zhang Mingzhi and tried to play dumb. “Second Brother, Sister Yurou and I… what do you mean?”

“Never mind.” Zhang Mingzhi saw the flicker of panic in Ding Li’s eyes but could not bring himself to press further. After a moment’s hesitation, he placed a heavy hand on Ding Li’s shoulder and said gravely, “Ali, I truly think of you as a brother. But my sister is my flesh and blood. In this matter, I cannot tolerate even a speck of sand. Ali, you are a married man.”

With that, there was nothing more to add. He patted Ding Li’s shoulder again and left, his steps heavy, leaving Ding Li staring after him, dumbstruck.

“Have I truly developed feelings for her?”

For a long time, Ding Li shook his dazed head, then leapt onto the bed, yanking the covers over himself as though, like an ostrich, he could hide from danger by burying his head.

Even Ding Li himself could not make sense of his feelings. Zhang Mingzhi was right—he was a married man, with Liu Sheng waiting for him in Guangzhou. Yet at that moment, it seemed to him that with Liu Sheng, something was always missing; everything he did for her stemmed purely from a sense of duty as a man.