Chapter Five

Judging from his personality, Wu Yingke is indeed a deeply contradictory individual. In fact, the closer Lin Feng became to his wife, the more he found himself suspicious. He discovered that this lady was hardly a product of the seventeenth century; she knew nothing of needlework or the virtues of a gentlewoman, and apart from her lack of worship for money, she seemed no different from a modern city woman of the twenty-first century.

If that were all, it might have been tolerable, but what truly made her unbearable was her fascination with violence—or rather, her intense interest in Chinese martial arts. Had Lin Feng himself been a martial arts master, this would not have been an issue. Unfortunately, His Highness the Prince was never particularly enthusiastic about Chinese martial arts. Though he once resolved to give it a try, it was not like reading or writing; without a foundation, practicing martial arts was a miserable ordeal. After a few days of horse stance, Lin Feng was forced to abandon the unrealistic notion.

To be honest, though Lin Feng now stood high above others and wielded power, he harbored no desire for a harem of wives. This was not an act for his ministers; by current moral and legal standards, his position made it entirely reasonable for him to take several concubines. In fact, before marrying Wu Yingke, he was hardly a model of chastity—he had left behind a few romantic affairs in various corners of Beijing. Such matters were only understood by Li Er Gou and a handful of his personal guards. After his marriage to Wu Yingke, he gradually lost contact with those amorous women.

His attitude was peculiar indeed, and Lin Feng himself was puzzled. He had no idea whom to consult, and history offered no precedent. In traditional Chinese thought, nobles and royalty took many wives not solely for pleasure, but to expand their progeny—a notion that struck Lin Feng as disconcerting. He was not exactly avant-garde, yet the idea of being reduced to a mere tool for procreation was utterly unacceptable to him.

Once he had settled his thoughts, his words became more assured. With his understanding of martial arts, Lin Feng—who had studied martial arts novels since childhood—could easily dazzle his wife. Eventually, these martial arts debates became one-sided, and Wu Yingke was powerless to respond; their discussions turned into scholarly exchanges. In this process, Lin Feng noticed that Wu Yingke deeply admired Zhang Sanfeng of the Wudang sect and was enamored of the "Daoist martial arts" he described, often offering constructive suggestions.

"Hmph! Nonsense!"

"Ahem, ahem, all right, let me explain clearly today—wait, could you let go of my hand first..." Lin Feng pulled back his arm and rubbed it. "Honestly, my martial arts were once superb, but in the end, I forgot them..."

"Nonsense! How could that happen?"

"Why not? Didn't I tell you before? Once you reach the highest level in martial arts, you experience a 'return to simplicity'—do you remember?"

"So returning to simplicity means forgetting all your skills?" Wu Yingke sneered.

"Ah, that's where you're mistaken. Each school is different, and their ultimate states vary. The style I practiced often leads to this phenomenon," Lin Feng explained, seeing skepticism on Wu Yingke's face. "If you don't believe me, you can ask my generals. When I raised an army in Fujian, I fought on the front lines, charging into enemy ranks. Zhao Guangyuan and Wang Dahai respected me because my martial arts were exquisite. When our forces were defeated, I cut down dozens of deserters and turned the tide. Many witnessed this firsthand—I'm not boasting!"

Wu Yingke had heard of this; many involved had confirmed it. Though the number of enemies slain was likely exaggerated, the general story was true, and she found herself half-believing.

"I told you, it's a matter of mastery—those who understand, understand; those who don't, don't. Only experts can truly grasp it," Lin Feng waved his hand, feeling he'd overdone his boasting, and changed the subject. "Madam, I think you need more practice. I'll go to the study to handle some business and come back to keep you company tonight."

"Wait, we're not done today!" Seeing Lin Feng rise, Wu Yingke quickly seized his arm. "Practicing martial arts all the time is boring. Why don't we do something fresh today?"

Lin Feng was startled, a chill running down his spine. He had no confidence in his martial arts anymore and hurriedly declined. "Ah... I really can't help it. State affairs come first. You could swing on the garden swings, listen to opera, or read a book."

Wu Yingke retorted angrily, "It's always this or that, circling the same routines, it's suffocating!"

"What else do you want?"

"I don't care, I want you to take me out today," Wu Yingke suddenly softened, smiled sweetly, and cooed, "How about we sneak out for a stroll? Isn't it true, as storytellers say, that wise rulers and virtuous ministers always go out in disguise to see the world?"

Lin Feng was taken aback. He thought to himself, go out incognito? There were at least a thousand people in Beijing eager to see him dead. If anything went wrong, disaster would follow. Without hundreds of guards, how could they step outside? Besides, Beijing was filthy and rundown, hardly worth exploring. He wasn't idle enough to treat it like a pedestrian street. He hastily refused, "Ahem, ahem, impossible, impossible, it's far too improper. What are our identities? People would laugh at us."

"Bah! Who cares about their laughter? I don't mind!" Wu Yingke replied disdainfully, her delicate brows furrowing as she glared fiercely at Lin Feng. "Ah Feng, since marrying into your household, have I ever asked you for anything?"

"......"

"Fine, go then, don't bother keeping me company. What's so precious about it?" Wu Yingke released his arm in disappointment and turned away.

"...... Ah, all right," Lin Feng's heart softened, and he forced a bitter smile. "Go prepare yourself, I'll make arrangements."