Reborn as the Blissful Wife in the countryside Chapter 1192: The Young Marquis Died Miserably

"Brother Qin!" When Gu Jinli spotted Qin San Lang, her eyes brightened faintly, her tone full of delight as she shouted to him.

Qin San Lang came especially to meet her. Upon laying eyes on her, happiness flooded his chest, and a grin bloomed on his lips, softening his usual harsh features.

He strode forward swiftly toward her, eager to embrace her waist with his strong arms, yet Gu Jin’an’s presence stopped him. Instead, he grasped her hand softly in his own, inquiring, "Is everything sorted?"

"How did you learn about the issue we came to resolve?" Gu Jin’an questioned before Gu Jinli could respond, feeling confused by Qin San Lang’s awareness.

Unless his memory failed him, San Lang had stayed extremely occupied over the last two months. Brother Cheng mentioned he hadn’t come back to the village in over a month, merely dispatching safety updates.

Actually, Qin San Lang avoided the village by day, yet he sneaked in twice under cover of night just to glimpse Gu Jinli... He longed for her so much that he gave up sleep for those short moments, content with even a quick sight.

Gu Jinli explained, "I asked Si’an to tell him."

She then tilted her head up to Qin San Lang with a smile, adding, "Yeah, it’s all done, went off without a hitch, no need for you to fret."

Night had fully fallen, but the wealthy Ouyang Family hung two big lanterns from the eaves right at dusk, illuminating his features sharply for her: "You look exhausted?"

Fatigue marked his face, as if he hadn’t rested in a full day and night.

He probably hurried back on his break just to catch sight of her.

Qin San Lang laughed lightly, squeezing her hand firmer while replying, "I’m not tired at all."

"Let’s chat inside the mule cart." Gu Jin’an watched with resignation, pondering if this pair could show some restraint. Betrothed or not, staring lovingly at each other beneath a stranger’s roof was improper.

Gu Jinli, shameless as ever, saw no issue in mere hand-holding and eye-gazing.

Young Master Dou stood stunned, baffled that the Young Marquis would clasp a girl’s hand right there under foreign eaves—even if she was his fiancée, it shocked him still.

Whatever happened to the Young Marquis’ dignified bearing?

Aware of Young Master Dou’s presence, Qin San Lang glanced over at him.

Young Master Dou flinched, stepped back, clasped his hands, and bowed deeply, saying, "Company Commander Qin."

In response, Qin San Lang released Gu Jinli’s hand and offered a cupped-fist salute back.

Young Master Dou jolted once more, quietly moving aside as sweat chilled his spine. Truth be told, despite childhood acquaintance with the Young Marquis, their status gap meant he always saluted first; receiving the Young Marquis’ respect felt impossible.

"Young Master Dou, your nobility shines; on behalf of He’an Prefecture’s folk, I, Qin, express my gratitude." Qin San Lang spoke bluntly, quick to adjust; after his family’s decline, he dropped all pointless pretensions.

Overcome by the honor, Young Master Dou nearly lost his words in thrill. Calming himself, he replied, "Company Commander Qin flatters me too much. The real genius is Little Boss Gu."

Qin San Lang smiled at that, recognizing the praise for Gu Jinli, and noted, "You’re all honorable souls."

Young Master Dou: "..."

You’re tossing compliments my way too.

Still, Young Master Dou felt no ire; encountering the Young Marquis was thrill enough for the day.

Clearly, the Young Marquis trusted him now.

Ever vigilant, the Young Marquis wouldn’t reveal himself unless fully convinced Young Master Dou posed no betrayal risk.

Securing the Young Marquis’ faith stirred excitement within him.

"Time’s late; let’s head home before Uncle Dashan and Aunt Dashan grow anxious." Qin San Lang reclaimed Gu Jinli’s hand, hailed Gu Jin’an again, and boarded the mule cart first.

"Alright." Gu Jinli agreed, climbing aboard after Qin San Lang.

Gu Jin’an eyed Young Master Dou, commenting, "You hold San Lang in high regard."

For all his haughtiness, Young Master Dou turned servile before San Lang—like a lackey to his lord, utterly bizarre.

Young Master Dou shook out his sleeves, resuming his haughty air, and scoffed, "Scholar Gu may not realize, but this Young Master owes his life to a soldier once. Since that day, I’ve revered all soldiers and sworn to honor them upon every encounter."

Really?

Should I grab a soldier to thrash you and test that ‘respect’?

Gu Jin’an dismissed the flimsy excuse without pressing, saluted Young Master Dou with cupped hands, and joined them on the mule cart.

Once they settled down, Zezi urged the mule cart onward, while Si’an galloped back astride Qin San Lang’s horse.

Young Master Dou lingered beneath the Ouyang Family’s eaves, bathed in lantern light as he gazed at the vanishing mule cart, offering it a deep, respectful bow.

Yet a frown marred his features upon eyeing the cart, deeming the Gu Family’s mule cart pathetically rundown; its canopy consisted of mere crude wooden planks slapped together, unfit even for Capital servants to ride in.

The Young Marquis was utterly pitiable; Young Master Dou itched to gift him a fine carriage!

As thoughts of carriages stirred his mind, Young Master Dou recalled how the Young Marquis once possessed a swift-as-wind Hanxue Treasure Horse called Bai Jian.

The Young Marquis nearly always rode out on Bai Jian, boasting it was traded for his father’s wartime merits and declaring it his eternal battlefield partner.

Back then, he’d been honored to stroke Bai Jian, though the horse’s foul temper nearly sent him to the grave with a kick.

He’d often pictured the Young Marquis thundering into combat atop Bai Jian, smashing through foe formations, but such dreams stayed mere fantasies... The Young Marquis never forged glory on that mount, falling instead amid the clash of battle.

Legends spoke of his gruesome demise, ripped apart by war chariots until his face was beyond recognition, yet by his mangled remains knelt the gravely injured Bai Jian... All knew it for the Young Marquis’s steed; none else in the Northwest Army claimed such a Hanxue Treasure Horse.

In time, Bai Jian breathed his last too, drawing sighs of sorrow from all.

"Young Master, wipe your tears, stop crying—it looks so embarrassing." Dou Zhi remarked with a touch of scorn, yet thoughtfully passed him a handkerchief for his tears.

Young Master Dou bristled in rage, grinding his teeth as he smacked her hand away, yelling, "What rubbish are you spouting? When did this Young Master cry? It’s sweat, got it? The heat’s sweltering, sweat beading on my brow and stinging my eyes!"

Dou Zhi: "Oh, then wipe the sweat, Young Master; it must hurt dripping into your eyes like that."

Young Master Dou’s face darkened: "Are you doing this on purpose?!"

Dou Zhi: "Young Master is overthinking it. I’m not as idle as you."

The Young Master could even tear up at just the mule cart’s fading outline; what a sentimental soul you are, Young Master.

Young Master Dou seethed inwardly, but Dou Zhi was a quirky maidservant; lessons from years past cautioned him against clashing with such strange lasses, lest he end up in tears himself. Thus, he grabbed the handkerchief, dabbed his eyes, and commanded, "Prepare pen, ink, paper, and inkstone. I wish to pen a letter to Uncle Ruan."