The Marquis Mansion's Elite Class-Chapter 345

A night of utter chaos.

Xu Wan drifted in and out of sleep, waking and dozing intermittently until dawn, when she finally sank into deep slumber.

The sun blazed overhead, its scorching heat piercing the heart.

Xu Wan yawned, eyes still shut, and asked, "Cui Zhi, what time is it?"

Someone replied, "Almost the end of the si hour."

Xu Wan jolted awake. "Ah!!"

Eleven o'clock!

Horrifying—she had never slept this late before. A surge of guilt overwhelmed her as she scrambled out of bed in a panic. freewēbnoveℓ.com

She dressed hastily, but as she threw off the covers, she suddenly realized the voice hadn’t been Cui Zhi’s. She turned her head to look—Zong Zhao.

Not Cui Zhi at all.

Damn.

Caught red-handed sleeping in by her own husband.

"You ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‍seemed restless last night, so I prepared a lavender sachet for you. Hanging it by the bed should help you sleep better," Zong Zhao said, approaching with the sachet in hand.

Xu Wan blinked, then instinctively scooted away, dragging the blanket with her—wait, no. Regaining her senses, she hurriedly got up to wash and dress, fleeing the scene like a guilty child.

Fresh clothes were already hung on the rack. Xu Wan dressed swiftly, then couldn’t resist stealing a glance at Zong Zhao, who was focused on hanging the sachet and hadn’t noticed her. Relieved, she rushed to the outer room to wash up.

Cui Zhi stood by the washbasin, struggling to suppress a knowing grin—though her lips were pressed tight, the mirth in her eyes was unmistakable.

Xu Wan shot her a glare and whispered reproachfully, "Cui Zhi, the sun is high! Why didn’t you wake me?"

Cui Zhi feigned innocence. "The general forbade it. He said you didn’t sleep well last night. But, madam… no water was called for last night?"

"……"

Xu Wan’s face burned crimson down to her neck.

Good grief—this was the downside of being too familiar with her maid. The girl dared to tease her about anything!

Xu Wan bent to splash her face again, waiting for the heat to subside before composing herself. "Alright, you may leave." If Cui Zhi stayed any longer, she’d crumble under the embarrassment.

Cui Zhi curtsied sweetly. "Yes, madam. I’ll fetch your breakfast."

Xu Wan thought: It’s eleven—what’s the point of breakfast now? Might as well wait for lunch…

"Just a bowl of porridge. Keep it simple, nothing else."

"As you wish."

By the time Zong Zhao finished hanging the sachet, Xu Wan was seated at the vanity, combing her hair. The table was lined with cosmetics—rouge, powder, lip tint, and other feminine adornments.

Xu Wan usually relied on Cui Zhi for dressing, but when the maid wasn’t around, she managed on her own. She wasn’t fond of summoning too many servants into her chambers. Back in the Minister's Mansion, where the maids had ignored her, she’d honed some basic skills through self-taught practice.

But styling her hair was tricky. After several failed attempts, she sighed, "I can’t do it…" She turned, hoping to spot Cui Zhi by the door—only to find Zong Zhao watching her.

Their eyes met. Though he wanted to help, he shrugged helplessly. "I don’t know how either."

Xu Wan gave up. "I’ll wait for Cui Zhi." She released her hair, letting it tumble back down.

Cui Zhi soon returned with porridge, murmuring, "Madam, I forgot to ask earlier—sweet or savory porridge? So I brought both."

Xu Wan waved urgently. "Either is fine. Just help me with my hair first!"

"Of course." Cui Zhi curtsied to Zong Zhao before deftly styling Xu Wan’s hair, her fingers moving swiftly yet smoothly, finishing in no time.

Zong Zhao observed intently, memorizing each step.

Xu Wan admired her reflection in the mirror, then turned with a thumbs-up. "Brilliant! Only you can do this!"

Cui Zhi mimicked the scholarly tone of young gentlemen: "I have no special talent—merely the result of practice!"

Xu Wan burst into laughter. "If women could take the imperial exams, you’d stand a chance! Look at you, quoting classics now."

Cui Zhi grinned. "I wouldn’t dare embarrass myself, madam. But if you took the exams, you’d surely outshine even Zong Jincheng in defeating Qin Ye!"

Xu Wan coughed. "Enough flattery. I’d rather eat now."

Cui Zhi curtsied and withdrew.

Xu Wan sipped her porridge in the outer room, occasionally glancing at Zong Zhao, who was writing at the desk. What’s he busy with now? she wondered.

Halfway through her meal, a lively voice called from outside: "Mother, are you awake yet?"

Xu Wan nearly dropped her spoon.

What in the world—did the entire household know she’d overslept?

Zong Jincheng bounded in and plopped down across from her, grinning. "Mother, you’re having breakfast? Just porridge won’t fill you up. Let me ask the kitchen to make something else."

Xu Wan swallowed a mouthful and waved him off. "No need, lunch is soon anyway. Shouldn’t you be in class?"

Zong Jincheng smirked. "We had a quiz today. I finished early and handed it in—the others are still writing."

Xu Wan rolled her eyes. "Let me guess: you scribbled those unstable, ugly characters again?"

"Not at all!" the little rascal protested. "My handwriting’s much better now! Even when I write fast, it’s only slightly messy—still legible!"

Xu Wan scoffed. "Pride comes before a fall. The poetry exam especially values neat calligraphy. Fix that habit of rushing and ruining your characters."

"I know, I know," Zong Jincheng said, then craned his neck toward the inner room—clearly up to something.

Xu Wan eyed him suspiciously. "What? Need your father for something?"

If this brat dared ask Zong Zhao to fight his battles, she’d grab a broom and give him a childhood memory he wouldn’t forget.

The little devil beamed. "Father’s finished with Chancellor Yan’s case, right? So… when can he start teaching us?"

Xu Wan raised a brow. "The discussion on the Battle of Changqi?"

Zong Jincheng nodded eagerly. "Yes! We’ve all prepared thoroughly, just waiting for Father’s guidance."

Xu Wan set down her spoon, considering. "He should be free—he’s home at this hour."

"Then… tomorrow morning?" Zong Jincheng had learned this tactic from Xu Wan—pin down a specific time to minimize delays.

Xu Wan nodded. "Fine by me, but you’ll have to ask him yourself. Only if he agrees."

Raising children meant stepping back sometimes. Letting them take initiative taught independence—success brought growth, and failures offered lessons.