The Marquis Mansion's Elite Class-Chapter 369

Xu Wan stood in place, gazing at him from afar.

She had never seen such a look before—always so intently focused on her, as if she were the only one in his world with color, as if he couldn’t see anything around him, only her.

She had never looked at anyone like that, nor had anyone ever looked at her that way. For a fleeting moment, she even felt that Zong Zhao had liked her for a very, very long time—perhaps longer than she had assumed, longer than just love at first sight. Otherwise, how could such profound emotion be contained?

Even though he had never truly confessed to her, his affection was so overwhelming it seemed ready to spill over. Even a fool could sense it. That unique, unmistakable favoritism made it unnecessary for her to repeatedly seek confirmation: Did he really like her?

Yan Suxue curved her lips into a faint smile and said softly, "I’ll wait for you in the carriage."

Xu Wan blinked, unusually flustered.

Meanwhile, Zong Zhao had already strode toward her, stopping right in front of her. "I’m here to take you home," he said.

"Ah… oh… alright." Xu Wan fumbled for an explanation. "We were delayed inside with Lady Lü just now, so we came out late. Have you been waiting here all this time? Weren’t you here to see Master Lü about something?"

Zong Zhao replied, "I’m not familiar with him. I came to pick you up."

Xu Wan: "…"

So… it was really as they had guessed?

Zong Zhao had actually come for her…

Xu Wan stammered, "But we only hired one carriage today. Suxue is still inside—it wouldn’t be proper for you to join us, would it?"

Zong Zhao said, "You two take the carriage. I’ll ride my horse."

Xu Wan added, "Oh, alright. Then you don’t need to wait for us—you can go back to the estate first if you’d like."

Zong Zhao didn’t respond to that, only saying, "Get in the carriage. Let’s go home."

"Alright."

Once Xu Wan boarded the carriage, she saw Yan Suxue grinning at her. "Were we right?"

Xu Wan suppressed a laugh. "Yes, yes, you guessed correctly. How are you so clever, my dear Suxue?"

Yan Suxue chuckled lightly. "Sister-in-law, don’t tease me. We outsiders just see things more clearly. You’re the one standing right in the middle of it, unable to recognize the truth."

"Standing in the middle of it…" Xu Wan murmured the poetic phrase, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

When they arrived home, Yan Suxue immediately said as she stepped out of the carriage, "Sister-in-law, I’ll head back to my courtyard first."

"Ah? ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌‍So soon?" Xu Wan lifted the carriage curtain and saw Zong Zhao still waiting beside her. Realizing Yan Suxue didn’t want to be a third wheel, she quickly amended, "Alright, see you later."

Yan Suxue covered her mouth, stifling a giggle, before heading into the estate toward another courtyard.

As Xu Wan walked inside, she asked Zong Zhao, "You really rode your horse alongside our carriage the whole way? Didn’t you find it too slow?"

Zong Zhao replied, "There’s no hurry. No need to rush home."

Xu Wan was convinced: Fair point.

The two walked side by side, still polite and reserved. Meanwhile, the Old Marchioness, who had been secretly watching from the shadows, was fuming. She muttered under her breath, "That fool hasn’t improved at all! Did all my advice go in one ear and out the other?"

The Old Marquis winced. "If he hasn’t improved, why are you pinching me…?"

The Old Marchioness released her grip and said sternly, "A son’s faults reflect on his father."

The Old Marquis: "…" What an undeserved accusation.

Their hushed bickering, however, caught Zong Zhao’s attention. He paused and glanced over, spotting his mother gesturing wildly at him, mouthing words he couldn’t hear.

The Old Marchioness urged silently, "Hold her hand, hold her hand, you blockhead!" But she kept her voice low so Xu Wan wouldn’t hear. Desperate, she grabbed the Old Marquis’s hand to demonstrate. "Hold hands, hold hands!"

The old couple held their breath, acting out the scene in hopes their dense son would understand. Fortunately, Zong Zhao did grasp the message—but he didn’t move. With his parents watching, he felt too embarrassed.

To the Old Marchioness, this only confirmed one thing: Hopeless. Absolutely hopeless.

Once they entered their own courtyard, however, Zong Zhao quickened his pace to catch up to Xu Wan. First, he walked beside her. Then, he pretended to accidentally brush the back of her hand. Finally, with nervous determination, he gingerly took hold of… the very edge of her fingers.

Xu Wan stopped in her tracks and turned to meet Zong Zhao’s gaze.

The warmth on her fingers came from his large, calloused hand. The moment she looked at him, Zong Zhao’s grip loosened slightly—but then, mustering his courage, he tightened it again.

He was dead set on holding her hand.

"You… what’s wrong?" Xu Wan didn’t understand what he was trying to do.

Truthfully, Zong Zhao hadn’t fully thought through what to say either. Despite rehearsing his words all day, every carefully crafted sentence evaporated the moment he faced her, leaving him tongue-tied.

But his mother had insisted he couldn’t keep going on like this.

At last, he spoke: "What kind of person do you think my father is?"

Xu Wan was baffled by the abrupt question. After a moment’s thought, she answered, "He’s… good-natured? Easy to get along with. A perfect family man."

Since it was his own father, Xu Wan couldn’t very well offer a thorough analysis of the Old Marquis’s character. Still, by the standards of their time, the Old Marquis was remarkably ideal—wholly devoted to his family.

Zong Zhao, however, disagreed. "He’s far from perfect. In fact, he has plenty of flaws: not particularly clever, not eloquent, stubborn to a fault. Once he cuts ties with someone, he severs all connections completely. He has no friends, and every household matter is decided by my mother."

Xu Wan: "…"

Truly a son’s brutal honesty—dragging his own father through the mud.

But then, Zong Zhao abruptly shifted tone. "Yet he’s loyal, devoted, a loving husband, a doting father, and a man who cherishes his family. He possesses virtues few others do."

Xu Wan nodded in agreement. "That’s why I said he’s a perfect family man."

Zong Zhao looked at her intently. "I have many flaws too—a bad temper, poor with words, things I might never change. But I also have strengths. I can be like my father: no concubines, no mistresses, only you. Belonging to one person, and no one else."

Xu Wan was stunned.

This was even more shocking than a written pledge. Avoiding brothels merely proved he was disciplined, but refusing concubines and mistresses? That meant standing against every nobleman in the capital, becoming the odd one out.

Every other household had them—only he wouldn’t. Over time, vicious rumors would spread: that he was impotent, that he was antisocial. Like the Old Marquis, he might become someone the entire capital avoided.

Yet Zong Zhao seemed unbothered. He lifted their loosely joined hands, his gaze earnest as he asked, "Could you try to like me? Not just as your husband in name, but in a way that makes you happy to see me, miss me when I’m gone, and carry me in your thoughts always?"