Hearing the loud stream of curses and seeing the room on the verge of being torn apart, a retainer on the side quickly waved the young servant away.
“Young Master, please, calm your anger,” he urged.
The servant, already trembling with fear, seized the chance and fled as if for his life.
“Calm my anger? How can I?”
Gao Shi’si’s face turned ashen as he violently hurled a vase to the ground.
“I embarrassed myself, my reputation is tarnished, and now I’m the one to blame? Clearly, they were the ones targeting me – how did I end up offending everyone instead?”
The companion hastened to console him.
“Young Master, there’s nothing to be done. Who made you a Gao? Everyone is quick to flatter the high and trample the low, but they’re just as eager to knock the high down and lift the low up,” he said.
Especially when the high are even harder to topple – so once something goes wrong, it draws more attention and stirs up noisier gossip.
Young Master Gao naturally understood this logic. After his furious outburst, he sank into a chair with a bitter scowl.
“That fool from Jiang-zhou! The Cheng family of Jiang-zhou!” he hissed through gritted teeth, then suddenly thrust out a hand. “Find someone to teach them a lesson!”
“Fourteenth Young Master, not now,” the companion urgently countered. “Everyone knows you have a grievance with their family. Even the Emperor has called this affair absurd. If we stir up more trouble, there will be no containing the fallout. It’s not just about us giving them trouble – if anyone else targets them now, people will point the blame at us regardless.”
In his fury, Young Master Gao let out a sharp, bitter laugh.
“Goddamn it. So what you’re saying is, I ought to pamper and protect her now?” he snarled.
“Of course not. But the courtesan contest is over. You must let it go – put it behind you, never speak of it again, never ask, never mention it,” the companion advised.
“Pah! Why don’t you just say it straight – you want me to tuck my tail between my legs and hide!” Young Master Gao spat back.
The companion was spat on, but he awkwardly refrained from wiping his face.
“Enduring for a while doesn’t mean enduring forever,” he said. “Let’s just lie low until this blows over.”
“What have I even done that I need to lie low?” Young Master Gao flared up again.
“But there’s nothing we can do right now!” the companion replied helplessly. “Even the Emperor has called this whole affair absurd. Anyone who keeps stirring trouble now will only look like a fool.”
Young Master Gao ground his teeth in fury.
“I should have killed her right then and there – ended an absurd farce with an absurd act,” he said coldly. “Now I’m the one trapped by this madness.”
“Stepping back, Young Master, is sometimes a way to move forward,” the companion urged. “Let her have her moment. Let her play the fool. We’ll see who has the last laugh.”
Young Master Gao stared at the wreckage around him, then lifted his gaze to the spring scenery beyond the door, his face dark with rage.
What rotten luck!
His father had finally left the capital, giving him a taste of freedom – and just as he began to enjoy it, this disaster struck. Instead of savoring the pleasures of the capital, he’d become its laughingstock.
Cheng clan of Jiang–zhou… just you wait. We’ll see who laughs last.
The Cheng residence was bathed in sunlight, yet Second Madam Cheng, seated inside, shivered involuntarily.
“Can’t be a returning cold spell at this time of year,” she murmured, tightening her robe. Her gaze shifted to the group filing in through the door, finally settling on the ledgers in the hands of the elderly man leading them. Her eyes instantly gleamed with anticipation.
“Madam, all the account books are here,” Manager Wu said with a bow, presenting the ledgers.
At Second Madam Cheng’s signal, an attendant beside her eagerly stepped forward to receive them.
“In any case, our family is facing difficulties now, and we must all pull together to overcome this challenge,” Second Madam Cheng began, clearing her throat lightly. “Each of you should continue with your duties as before. No matter how tight funds may be, I will see to it that you are treated fairly.”
Manager Wu acknowledged her words with a respectful assent.
“And what about Ban Qin from now on…” a man in the back couldn’t help but ask, looking up.
“Ban Qin serves the Young Lady,” Second Madam Cheng interrupted, her gaze fixed on him. “Previously, with no one else here, she had to take on those tasks. But now that we’ve arrived, she should return to her proper duties.”
The man quickly lowered his head under her stare.
“Very well, you may return to your work,” Second Madam Cheng said, then gestured toward the outside. “And take this chance to get acquainted with each other.”
Manager Wu and the others turned to see four or five people standing outside the door.
What was this?
“These are some of our household staff, sent to assist you managers,” Second Madam Cheng explained.
Assist?
Manager Wu bowed in acknowledgment and led the group out.
As soon as the group had left, Second Madam Cheng eagerly snatched up the account books, while the maid hurriedly leaned in to look over them.
“Madam, Madam, there’s so much money here!” the maid exclaimed excitedly. “The profits are truly substantial…”
“Of course,” Second Madam Cheng replied. “How else could she have amassed fifty thousand in just a few short years? And that doesn’t even include all that was squandered by her and those wretched servants…”
Just mentioning the fifty thousand and the waste made Second Madam Cheng’s heart clench, her breath catching in her throat. The maid quickly reached out to soothe her.
“Madam, Madam, don’t worry. That money will be back soon – a month at most. Just one month, and it’ll be yours,” the maid reassured her.
After catching her breath, Second Madam Cheng pressed her palms together and murmured a Buddhist prayer. But as she raised her hands, her eyes fell on her bare wrist, where a bracelet once rested, then turned to the empty dressing table, thinking of all the jewelry that was gone.
“If I had known, I wouldn’t have stored them away. I should have kept them close, gazed at them to my heart’s content – I hadn’t even gotten a proper look at some of them.”
No – if she had known, she shouldn’t have bothered with politeness or appearances. She should have seized control of this fortune long ago. Then none of this would have happened!
That wretched, contemptible girl – no wonder everyone loathes her. She’s truly despicable!
…
“Miss, are we just… giving all that to Second Madam like this?” Manager Wu asked, gazing at the girl seated before him.
“If she wants it, let her have it,” Cheng Jiao-niang replied calmly.
“Then what about us…” Manager Wu hesitated before continuing, “Should we resign?”
It wasn’t arrogance that drove his words. Over the years, whether at Tai Ping Residence or Immortal’s Abode, while Cheng Jiao-niang was the owner in name, it was he and Ban Qin who had truly managed the operations. Every business relationship, every staff member – they had handled it all. To put it bluntly, whether the mistress was present or not, the businesses ran smoothly. But if Manager Wu and his team were to leave, chaos would surely follow.
Since Second Master Cheng and his wife were so plainly seizing control, why not pull the firewood from under the cauldron?
“You wish to resign?” Cheng Jiao-niang asked.
Manager Wu was taken aback and quickly shook his head.
“This is a thriving business you’ve poured so much effort into. Could you really stand to see it ruined?” she said.
Of course he couldn’t…
This enterprise, nurtured with meticulous care and wholehearted dedication, had brought him not just wealth and comfort, but also a profound sense of accomplishment.
“But, Miss, this was your endeavor – your hard work…” Manager Wu insisted.
“My efforts are my concern, and I will deal with them. Your dedication is yours – you must do what you believe is right,” Cheng Jiao-niang replied. “Anything born of true devotion should never be lightly abandoned.”
Manager Wu looked at her, nodded, and bowed in acknowledgment.
“Are you finished with the painting yet?”
A voice sounded from the doorway. Manager Wu turned to see a young man striding into the room.
It was the young master of the Zhou family. Manager Wu promptly bowed and took his leave.
“Is anything the matter?” Zhou Liu-lang asked, watching Manager Wu depart.
“Nothing,” Cheng Jiao-niang replied.
Zhou Liu-lang gave an “oh,” then said, “If it’s nothing, then hurry up and paint for me.”
“Young Master, it’s already finished. I was just about to deliver it to you,” the maid said with a smile.
Zhou Liu-lang grinned as the painting was presented to him, eagerly reaching out to take it.
“Young Master, would you like to see how it…” the maid began, but before she could finish, he had already turned and was striding away.
“No need. I have matters to attend to,” he called over his shoulder without looking back.
“What’s the hurry?” the maid murmured, shaking her head with a smile.
Meanwhile, Cheng Jiao-niang rose to her feet.
“Are you going out, Miss?” the maid asked.
“Miss is going to visit the Prince Qing’s residence,” Ban Qin explained as she stepped forward.
“I’ll accompany her,” the maid said promptly.
Ban Qin gently stopped her.
“Sister, now that you’ve been… relieved of your duties, you should take this rare chance to rest properly,” she said with a smile.
“It seems I really am of no use anymore – needed neither inside nor outside,” the maid replied, feigning distress. “Perhaps I should return to our old master.”
Cheng Jiao-niang nodded.
“Then go back,” she said.
The maid clutched her chest in mock drama.
“My lady, should I kneel and cling to your leg, weeping?” she asked.
“Go ahead,” Cheng Jiao-niang replied.
The maid giggled.
“I’m not that foolish. You’re far too easy to take advantage of. In your household, anyone can come and go as they please – you never stop them. So why would I beg?” she said, waving a hand. “Ban Qin, on your way back, bring me some of Old Wang’s sugar cakes.”
Ban Qin agreed with a smile, then left with Cheng Jiao-niang.
As night fell, Qin Shi’san-lang stepped through his gate, a faint scent of wine about him.
“Where have you been?” Zhou Liu-lang called out.
“What are you doing here?” Qin Shi’san-lang asked, somewhat surprised.
Ignoring the question, Zhou Liu-lang grabbed him by the arm.
“Hurry up, I want to see the painting she gave you,” he said, already pulling him toward the study.
“You came here just for the painting?” Qin Shi’san-lang asked, frowning.
“Of course. Why else? If you hadn’t locked it away, I’d have taken it and left by now,” Zhou Liu-lang grumbled.
Qin Shi’san-lang laughed heartily.
“That’s exactly why I locked it up,” he replied, a note of pride in his voice.
Zhou Liu-lang had already dragged him to the study entrance.
“Let me be clear – we can only look at this painting once a month. I won’t risk it being worn out from overhandling,” Qin Shi’san-lang said, planting his feet firmly.
Zhou Liu-lang snorted.
“As if anyone’s that desperate,” he retorted. “Worst case, I’ll just ask her to paint me another one.”
“Go ahead, by all means, ask her,” Qin Shi’san-lang replied with a light laugh. He pushed the door open and raised an eyebrow at Zhou Liu-lang. “Did you really think just anyone could be treated the same as me?”
A single lamp flickered to life inside the room.
“Wait, wait – bring some wine first!”
Zhou Liu-lang’s voice cut through the quiet.
“How can we truly appreciate the flowers without wine?”
“One may be intoxicated by the beauty, not the wine itself,” Qin Shi’san-lang replied calmly. “Bring up the lamps.”
As he spoke, lamps around the room were gradually lit, their soft glow revealing peonies blooming faintly in the surrounding shadows.
Qin Shi’san-lang sat cross-legged, a smile gracing his lips as the scroll beside him slowly unfurled, painting and reality merging into one serene scene.
Whenever he gazed upon it, his heart swelled with quiet joy.
These were his peonies – meant for him alone.
Before his eyes, a peony began to bloom in slow motion…
In slow motion?
Qin Shi’san-lang’s breath caught.
The Wei family’s famed flower: a thousand-petalled peony, layered in deep crimson, unfolding like a silent poem.
As the lamplight brightened, the blossom seemed to stretch and awaken – and then a butterfly took flight from the painting, as if summoned to life.
The nation’s beauty bathed in morning wine,
Heaven’s fragrance dyed by midnight hue.
The lamps brightened the room, and Qin Shi’san-lang watched as Zhou Liu-lang rose to his feet, holding the scroll in his hand.
“Mine,” Zhou Liu-lang said with a triumphant grin, radiating pure pride. “Did you really think just anyone could be treated the same as me?”
For a moment, Qin Shi’san-lang was taken aback – then he burst out laughing.
“You rascal! All that performance just to say that to me?” he exclaimed, giving Zhou Liu-lang a playful punch. Still smiling, he pointed to the long scroll behind him. “You’re wrong. Mine is the one that’s truly unique.”
“Mine is the unique one,” Zhou Liu-lang retorted with a snort. “A single bloom outshines a hundred of yours.”
Qin Shi’san-lang looked at him, then back at the painting.
“Wrong again,” he said softly, a knowing smile on his lips. “She is the one who is unique.”
She is the one who is unique.
Zhou Liu-lang turned his gaze to the scroll in his hand.
Yes. She is the one who is unique.
A pot of wine was soon emptied. Watching Zhou Liu-lang, who remained seated with a constant, irrepressible grin, Qin Shi’san-lang couldn’t help but smile as well.
“See how well she treats you,” he remarked.
“Yes, yes,” Zhou Liu-lang nodded, then quickly caught himself and shook his head. “No – it’s me who treats her well.”
Qin Shi’san-lang chuckled without replying, lifting his wine bowl for a slow sip.
“I went to see Young Master Gao today,” he said abruptly.
Young Master Gao!
Zhou Liu-lang immediately straightened up.
