“I… already gave it?” Ma Dongchang looked to Xing Muzheng for mercy—that red coral was an antique!
“You did,” Xing Muzheng said, firm as a nail.
“I have one too? Lord Ma, you’re truly too kind,” Qian Jiaoniang said.
Ma Dongchang forced two dry laughs. “Of course, of course!” His heart bled. My coral tree, as red as blood…
Seeing this, Hong Su quietly hid away the meeting gift he had prepared for Xing Pingchun, saying, “Ma Dongchang, you old dog, you’re so thoughtful—I’ve lost face in comparison. That won’t do. Sister-in-law, why don’t you bring my nephew to my residence right now? You can pick any treasure you like!”
Ah, so that’s their intention. Qian Jiaoniang understood now. She gave a faint, knowing smile and didn’t look at Xing Muzheng.
Xing Muzheng felt a flash of irritation—his elder brothers were clearly here to trip him up. “Brother Hong, whatever treasures you have, just send a few that you think suitable. Jiaoniang and Chou’er will be grateful. We’re heading to watch the polo match now. If you have the time, you can come with us.” He paused, then added, “If you’re busy, best get on with your own affairs.”
“What’s so good about Marquis Zhang Jingbo’s polo match?” Ma Dongchang said. “It’s all a bunch of pale weaklings from Yongan City, poking at each other with sticks as thick as their arms. Tomorrow I’ll host a match—brother, bring sister-in-law to watch then!”
At the mention of “pale weaklings,” Xing Pingchun couldn’t help but snicker. He covered his mouth and tugged on Qian Jiaoniang’s sleeve. She lowered her head and also laughed softly.
Hong Su didn’t understand what the mother and son found funny, but he was amused by their laughter all the same. Ma Dongchang, noticing that this nephew was livelier than Xing Muzheng himself, felt even more pleased.
“If Brother Hong hosts a polo match, I’ll certainly come to show support,” Xing Muzheng said. “Today my wife and son are going just for a bit of fun. Chou’er, go wait in the carriage with your mother. I’ll be along in a moment.”
Xing Pingchun quickly stopped laughing, politely bid farewell to Hong and Ma, then took Qian Jiaoniang’s hand and started to leave.
“Wait, sister-in-law,” Hong Su called.
Qian Jiaoniang paused, thought for a moment, and waved Xing Pingchun on ahead. Once the boy had gone, Hong Su stepped forward and said, “Sister-in-law, I’m a blunt man and speak plainly—I hope you won’t take offense. Right now you may still bear the title of Marchioness, but in the end, under that imperial decree, your position is awkward. And besides, we’re here in the capital, under the Emperor’s very eyes…”
“Brother Hong,” Xing Muzheng cut in, voice heavy. Hong Su turned his head and saw Xing Muzheng watching him with a face dark as thunder.
Ma Dongchang was taken aback—though Xing Muzheng was commander, he had always respected older officers. This was the first time he had ever interrupted Hong Su so abruptly, and with such obvious displeasure.
Hong Su sighed heavily. “Muzheng, I know you value loyalty and affection, but this matter is not as simple as you think. Most people in Yongan may not know, but there will always be some who do. If they submit a memorial to His Majesty… And His Majesty—this edict came from him, could he not know? If you openly bring sister-in-law along, isn’t that clearly opposing him? What will he think? I grew up with the Emperor; I know his temperament well. Though he now cultivates his mind and claims detachment, what must be weighed will still be weighed. If he slaps the charge of ‘defying an imperial decree’ on you, the evidence will be ironclad! By then, even with a thousand mouths, you won’t be able to explain it away. Sister-in-law, even if you won’t think for yourself or for Muzheng, you must think of my nephew. If you provoke the Emperor’s wrath and he gets dragged into it, it will be hard to fix!”
When Hong Su finished, the courtyard fell silent.
Xing Muzheng’s expression was ugly—he hadn’t expected Hong Su to go on at such length. What should have been a straightforward matter was now muddled beyond recognition.
After a brief pause, Qian Jiaoniang said very seriously to Xing Muzheng, “My lord, I think Lord Hong makes an excellent point.”
Hong and Ma’s eyes lit up—this woman was reasonable after all. There was hope!
Xing Muzheng’s face grew darker, but Qian Jiaoniang continued without a flicker of change in expression. “In that case, why don’t we split up? I’ll take Chou’er to watch the polo match—anyway, without you, no one will know who we are. You can go to Lord Hong’s residence instead, and while you’re there, pick up the meeting gifts for me and Chou’er. Wouldn’t that be the best of both worlds?”
She had just learned the phrase “best of both worlds,” and using it here really did fit quite well.
So much for “having the best of both worlds”—what she really wanted was to kick him aside and enjoy herself with Chou’er!
Xing Muzheng had originally been worried she might be hurt and upset by Hong Tai*’s words. Looking back now, it was he who had been a fool.
* refers to Hong Su
Hong Tai and Ma Dongchang hadn’t expected Qian Jiaoniang’s scheming to be so devoid of womanly virtue. Not only did she refuse to stay home obediently, she even shoved her own lord to the side so she could go amuse herself. Who under heaven had ever seen such a woman? And Muzheng had even defied the imperial edict for her sake? Could it be he was bewitched?
Xing Muzheng’s face was black as he said, “The invitation card is still with me. Without it, even if you went, it would be pointless. Don’t think I’ll give it to you. Just you and Chou’er watching, but not me? As for other respectable womenfolk, never mind them—go find Chou’er outside!”
When Qian Jiaoniang saw that he wouldn’t listen to her clever idea, she regretfully cast a glance at Hong and Ma, then left. Yanluo and the three maids, standing not far away, saw her walking out and hurried to follow.
Once she was gone, Xing Muzheng still had no pleasant expression. “Two elder brothers, I know you mean well, but I don’t appreciate it. When have I ever acted without a plan in mind, that I need you to fret over my household affairs for me?” The words were heavy, but Xing Muzheng was angry—he had worked so hard to pry open a small crack, and now it had probably slammed shut again with a snap.
Ma Dongchang pulled him aside, speaking earnestly: “Brother, in other matters we all know you have the whole world in your chest. But isn’t the hardest pass for any hero the beauty’s pass? You know the word lust has a knife hanging over it—how many fine men have fallen because of it!”
Xing Muzheng sighed. “Since you’ve been through it yourselves, you should understand my difficulties all the more. I’ve spent half my life in danger and solitude—surely my elder brothers don’t mean for the other half of my life to remain unfulfilled? Don’t worry. Right now is when I most fear death; I would never risk my life to oppose His Majesty.”
Xing Muzheng apologized to Hong Tai and Ma Dongchang with a cupped-fist salute, then left first. The two of them remained in the courtyard, staring at each other.
Though Xing Muzheng had someone bring up Lightning, he did not mount the horse. Instead, he stepped up into the carriage in a single stride. Inside, Qian Jiaoniang sat in the middle with Xing Pingchun. Xing Muzheng cast him a glance, and Pingchun obediently scooted to one side. Then Qian Jiaoniang gave him another glance, and he obediently scooted even farther. Qian Jiaoniang then moved over to sit beside Pingchun, leaving Xing Muzheng to sit alone in the main seat.
Xing Muzheng: “…”
The carriage’s wheels clattered over the blue stone road as it trotted ahead. Inside was strangely quiet. Qian Jiaoniang held Xing Pingchun, swaying slightly with the jolts of the carriage. Pingchun was not one to sit still—after holding it in for a while, he asked, “Dad, are the two uncles also going to watch polo?”
“They’re not.” Xing Muzheng glanced toward Qian Jiaoniang. Seeing her calm expression, he nudged her foot with his own. She drew her skirt back under her feet. Xing Muzheng asked, “Is there anything you want? Brother Hong said you can ask for whatever you wish—he’ll give it to you.”
Qian Jiaoniang’s lips curved faintly. “No need. A melon forced from the vine is never sweet.”
So, she hadn’t said much, but she saw everything clearly. Xing Muzheng sighed inwardly.
“Mom, what does that mean?” Pingchun asked curiously.
“…I’m an illiterate woman. I can say it, but I can’t explain it. Ask your father.”
With the eager eyes of a youth hungry for learning, Pingchun looked to Xing Muzheng. Xing Muzheng, holding the hot potato, said expressionlessly, “Ask your tutor tomorrow.”
Thus the poor studious boy’s aspiring heart was chilled like by a northwest wind at the hands of his own parents.
After that, no one spoke again. The carriage rolled along at an unhurried pace toward the polo field outside the city.
