Qian Jiaoniang drew in a sharp breath and made a show of taking out a handkerchief to wipe her eyes. “Oh, Heaven! Why is my fate so bitter?”
Hang Zhi’s mouth twitched. This was the first time he’d seen such a woman—without even a single tear, yet pretending to cry!
He had originally planned to use Xing Muzheng’s confinement to threaten or entice Qian Jiaoniang into revealing the hidden person. Unexpectedly, she was muddleheaded and knew nothing at all. Saying her life was “bitter” yet showing no urgency to save her husband, she wasted half the day without giving a single useful word. Although Hang Zhi still wore a smile, the jade ring in his hand was nearly crushed in half. He was almost inclined to feel sorry for Xing Muzheng—marrying such a hopeless woman.
At that moment, Duanfang came in from outside in a fluster, asking to see him. After whispering a few words in Hang Zhi’s ear, Hang Zhi’s face changed instantly, and he rose abruptly. Hong Tai and Ma Dongchang hurried to their feet as well.
“Lord Hang, is there trouble in court?”
“No,” Hang Zhi said coldly. “It’s that the person I brought here has been bullied in your residence!”
Furious, he flung his sleeve and barked, “Lead the way!” Duanfang quickly gestured for him to follow. Hong Tai and Ma Dongchang exchanged puzzled glances, each shaking his head. Then, like a gust of wind, Madam Qian also stood and quickly left the hall. The two men sensed trouble and hurried after her.
In the side hall next door, an elderly woman in a plain ginger-colored jacket sat with reddened eyes, head bowed in silence. Yanluo and Hongjuan exchanged bewildered looks, not knowing why this stewardess from the Hang residence had suddenly shed tears for no apparent reason. They had shared the room without speaking a word—so why was the old woman crying?
Seated behind, Qingya gazed sorrowfully at her wet nurse. This woman who had raised her since infancy and protected her most dearly now had hair entirely gray and a body hunched with age. In just a few short years, she had grown so old. She must have recognized her and was crying because of it, yet dared not come forward to acknowledge her.
Qingya took a deep breath and lifted her head, blinking to scatter the mist from her eyes, not daring to look at her again. She and her wet nurse had a bond deeper than mother and daughter, and she feared she would not be able to resist rushing forward to embrace her and weep. But she had once promised to serve her in her old age—and now, that promise could likely never be fulfilled.
All of a sudden there was a flurry of footsteps, and a man in white burst in. The gathered women were startled, then, seeing the man’s head of white hair, they immediately knew who stood before them. They hastily knelt—this was none other than the Prime Minister of the current dynasty. Liu, the wet nurse, quickly wiped the moisture from the corners of her eyes and knelt as well. Hang Zhi stepped forward to personally help her up.
“Liu Momo, I heard you were here, bullied and weeping. Is that so?” Hang Zhi asked while looking closely into her eyes. Seeing that they truly were red-rimmed, he tightened his grip on her arm.
Qingya knelt along with the others, hearing that voice—so achingly familiar—close at hand. The tender moonlit whispers of their past life as husband and wife came flooding back. This was her Tan Lang, the husband she had loved. Waves of heat surged in her chest. She had thought she had forgotten it all, but now she knew it had only been buried deep inside. Her fingernails dug into the cracks in the floorboards. She dared not lift her head, hardly even breathed.
The wet nurse bowed her head in panic. “You are mistaken, young master. No one has bullied this servant.”
“If no one has bullied you, then why are you weeping?”
Wetnurse Liu was startled. She raised her head and met the cold, predatory gaze in Hang Zhi’s eyes. Her heart nearly leapt from her chest. The old madam had kept her only so she could testify one day. When her young mistress died back then, it had torn her apart—but she had her own children and grandchildren under the old madam’s watch, and dared say nothing. She could only live from one day to the next.
But this morning, the young master had summoned her, saying he had met someone who looked remarkably like the young mistress—perhaps with amnesia, perhaps something else—and wanted her to come and confirm.
She had nursed the young mistress from infancy; how could she not recognize her? But the young mistress’s face had changed, and she clearly did not wish to acknowledge her. Wetnurse Liu knew then that the girl must not dare return to the Hang residence. Apart from the young master, that household was full of jackals and tigers who would gladly see her dead. Surviving such a calamity only to return and be killed again? She could not allow it. She had denied it—yet her heart ached for her mistress, and she could not stop the tears from falling.
“Liu Momo, I asked you—why are you weeping?” Hang Zhi squeezed her wrist harder, nearly to the point of breaking it.
She sucked in a sharp breath. “This servant…”
Qian Jiaoniang stepped into the side hall. “Prime Minister, what is going on here?”
Hong Tai and Ma Dongchang followed behind, asking the reason.
Hang Zhi turned his head, face dark. “Would the wet nurse this official respects weep for no reason? Which servant has angered her?”
This scene was being played more convincingly than the lead actor onstage earlier. Qian Jiaoniang put on a stern face. “Such a thing? Attend me—take these maids away and question them one by one!”
Qingya and Yanluo moved quickly to rise with the others, heads lowered, preparing to withdraw.
“Hold!” Hang Zhi’s sharp cry stopped them in their tracks. The maids froze. He looked at Qian Jiaoniang thoughtfully, his expression shifting several times.
Qian Jiaoniang remained composed. “Prime Minister, rest assured. I will have this investigated immediately. If anyone here has been unruly, I will be the first to punish them!”
Liu Momo dropped to her knees with a thud. “Prime Minister, no one—no one has bullied this servant!”
Hang Zhi ignored her, staring at Qian Jiaoniang before suddenly smiling. “Madam Xing, let me save you some trouble. This official has a special skill—just let me look at these maids, and I can tell which one is guilty.”
Qian Jiaoniang frowned. “But the wet nurse herself says no one bullied her. Are you going deaf?”
So—he had underestimated this woman. Hang Zhi said, smiling, “This Liu Momo was my beloved wife’s wet nurse, as kindhearted as her mistress. Even if something happened, she would never speak of it. My wife often said she wished to care for Liu Momo into her old age; naturally, I respect her. Otherwise, when my wife returns, she will be angry.”
Was this man mad? Hadn’t his wife already died? Talking of her “return”—was he telling ghost stories?
Qian Jiaoniang said bluntly, “I heard from the marquis that the Prime Minister’s wife has passed away. How can you still have a beloved wife? Ah—have you married another beloved wife?”
Hang Zhi’s smile did not waver. “This official has had only one beloved wife from start to finish. And she is not dead—only fell into the water. She… is angry that I failed to protect her, and so she refuses to come back.” His voice softened as he spoke, and his eyes brimmed with unending sorrow.
Qingya’s eyes burned red. She dug her nails into her palm to force back the tears. Enough. Enough!
Qian Jiaoniang fell silent.
Sensing the strange atmosphere, Hong Tai remembered he was the host. “Prime Minister, this is my own poor hospitality. I will investigate thoroughly and give you a satisfactory answer.”
Hang Zhi came back to himself and slowly helped Liu Momo up. “Lord Hong, as I just said—one glance is all I need to tell who is guilty. Since they’re all here, I will examine them myself.”
“This…” Hong Tai looked to Qian Jiaoniang. He had already noticed some intrigue between these two, but how could Muzheng’s wife have anything to do with the Prime Minister? Was that “Thousand-Faced Li” sent here to deal with him? Who was it that must not be seen by Hang Zhi—could it be a rebel?
Hang Zhi raised an eyebrow. “What’s the matter? They’re here. I only want to take a look—surely there’s no one here I’m not allowed to see?”
Hong Tai forced a laugh and denied it. Qian Jiaoniang glanced surreptitiously at Qingya. Qingya caught the look and gave a small nod. Qian Jiaoniang rubbed her fingertip. “Of course there’s no one here you can’t see, Prime Minister. They’re only servants—I wouldn’t want to sully your eyes. But since you wish to question them yourself, well—stand properly!”
Qingya, Yanluo, and the Hong household maids stepped forward, forming a neat row before Hang Zhi and Qian Jiaoniang, all with eyes lowered, hands folded before them.
“Lift your heads,” Hang Zhi ordered. The maids obeyed, raising their heads to look straight ahead. Hang Zhi slowly walked to the first in line, looking her over from head to toe. Suddenly he reached out and seized her, the veins on his hand standing out, his fingers trembling slightly.
The others were shocked to hear his hoarse voice: “It was you, wasn’t it, who committed the offense?”
Qian Jiaoniang’s heart suddenly jolted— the first person was none other than Qingya in disguise!
Qingya stared at Hang Zhi in shock, only to meet a pair of bloodshot eyes. Hang Zhi’s grip on her was tight; his gaze burned into her as if to scorch her soul. Qingya felt the world spin; that white hair and the long-missed handsome face made her lips tremble and left her speechless.
“It’s you who’s guilty—guilty of not recognizing your wet nurse, and not recognizing your husband! Ya’er, how cruel you are!”
Startled, Qingya took a step back and tried to pull her hand away, but Hang Zhi held it firmly. His red eyes fixed unblinkingly on her. His cold hands trembled as they gripped hers, feeling her warmth. Her hand was warm—she was truly alive! For a fleeting moment, Hang Zhi was overwhelmed by immense joy, nearly fainting as darkness closed in. The torment of days past turned into a tidal wave of wild delight. He gasped heavily, veins bulging on the back of his hand. “Ya’er!”
Qingya’s voice was rough: “Prime Minister, you’re mistaken…”
“I’d recognize you even if you turned to ash! I’m your husband—why won’t you acknowledge me?” Hang Zhi’s voice nearly broke as he clutched her hand tightly, tears streaming down his face. “Do you… blame me?”
