Qian Jiaoniang had been thinking how best not to hurt her sister’s feelings, still hesitating on how to speak. Qian Liniang’s sudden question instead left her stunned.
“Help you? What is it Second Sister wanted me to help with?”
This younger sister of hers truly was a fool. Qian Liniang sighed and moaned: “How can you not understand even this? Of course I want you to help me drive out that Madam Xiong—only then can your nephew rightfully inherit Sun Lang’s estate!”
Qian Jiaoniang frowned. She had not imagined her sister harbored such thoughts! Madam Xiong was Sun Bai’s principal wife, with a son already that old—how was she to drive her out? Where would she go?
“Why did Second Sister never tell me that Sun Bai had so many wives and concubines? When you married into the Sun family, did you not know he already had a household?”
Qian Liniang widened her eyes. “And you never asked me, did you? Sun Lang is a man of such standing—of course his marriage had long been arranged! How could he not have a household? He even had two bed-servants!”
“And you still dared marry him?” Qian Jiaoniang raised her voice in disbelief. She herself had struggled desperately to escape such a fire pit, and her sister had gone and jumped in willingly!
“Why would I not? You don’t know what kind of ruin our family was in? Don’t forget—you may now be a Marquis’s lady, but back then you were sold off!”
The carriage fell into silence, broken only by the clatter of hooves outside. The two sisters stared at each other, at a loss for words.
Qian Jiaoniang sighed.
Qian Liniang cursed herself for losing her composure. No matter her pride, she had to admit Jiaoniang was now wealthier and more powerful, and she must rely on her. So she pinched her own hand, steeling herself to speak again. But before she could, Qian Jiaoniang opened her mouth first: “I may have been sold, but the Xing family gave Father twenty taels of silver. Taking just one or two from that would have been enough to prepare dowries for Eldest Sister and you, to marry into good families.”
Qian Liniang said, “And what counts as a good family? Eldest Sister did just as you say—used one tael of silver for a dowry and married Eldest Brother-in-law. But of what use is that? Doesn’t she still live like a pauper every day? Never mind silks and satins—she can’t even afford a single silver hairpin. Isn’t that pitiful?”
“Those are all just external things. Does eldest brother-in-law treat eldest sister well? Does he have other wives or concubines?”
Qian Liniang said, “Eldest brother-in-law is so useless, only knows how to saw wood. The two of them can barely feed themselves, how could he still have wives and concubines? Jiaoniang, just look around—what wealthy household doesn’t have three wives and four concubines? That’s a man’s face.”
“Pah!” Qian Jiaoniang spat, “Second sister, don’t listen to men’s nonsense. When men get their so-called ‘face,’ the ones who suffer are always the women!”
“I really did suffer before. Because I had no one to rely on, that Madam Xiong bullied me every day, beat and scolded me. Now that my own younger sister has soared up to be a phoenix, won’t she even avenge her elder sister’s hatred?” Qian Liniang was overcome with sorrow and actually covered her face and wept.
“Y-you, don’t cry!” Qian Jiaoniang panicked the moment she saw her elder sister weeping.
Qian Liniang, after so many years in Sun Bai’s courtyard, had long since grown cunning. It was only in these last couple of years that she’d honed the skill of weeping—a trick that had drawn the already tired-of-her Sun Bai back into her quarters, allowing her to bear a precious son. Now, seeing that Qian Jiaoniang, like Sun Bai, couldn’t stand to see her cry, she wept all the more pitifully. Crying, she poured out the grievances she had endured over the years. Though Qian Jiaoniang did not agree with her sister marrying as a concubine, hearing all the suffering she had endured, she couldn’t help but feel distressed. Yet for the moment she could think of no good solution, and could only tell her sister to return to the Sun household first, while she herself worked out a foolproof plan.
When Xing Muzheng escorted Qian Jiaoniang back to the marquis residence, he immediately went out again—she knew he went to interrogate the assassins. Though she too had been targeted, with Xing Muzheng handling matters she had nothing to worry about. Her whole mind was now on Qian Liniang.
Though Qian Jiaoniang was angry at her elder sister’s foolish choice to marry Sun Bai as a concubine, learning that she was bullied by Madam Xiong in the inner court made her feel heartsore. Yet Madam Xiong was Sun Bai’s primary wife. Was she truly to drive one woman to a life without peace for the sake of her own elder sister? Granted, Madam Xiong was at fault, but which wife could watch her husband enter another woman’s chamber and remain open-hearted? In the end, the blame lay with Sun Bai, greedy for beauty.
As lanterns lit up, Xing Muzheng sent word back. Since today’s banquet was hosted at the yamen, with a flowing feast outside to entertain the common folk, and Qian Jiaoniang had been injured, he asked whether she would rest at home, and had delicacies sent back for her to enjoy alone. Qian Jiaoniang, feeling a bit lazy, agreed. The servant, unsurprised, quickly set a table outside. She ate with Granny Zhou and others, while Zhou Cuilian and the beauties went to the yamen to help with the feast.
After eating, Qian Jiaoniang reclined on the couch, idly stroking Big Sis’s chin. She did not know how much time had passed when Hongjuan came to ask if she wished to bathe. Qian Jiaoniang returned to herself and asked, “Has the marquis not yet come back?”
Before Hongjuan could reply, a steady male voice sounded from behind: “I’m back.”
Xing Muzheng strode in. Hongjuan hurriedly saluted. Qian Jiaoniang stood, noticing he had changed into fresh clothes, and asked, “When did the marquis return?”
“Just now,” Xing Muzheng said.
Qian Jiaoniang nodded thoughtfully. “The banquet ended so soon?”
“It hasn’t ended. I came back first.” Xing Muzheng stepped forward, his hand brushing her neck. “Does it still hurt?”
“No, it doesn’t.”
His thumb stroked the narrow cut on her unbandaged neck. “Good. Then bathe first, and afterwards I’ll change your dressing.”
So Qian Jiaoniang went to bathe. When she returned, Xing Muzheng had also changed into a plain robe, faint traces of moisture clinging to him—he had washed as well. Sitting cross-legged on the couch, a small table at his side with ointments laid out, he patted the spot before him and looked at her directly. “Come.”
Qian Jiaoniang’s head was wrapped in a towel, only a strand of hair falling against her cheek. Her face, flushed from the hot water, seemed to glow softly under the candlelight. Her gaze flickered. “Such a small thing, the maids could do it.”
“Don’t worry, I’m more experienced than they are.”
She had no choice but to sit cross-legged before him. Xing Muzheng gently lifted her chin, carefully examining the thin slanted wound at her neck, his eyes cold with a thread of killing intent. He lowered his head, scooping ointment with a jade spatula, and murmured, “Forgive me, for letting you be hurt.” If he had been more cautious, she would not have been cut.
Qian Jiaoniang tipped her chin up slightly and laughed softly. “How can you say that, my lord? You saved my life.” If not for his timely action, she might not have gotten away with just a cut.
The cool ointment spread over her wound, softer than when the physician had applied it—she felt no pain at all. Xing Muzheng, thinking her a pampered young lady, even blew gently on the wound. His warm breath brushed against her neck, making her feel ticklish. She pursed her lips lightly, eyes drifting to the shadows on the wall.
“…Did the marquis find out who was behind it?”
Xing Muzheng spread another layer of ointment. “We did. The assassins said they were sent by the crown princess.”
“The crown princess?” Qian Jiaoniang was taken aback. “That wife of the deposed crown prince? Why would she send people to kill us?”
“The assassins only said it was at the crown princess’s command; the reason, they didn’t know.” Xing Muzheng hunched over, carefully applying ointment while answering in a low voice.
Qian Jiaoniang frowned in thought. Could the crown princess really blame her and Xing Muzheng for the crown prince’s deposition and him catching syphilis? Clearly, that was the former crown prince’s own ruin.
Xing Muzheng raised his eyes to steal a glance at her—she seemed to believe this explanation.
The assassins had confessed as much, but Xing Muzheng did not believe it. Every move of the crown prince’s household was under his watch—how could such a great stir escape his notice? Moreover, those killers had obviously come for Jiaoniang. If it were the crown prince’s household, they would surely hate him more.
So he interrogated again himself. His clothes had been soaked with blood before one nearly dying assassin finally spat out a name.
A name he dared not let Jiaoniang know.
Princess Jianan.
Those assassins sent by Princess Jianan had used him as a decoy. Their true goal was to remove Jiaoniang. Thinking of the mysterious letters Jiaoniang had received in recent days, he suspected those too were her schemes. Did she really think that by making him suspect Jiaoniang of infidelity, he would cast her aside?
This move was truly sinister. If it weren’t for Xing Muzheng’s unwavering devotion to Qian Jiaoniang, in an ordinary household, the husband might indeed have divorced his wife—or even if he didn’t, there would have been endless quarrels.
But this trick had no effect in the marquis residence. And now Princess Jianan was making a move to kill again? Did she really think that if Jiaoniang died, he would automatically become her consort? Xing Muzheng sneered coldly in his heart. Each of these royals only had their own desires; did they think he and Jiaoniang were just toys for them to play with?
“I can’t quite figure it out…”
Qian Jiaoniang’s voice pulled him back from his thoughts. He took some gauze to bandage her and, suppressing his killing intent, said lightly, “You don’t need to worry about this. I’ll handle it.”
Xing Muzheng carefully and quickly wrapped two layers of gauze around Qian Jiaoniang, asking if it was too tight. She said it wasn’t, and he tied a small knot. “Tomorrow you won’t need the gauze. Be careful sleeping tonight.”
It was, after all, only a minor injury; she could sleep without gauze tonight. Qian Jiaoniang nodded absentmindedly, still thinking about the crown princess trying to kill her. Something about it felt off. Xing Muzheng didn’t let her dwell on it. He handed her a jade spatula. “Here’s some ointment. You can help me apply it.”
Before she could react, Xing Muzheng turned his back to her, unfastening his robe. His broad, strong back came into view, but now it was marked with several fresh cuts.
Qian Jiaoniang’s eyelids twitched.
