Qian Jiaoniang hesitated for a moment, but still stopped and turned her head.
Xing Muzheng was just angry that she’d try to walk away again, though he didn’t know what to say in the moment. After a pause, he finally spoke: “…In a few days, all the rebellious servants in the dungeon will be executed. After the rest of the servants have witnessed the punishment, gather them and reward each with twenty taels of silver.”
Qian Jiaoniang turned to face him. “You’re really going to kill the ones locked up?”
“Defied their master—what use keeping them?” Xing Muzheng paused. “Don’t be soft-hearted. Defiant servants must die.”
Qian Jiaoniang looked at him squarely. “What about Feng Yuyan? Are you going to kill her too?”
Xing Muzheng didn’t answer but asked in return, “Do you think she had thoughts of harming me?”
Qian Jiaoniang stayed silent. Feng Yuyan had secretly taken so much silver—if she hadn’t been planning to leave, that wouldn’t make sense. And if she was planning to leave, then of course she couldn’t let Xing Muzheng live. Maybe that fabled match of a general and a beauty just wasn’t destined. Probably didn’t have their eight characters checked. Still, she was someone he personally picked as a wife—didn’t he like her a lot? Yet now he could sentence her to death without even blinking.
Forget it. What did it have to do with her, anyway?
Qian Jiaoniang said, “Marquis, whoever you want to kill, go ahead and kill, but as for rewarding silver—you’d best have someone else do that.”
“You are the Marchioness. If you don’t hand out the rewards, who will?”
At those words, Qian Jiaoniang suddenly fell silent. She stood still where she was, face blank, as though a shadow had passed over her expression. Xing Muzheng’s heart tensed for a moment. But then Qian Jiaoniang smiled. “Marquis, let’s just speak plainly.”
Xing Muzheng stared directly at her. “Speak about what?”
“Marquis, you asked for an imperial decree to have me removed, and even thoughtfully found me another husband—for that, I’m truly grateful. I know I’m not cut out to be a Marchioness. I’m not worthy.”
Xing Muzheng replied stiffly, “You are worthy.”
Qian Jiaoniang’s smile widened. “Marquis, you’re joking. You heard from Ah Da and the others that I cared for you when you were ill, right?”
Her eyes were cold. Even when he had hurt her, she didn’t look at him this way. Xing Muzheng stared at her in silence, feeling a tight ache in his chest.
Qian Jiaoniang continued, “You’re a man who knows to repay kindness. I’m deeply moved. But I’ve already been dismissed by imperial decree—I’m no longer the Marchioness. If you forcibly keep me here, you’ll only be harming me. In the end, don’t blame me if you’re charged with defying an imperial order. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“I told you—I’ll give you an explanation.”
“But I don’t want an explanation. Wouldn’t it be better this way? Without me, you can marry whatever talented lady you wish—no need to make anyone settle for the position of secondary wife. And then there’s the princess—yes! Who knows, maybe you’ll really become the Princess Consort. Wouldn’t that be grand?”
“There is no one else.”
“…What?”
“I won’t marry anyone else.”
Qian Jiaoniang blinked in surprise. “You’re becoming a monk, then?”
Xing Muzheng: “…”
Did she really have to play dumb?
His Adam’s apple bobbed. After a moment, he said, “I’m not someone who forgets kindness or betrays others. I… will treat you well.”
He had never said such words before. Saying them now even burned his tongue a little.
And he still stammered. Qian Jiaoniang’s smile stayed frozen. “But I don’t want you to repay a debt. I can’t afford it. If you truly mean well…” She rubbed her hands together, smiling with a hint of greed. “Then just give me a letter of separation and a bit of gold and silver, and we’ll part ways. Each going down our own road. How about it?”
Xing Muzheng lowered his head and stared at her. Qian Jiaoniang’s smile stiffened—until she finally heard him spit out two words:
“Don’t—even.”
***
“Don’t even think about it? He said don’t even think about it?” Qian Jiaoniang gritted her teeth and ground the inkstone hard. “What right does he have to say those two words, huh? Where does he get the face to say those two words?!”
“Ai ai! Too thick, too thick!” Qingya quickly stopped Qian Jiaoniang from abusing the inkstone.
Qian Jiaoniang angrily slammed down the inkstick. Qingya said, “Practicing calligraphy requires a calm heart. Your writing already looks like chicken scratch—if you don’t practice properly, it’ll be even more embarrassing.”
“I’m not writing anymore!” Qian Jiaoniang stood up and grabbed a cloth to start tidying the room.
“Fine, if you’re not writing, then I’ll paint.” Qingya took her place and picked out a large wolf-hair brush. “From what I see, the marquis has survived death and now understands the value of a virtuous wife. And since it’s widely known you saved him, if he really lets you remarry, then he’ll be accused of ingratitude in front of everyone.”
“My remarriage came by imperial decree! Does he get a say?”
“Say or not, he still needs to put on a show.”
Qian Jiaoniang snorted coldly with her back to Qingya.
Qingya began to paint a “Guanyin Bestowing a Child” picture—these were always popular. She had only just drawn the baby’s head when Ding Zhang arrived, bringing several maids holding bolts of cloth. He said the marquis had sent them to take Qian Jiaoniang’s measurements for new clothes. Each maid held luxurious, trendy fabrics—silks, satins, gauze of every color and texture. Qingya recognized several that were worth a fortune, but they were all waved away by Qian Jiaoniang’s cold face.
Ding Zhang pleaded, “Madam, the marquis personally had this fine cloth gathered for you, so you could have new clothing made. If you don’t pick even one, I can’t explain it to him.”
“Then just tell him I’ve got nothing to do with him. I’m just a commoner woman—I can’t accept this kind of favor.”
Ding Zhang left helplessly.
Not long after, Xing Pingchun poked his head in at the doorway. Qian Jiaoniang was quietly discussing Wang Tieniu’s household with Qingya when she spotted his round little head and cut off her words. Xing Pingchun trotted over and obediently sat beside her, watched her embroider for a while, then got bored and started tossing a thread ball from her basket. Qian Jiaoniang slapped his hand, and he laughed awkwardly and put it down.
He sat for a bit longer, but squirmed like he had thorns under him, his eyes constantly darting to the door. Qian Jiaoniang knew he had something to say, but deliberately stayed quiet, waiting for him to speak.
Sure enough, after a moment, Xing Pingchun couldn’t hold it in. “Mama.”
“Mm.” Qian Jiaoniang didn’t look up.
“Dad’s back.”
“Mm.”
Xing Pingchun cautiously said, “Dad’s a high-ranking official… can’t you ask him to talk to the Emperor, tell him not to make you remarry?”
Qian Jiaoniang paused. “The Emperor outranks your father. Besides, Mama wants to marry your Uncle Tieniu.”
Xing Pingchun scratched his head. “Then why’d you come back yesterday?”
Qian Jiaoniang ground her teeth. “Your father said Mama hasn’t received a divorce letter yet, so I can’t marry.”
Qingya, while painting Guanyin, commented, “To be fair, that’s true.”
But honestly—once an imperial decree comes down, which man dares not issue the separation letter?
“I’ll make him write it tomorrow,” Qian Jiaoniang said.
“I doubt it,” Qingya said, blowing on her brush.
“Don’t worry, he’ll have to write it tomorrow.” Qian Jiaoniang glanced at her son. “You’ve been circling around—what are you really trying to say?”
Xing Pingchun had been listening blankly. Suddenly, when his mother looked at him, he snapped to attention and blurted, “I finished copying my passage!”
“Oh?” Qian Jiaoniang raised an eyebrow. “So fast today?”
Xing Pingchun’s face flushed a suspicious red. “I’m always this fast, okay?”
Qian Jiaoniang smiled but didn’t call him out. “All done? That’s good.”
Xing Pingchun nodded. After a moment, he added, “Dad told me to show it to him…”
“Then go show him.”
Xing Pingchun muttered, “But I’m scared to go alone… Mama, come with me.”
“Useless!” Qian Jiaoniang flicked his forehead. “What’s there to be afraid of!”
Xing Pingchun clutched his head, aggrieved. “But Mama, you were scared to sit next to Dad at dinner too!”
Qian Jiaoniang choked. “That was because I looked down on him!” She pushed him. “Go, go! Don’t embarrass me.”
Xing Pingchun twisted and turned a bit more, then seeing his mother really wouldn’t go with him, he could only go into the house, grab the copied text, and steel himself to go find Xing Muzheng.
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