Xing Muzheng entered the courtyard. Qian Jiaoniang heard the noise outside but remained in her room, furiously stabbing at her embroidery.
After a while, someone outside called for dinner. Xing Pingchun, feeling ashamed to face his father and not wanting him to see his swollen eyes, mumbled from inside the room that he wasn’t hungry.
Qian Jiaoniang knew what he was thinking and didn’t press the issue. She herself didn’t go out either, casually claiming she wasn’t feeling well and didn’t want dinner.
Xing Muzheng sat alone at the table, waiting for them. After a while, the steward came out, bowing. Xing Muzheng looked behind him—only to find no one was there.
Ding Zhang carefully relayed Qian Jiaoniang’s words, “Marquis, Madam said she’s feeling a bit unwell and won’t be having dinner. The young master ate too much at noon and hasn’t digested yet, so Madam said he won’t be eating either.”
Xing Muzheng waved his hand expressionlessly.
Ding Zhang took the opportunity to add, “Also, Master, Madam said she has enough clothes and doesn’t need the tailors to make any new ones.”
Dingxi Marquis shot him a glance. Though he said nothing, Ding Zhang still shrank his neck in fear and quickly retreated with the other servants. Xing Muzheng sat alone in the hall. He used to dine alone often and never found anything wrong with it—but after hearing the joyful laughter of Qian Jiaoniang and Xing Pingchun at the table so many times, he had wanted to be part of it. Even if he didn’t say anything, just listening was enough. Who would’ve thought he was so disliked now? His wife and son didn’t even want to eat with him.
Looking at the table full of delicacies, Xing Muzheng had no appetite. He sat there alone for a while, then suddenly stood up and called for his horse.
At this hour, after dinner—where could he go? Wasn’t the only place left a brothel? Ding Zhang didn’t dare ask and could only rush to have the horse brought over.
With the whole table of good dishes left untouched, Ding Zhang hesitated for a moment, then told a maid to invite Qian Jiaoniang. Qian Jiaoniang came out rather quickly this time, even bringing Xing Pingchun and Qingya with her. The three of them sat down, didn’t say a word, and simply buried their heads in the food. Ding Zhang watched silently. So where was all that talk about feeling unwell or being too full?
Once the food was swept clean like a storm, Xing Pingchun was the first to finish and ran off in a hurry, afraid of running into his father. Qian Jiaoniang gave Ding Zhang a thumbs-up, wiped her mouth, let out a satisfied burp, and went off with Qingya—one to fertilize the plants, the other to water them. Ding Zhang wiped the sweat from his brow. This didn’t look like someone who was unwell—clearly, she just didn’t feel well seeing the Marquis!
Ding Zhang only dared complain in his heart. He had the table cleared and, knowing that Madam didn’t like too many people lingering in the courtyard, withdrew with the servants once everything was tidied up. As soon as he stepped outside, he saw a tall figure approaching through the dusk. Only when the man got closer did he recognize it was the Marquis himself, carrying a large bundle. Who knew where he’d just come back from. Ding Zhang hurriedly bowed with the others. Xing Muzheng tossed the bundle to a maid who had empty hands and instructed:
“Use the clothes inside to measure Madam’s size. Make her new garments—choose the best fabrics, the newest styles, and assign the best embroidery women. If the work pleases Madam, there’ll be rewards for everyone.”
Could those clothes be the ones taken from Dr. Bai’s place? As soon as she said it, the Marquis went to get them himself—such urgency… But wasn’t this a small matter? Couldn’t he have just sent someone? Ding Zhang nodded repeatedly and bowed. Xing Muzheng turned and noticed a food basket being brought out by a servant, and casually asked, “Did Madam eat?”
“Well… this servant ventured to ask her again. Madam said she was feeling a bit better and had a little to eat,” Ding Zhang cautiously answered. “The young master… was also hungry and ate with Madam.”
Xing Muzheng’s expression was shrouded in shadow, making it hard to read.
Ding Zhang quickly said, “I’ll have the kitchen prepare your meal again…”
“No need,” Xing Muzheng said in a low voice. “Just reheat what they didn’t finish and bring it up.” He wasn’t one for waste. That whole table of dishes—no way mother and son could’ve finished it all.
“Yes, sir! Right away!”
Xing Muzheng stepped into the courtyard. It was quiet, and the air was rich with the scent of damp earth—it seemed like Jiaoniang had just watered the plants. The candlelight was on in the east wing, but the windows were tightly shut, and he couldn’t see any shadows. He paused for a moment beneath the grape arbor before stepping over the threshold into the west wing. The room was empty, unlit, with only a faint moonlight filtering in.
Xing Muzheng slowly sat in the old reclining chair in its usual place. He lay back, gently rocking, his gaze fixed on the small, empty table bathed in moonlight. In the past, this would be the time when Jiaoniang sat beside that table, doing embroidery while chatting with him.
Now, only silence remained. A silence that made one uneasy.
Xing Muzheng turned his head toward the direction of the east wing. His deep, dark eyes were unreadable.
Want to show your support? Go donate at Paypal or Ko-fi to show your appreciation! Want to get early access to at least 10+ chapters in advance? Go to my Patreon to join now! :)
