Ever since Li Qingquan broke into the residence with his men, Feng Yuyan had been imprisoned in her courtyard, forbidden from going anywhere.
Feng Yuyan had grown up deep in the boudoir. When she was abducted by flower thieves, it wasn’t until she woke up in a ruined temple that she realized what had happened. For a moment, her courage almost gave out from fear. But once she heard the name Xing Muzheng, all her terror transformed into overwhelming joy. In the entire Great Xie Dynasty, who didn’t know the great and renowned General of the West, Dingxi Marquis, Xing Muzheng?
After being sent home, as she recalled what seemed to be a misfortune, she grew ever more convinced that it was destined by the heavens—a fated marriage between her and the great hero general Xing Muzheng.
She believed she was meant to meet that heroic and dashing man, bound by the red thread of fate tied by the old matchmaker. No one, not even among the empire’s three famed talents, was more suited than her—Feng Yuyan—to become the wife of the triumphant returning general.
But unexpectedly, Xing Muzheng was already married. Feng Yuyan thought it over for a while, gritted her teeth, and decided to retreat in order to advance—willing to enter the household as a concubine first. With her beauty and talent, replacing a common-born wife would be no hard task. Who would have guessed that Xing Muzheng actually promised her the position of equal-wife? Overjoyed, she waited eagerly for the day she would officially marry him, bear his heir, and drive out that village woman and her son, becoming the one and only lady of the Marquis’s household.
But what she never expected—absolutely, completely never expected—was that Xing Muzheng would suddenly go insane!
He’d gone mad. He really had. That mighty general, that national hero, had turned into a raving lunatic who bit and hit people!
Feng Yuyan smashed a vase and collapsed over her dressing table, wailing, “Wet Nurse, why is my life so bitter!”
Her wet nurse, Lady Ye, stepped forward and gently stroked her head, dabbing her own eyes with a handkerchief. “Miss, try to think more positively. This is fate.”
“I can’t!” Feng Yuyan lifted her head, her face a mess of smeared rouge and powder. Wet Nurse Ye quickly moved to wipe it off, but Feng Yuyan slapped her hand away. “Wet Nurse, I don’t want to stay here anymore. I want to leave!”
Wet Nurse Ye sighed over and over. “Miss, you must bear it for now. Who would’ve thought that Qian Jiaoniang would show up?”
“He was supposed to die…”
Wet Nurse Ye quickly clamped her hand over Feng Yuyan’s mouth. “Miss, be careful! Walls have ears!” There were too many unfamiliar people now stationed around their courtyard.
As it turned out, Feng Yuyan had locked Xing Muzheng in that dark, windowless room on purpose—she was waiting for him to die.
Did she admire Xing Muzheng? Of course she did. Her uncle had told her he was a military genius, a talent not seen in decades, and he was handsome to boot—how could she not admire him? But what she admired was the invincible, commanding general—not a lunatic who’d lost his wits! She had tried everything—she’d humbled herself, personally serving him—but in return, all she got were beatings! She couldn’t save him. Every physician said he was beyond saving, that he was just a fool now.
She was still an unmarried young lady—now that Xing Muzheng had turned into a madman, was she supposed to go through with the wedding?
Feng Yuyan couldn’t even imagine spending her life with a crazed fool. But she was already betrothed. If she wanted out without tarnishing her reputation, then the only option was for Xing Muzheng to die. In his condition, death might be the kindest release. She was helping him—helping him leave this world with dignity before others found out the truth.
But she never expected that village woman to meddle halfway through—and even summon Xing Muzheng’s soldiers!
Truly a wasted effort.
Now, trapped in her own courtyard like a criminal, Feng Yuyan felt suffocated, as though her heart had been stuffed with cotton. “Wet Nurse, I want to leave. I must leave. Otherwise, they’ll force me to marry him—I absolutely won’t marry a lunatic!”
Wet Nurse Ye grabbed her and hurriedly tried to talk her out of it. “Miss, you can’t leave now. Absolutely not! Even if Li Qingquan would let us go—which he won’t—we still can’t!”
Feng Yuyan glared at her. “Why not?”
“Miss, think about it. Who is Dingxi Marquis? He’s the hero of the entire Great Xie Dynasty. A proper marquis, higher than even a first-rank official!”
“So what? He’s insane!”
“Yes, we know that. But people outside don’t! If you suddenly go back home, won’t everyone think you’ve committed some offense and were cast out by the marquis?”
“Then we can tell them the marquis is insane!” Feng Yuyan raised her voice. She had done nothing wrong!
Wet Nurse Ye let out a cry and patted Feng Yuyan’s hand earnestly. “My dear young miss, do you really think the marquis’s household would let you go shouting that in the streets? Do you think the court would allow it? We might not even make it back to the Feng family before we’re…” She made a throat-slitting gesture. “And even if one day the truth comes out and the world learns the marquis is mad, you’ll still be seen as the one who abandoned him in his time of need. You’ll bear the scorn of the entire world. No one would dare marry you, and even if you did marry, the gossip would drown you!”
Feng Yuyan buried her head in her hands, sobbing. Why was Heaven so cruel to her?
Wet Nurse Ye patted her comfortingly, wiping her own tears away in secret.
After crying for a long while, Feng Yuyan finally looked up, sniffling as she wiped her tears. She stared at her disheveled reflection in the mirror and rasped, “If I can’t leave, then I must take back control.”
Wet Nurse Ye said, “Now that the marquis has gone mad, how could that village woman possibly manage such a vast estate? Just wait, Miss. In a few more days, that Li Qingquan will come begging you for help!”
Zhou Mu, shackled at the wrists and ankles, stepped into Qian Jiaoniang’s courtyard. The place was a mess—broken chairs and tables lay scattered everywhere, some missing legs or arms. The grape trellis had collapsed into the vegetable patch, and napa cabbage leaves were strewn across the ground, trampled with huge muddy footprints and squashed into pulp.
Looks like they’d have to make new furniture again. Zhou Mu, used to the chaos by now, stepped over a chair leg and went inside.
The main hall was quiet. Only a soldier with a large nose stood guard inside. When he saw Zhou Mu enter—clearly here to report the estate’s expenses to Qian Jiaoniang—he simply said, “Madam is washing the commander’s hair in the bathing room. Wait here.”
Zhou Mu wasn’t surprised and smiled. “Then I’ll go pay my respects to the Marquis Madam first.”
The big-nosed soldier thought for a moment and pointed his chin in the direction of the bathhouse. Zhou Mu cupped his hands in salute, then dragged his shackles as he walked toward the bathhouse. As he passed by the soldier, he heard him snort coldly. Zhou Mu bared his teeth in a grin and pretended not to hear.
At that moment, Qian Jiaoniang was in the bathhouse, rinsing Xing Muzheng’s hair with clean water. Dingxi Marquis lay quietly on a bamboo chair, his head tilted back, allowing Jiaoniang to fuss over his hair.
Right after his bouts of madness was the best time to handle him—no need to worry about him going berserk again right away. Jiaoniang always took advantage of these moments to wash his hair and shave his face. Bald-headed Ah Da and his companion Wang Yong assisted her, worried that wet clothes might make Xing Muzheng uncomfortable and cause another outburst, so they had taken off his upper garment. Jiaoniang brought over a basin of poria decoction and set it on the stand. When she turned around and saw Xing Muzheng’s bare chest, she clicked her tongue, “Why strip him just to wash his hair?”
Ah Da rubbed his bald head. “This little one was just afraid the commander might get his clothes wet and throw a fit again.”
Qian Jiaoniang lifted Xing Muzheng’s long black hair and placed it into the basin of poria water. She snorted but said nothing. Still, she couldn’t help but be drawn to the scars on his chest. They were all old wounds—one ran from his left shoulder down to his right abdomen, another stretched across his chest and belly, and one small scar sat just above his heart. Jiaoniang could tell—it was an arrow wound.
“These were all from when the commander charged into battle. He always led from the front—I’ve never seen a general more heroic than the commander!” Wang Yong noticed Jiaoniang sneaking glances and flattered her accordingly.
Jiaoniang pulled her gaze back and scrubbed Xing Muzheng’s scalp expressionlessly. “That’s probably because he’s the only general you’ve ever seen.”
Her hands were firm but didn’t pull his hair. The marquis didn’t cry out, just lay there with his mouth open, rubbing his stomach.
“This humble servant, Zhou Mu, comes to pay respects to the Marquis and Madam.” Zhou Mu’s smiling voice floated in from outside.
Jiaoniang raised her voice, “Go have some tea, I’ll be done in about a stick of incense’s time.”
“Yes, yes, I’ll wait.”
Footsteps receded. Jiaoniang quickly rinsed Xing Muzheng’s hair. The bathhouse was poorly ventilated, and she was soon drenched in sweat. She licked her dry lips, pressed them together, and gently wrung out his hair. Then she brought out a razor and bent down to shave his stubbly beard. She hadn’t known how to shave before, but the last few times Ah Da and the others had tried, their clumsy hands had cut his chin, causing him to have another outburst. So Jiaoniang had to do it herself. Luckily, she was quick to learn—it wasn’t hard for her.
She bent low, holding his chin with focused hands, while Xing Muzheng watched beads of sweat roll down her soft cheek to her jaw and slip into her collar. Her wheat-colored skin was flushed from the heat.
“All right, you two wash the marquis’s body. I’m going out,” said Jiaoniang, finishing the shave. She wiped his face with a towel, tossed it into the basin, and prepared to leave.
Ah Da and Wang Yong exchanged glances. “Madam, Madam, why don’t you wash the marquis yourself too? We’ll fetch the water for you…”
It wasn’t clear if it was the heat or Ah Da’s suggestion, but Jiaoniang’s face turned even redder. She glared at Ah Da, “You make me do everything—what next, I eat your meals for you too?”
Ah Da rubbed his head, feeling wronged. “No, Madam, it’s just… when you wash the commander’s hair, he’s always so well-behaved—uh, I mean calm! When we do it, he’s never satisfied…” Every time they bathed him, they ended up with a few more bruises. “We just thought, maybe if you were there, he’d let us wash him properly.”
Jiaoniang said, “Don’t scrub him like you’re plucking a duck—maybe he’ll be satisfied then.”
“Madam speaks wisely. It’s just… it’s been nearly half a year since we’ve seen duck or tasted duck meat. We’ve forgotten how to pluck ducks,” Wang Yong said, spreading his hands.
Jiaoniang burst into laughter, carrying the basin of water out. “You poor things. Once I get my monthly allowance, I’ll buy two old ducks, have you pluck them, and make soup.”
“Thank you, Madam! Long life to Madam!”
Xing Muzheng was displeased. Was this how a proper madam of the house behaved? Chattering away with Ah Da and Wang Yong like brothers? And what was this about waiting on her monthly allowance—was she that strapped for money? Could twenty taels of silver a month not cover her expenses?
The fool kicked Wang Yong in the leg.
Want to show your support? Go donate at Paypal or Ko-fi to show your appreciation! Want to get early access to at least 5+ chapters in advance? Go to my Patreon to join now! :)
