After sunset, Xing Muzheng returned to the residence and indeed hosted a banquet in the front hall for all four members of the Tian family. Tian Linwen was surprised. He had thought Xing Muzheng would only entertain him and Tian Yongzhang, leaving Madam Qian to handle the women. He never expected the Marquis would treat them like common folk, inviting them all to dine together.
Tian Linwen had never held his back so straight. It was a sign of recognition from his nephew. After all, Xing Muzheng was a real Marquis—anyone Tian Linwen had worked for before paled in comparison. If he could gain his nephew’s support, he might just land an official position himself, and climbing higher would then be much easier.
The top priority was to get rid of the only obstacle: Qian Jiaoniang.
Qian Jiaoniang and Xing Pingchun sat silently on Xing Muzheng’s side. They seemed very afraid of him, not daring to speak. When Xing Muzheng told them to eat, they ate. When he asked Jiaoniang to offer wine, she did. The only initiative she showed was telling a maid to give Liu Ying more chicken, saying Auntie liked it.
Xing Muzheng, watching the fish on the table, found it quite appetizing. He wanted to pick a piece of belly meat for Jiaoniang but hesitated, thinking it might cost him his masculine pride. So he signaled the steward, and Ding Zhang understood instantly, instructing the maid to serve the most tender piece to Jiaoniang.
By the end of the meal, Liu Ying dabbed at her lips with a handkerchief, smiling. Then remembering her sister’s demeanor, she reined it in a bit and said, “Yazheng, thank you for your kind hospitality.”
Xing Muzheng paused slightly. Yazheng was his courtesy name. After his father died, only his mother had ever called him that.
Jiaoniang raised an eyebrow. Not a bad move.
“Wife,” Tian Linwen said with a faux scolding tone, “Nephew Xing is a Marquis now—how can you call him by his courtesy name?”
Liu Ying exclaimed, “Oh my, look at me! My sister always called him ‘Yazheng,’ so I just followed out of habit. Don’t mind me, Marquis Nephew!”
Xing Muzheng said calmly, “Aunt and Uncle may call me Muzheng.”
Tian Linwen and Liu Ying exchanged a look. Tian Linwen said, “No, no, we couldn’t possibly! You are a Marquis, we are mere commoners—how can we call you by your given name?”
“No need to stand on ceremony,” Xing Muzheng said. Then he turned to Jiaoniang. “Jiaoniang, when you went to aunt’s house, why didn’t you stay longer and wait for me to fetch you?”
Why is this guy calling my name so casually now? Jiaoniang frowned slightly but didn’t show it too obviously. Before she could answer, Liu Ying rushed to speak.
“Sigh, it’s all because of my foolish sister. She’d only been with us less than a year before insisting on leaving, saying she didn’t want to burden us. Truth is, she knew your uncle was having a hard time those years, and she didn’t want to drag us down. No matter how we tried to stop her, she was determined to go! And when she left, she didn’t even tell us where—just said she’d write once she settled down. Who would’ve thought she’d be gone for so long…” As she spoke, Liu Ying choked up and dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief.
Truly a mouth that turns black into white—Qian Jiaoniang almost wanted to applaud her.
Mother could be incredibly stubborn at times, like ten horses couldn’t pull her back. Xing Muzheng turned to Qian Jiaoniang and asked, “Is that true?”
Tian Yongzhang almost jumped up. “Cousin, what kind of question is that? How could it not be true?”
Xing Muzheng greatly disliked being interrupted. He had tolerated it earlier since it came from his mother’s twin sister, but now even a younger cousin dared to butt into his words? He shot a cold look across, and Tian Yongzhang immediately shrank back.
Qian Jiaoniang said, “Auntie said it. How could it not be true?”
Liu Ying and Tian Linwen both secretly let out a breath of relief.
“After leaving the Tian family, how did you survive?” Two women and a child traveling during the chaos of war—Xing Muzheng’s heart tightened. Back then, when he enlisted, it had also been out of desperation. When the nest is overturned, how can any egg remain intact? But Yuzhou hadn’t been taken by Western Li—why had his mother taken Jiaoniang and left Gui County to seek refuge with her sister? “Why did you leave Gui County in the first place?”
Qian Jiaoniang’s eyes flickered in the wavering candlelight. She smiled faintly. “It’s been so long, I don’t even remember.”
Xing Muzheng felt a sharp pang in his chest. It wasn’t that she couldn’t remember—she just didn’t want to tell him anything. He should’ve asked these questions when he first brought her and her son back, but back then, grieving his mother’s death, he thought the past was in the past and not worth mentioning. So when Jiaoniang glossed over it and said everything had been fine, he didn’t press.
Now that he thought about it, it wasn’t that he didn’t care back then—it was that he didn’t know how to care. Now that he did, Jiaoniang no longer wanted to speak.
Sensing the strange atmosphere, Tian Linwen felt uneasy. He cleared his throat and drew out his words: “Muzheng—where are your parents buried? One of the most important reasons we’ve come is to pay our respects to your father and mother.”
Xing Muzheng pulled his gaze back and faced Tian Linwen. “My parents are buried together on Qixia Mountain in Gui County. The funeral was all arranged by Jiaoniang—” Then where did Mother die? If she passed away elsewhere, how did Jiaoniang bring her back for burial? One question after another clogged Xing Muzheng’s throat, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask. Even if he did, he doubted he’d get an answer.
“If Aunt and Uncle wish to pay respects, I’ll take you there tomorrow. Before Mother passed, she was most concerned about Auntie—‘Yingzi… Yingzi…’” Qian Jiaoniang imitated the call, soft and drawn out, sending chills down everyone’s spine. “She called like that. It was truly moving.”
Liu Ying broke out in a cold sweat. Xing Muzheng might not know, but she knew exactly why her sister had called her. She cast a fearful glance at her husband. Tian Linwen kept signaling at her with his eyes, and Liu Ying forced herself into a look of fond remembrance. “My poor sister—”
“Wife, the dead cannot return. These years, you’ve fallen ill from mourning your sister… sigh…” Tian Linwen sighed sorrowfully. “Then we’ll go to Gui County tomorrow and fulfill your wish.”
Xing Muzheng said, “Tomorrow might be inconvenient. In a few days, once I’ve made arrangements, we’ll all go together.”
Tian Linwen was surprised. “Muzheng is going too?”
Qian Jiaoniang turned her head, seemingly sharing the same question.
Realizing his words were a bit too blunt, Tian Linwen quickly added, “You’re so busy with official matters—just let Madam Qian, your wife, accompany us.”
“Uncle is right,” Liu Ying chimed in.
But Xing Muzheng remained unmoved. “I’ll go. And Chou’er will go too.”
“I—I—I want to go!” Xing Pingchun had been holding back all night. Hearing this, he couldn’t help but jump up and raise his hand. But under the twin glares of his parents, he awkwardly pulled his hand back and stood there feeling very alone.
Seeing this, Liu Ying rushed over and pulled him into her arms. “Alright, alright, my son, you’ll go too! Go offer incense to your grandmother and pray for her blessing, so you’ll bring glory to our family in the future!”
And so it was decided. Since it was late, everyone retired to their rooms. That’s all for now.
For the next few days, Xing Muzheng left early and returned late—no one knew what he was busy with. Still, each morning he made Xing Pingchun practice martial exercises. Pingchun was excited for a couple of days, then found it unbearable. He didn’t dare complain to his father, so he begged his mother in secret. But to his dismay, his mother only said she couldn’t interfere.
Liu Ying, on the other hand, came cheerfully to the study every morning, smiling as she watched father and son train. She called the exhausted Pingchun her “dearest darling” and would often cook porridge and bring it to them herself. Not only that, she began making new shoes and clothes for Xing Muzheng, staying up each night to wait for him to return, fussing over him and preparing late-night meals.
Her performance was gradually paying off—Xing Muzheng seemed increasingly friendly toward this aunt of his. Qian Jiaoniang, however, remained calm and composed, quietly practicing calligraphy and embroidery in her courtyard.
One day, Ding Zhang came to greet her. He said that the day before, Uncle Tian had secretly slipped him ten taels of silver, trying to probe whether Madam had been dismissed. This time, Ding Zhang told the truth—but refused the silver.
Qian Jiaoniang placed her embroidery needle down with a sigh. “Uncle and Auntie must’ve been very shocked and upset, right?”
“Well…” Ding Zhang hesitated, then nodded. Aunt and Uncle did seem to sigh and grieve. But that young master and young lady… they looked more like they were celebrating. No matter how he looked at it, they didn’t seem sad.
“What’s the matter?” Qingya asked on purpose.
Ding Zhang let out a dry laugh. “Uncle and Aunt did sigh and lament, but Young Master and Young Lady probably didn’t catch what I said. Instead, they looked rather pleased. Later, Uncle scolded them.”
Qian Jiaoniang didn’t mind and smiled. “They’re just children.”
Well, one was nearly twenty and the other past sixteen—not exactly “just children,” Ding Zhang thought to himself. But he didn’t say more. “Madam, the Master asked me to gather the silver and have you distribute it to the servants.”
Qian Jiaoniang paused, then slowly raised her head. “What about… the people in the dungeon?”
Ding Zhang stiffened slightly. “Yes, before dawn today, those criminals were executed.” The bloody scene had left his legs weak—several of the other servants who witnessed it were trembling and vomiting. The Marquis didn’t so much as frown.
“And Feng Yuyan…?”
“Yes. Feng Yuyan and all the servants in her courtyard were executed.”
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