Chapter 24

Shen Qing stood silently. “I admit to what I’ve done. As for the Xue family, they should go before a magistrate. Wanling deserves justice.”

The villagers had heard plenty of rumors: that Xiao Wanling had a miscarriage, that Shen Qing was being cuckolded, that she was shamelessly flirting with men—including even the Prince of Jin—and would abandon Shen Qing for a better life.

The village head glared at Old Lady Liu, nearly fainting from anger. His son quickly stepped in to steady him, and after a while, the village head recovered enough to say, “When did Qishan Village become such a cesspit? Old Lady Liu, your conduct is disgraceful!” He turned to his son, “Go fetch Xue Zhengyang!”

Old Lady Liu panicked. “But others were saying things too—why am I the only one being blamed?”

The village head’s son ignored her and shoved past, heading to summon Xue Zhengyang and his three sons.

Xue Zhengyang’s back pain flared as he got up. Everything was spinning in front of his eyes. When he arrived at the village head’s home, he found a crowd gathered in the courtyard.

Inside, the village head and his wife sat at the head of the room, Shen Qing stood silently nearby, and Old Lady Liu was on the floor weeping—it looked like a tribunal.

Before Xue Zhengyang could speak, the village head said bluntly, “Old Lady Liu has stirred up trouble, slandered the women of the village, tried to sabotage marriages, and even poisoned someone—then tried to shift the blame. Were you aware of any of this?”

Xue Zhengyang was stunned as the accusations piled on—he couldn’t believe it.

Old Lady Liu, seeing his doubtful expression, cried harder. “I’m innocent! Even when my eldest daughter-in-law hit me, I endured it all for the sake of the family!”

Xue Defu rolled his eyes to the heavens. Why air the family’s dirty laundry in public?

Xue Zhengyang seemed to agree. “This is a Xue family matter. Everyone gossips behind people’s backs. I’ll discipline Old Lady Liu myself.”

The village head looked at him in disappointment. “So you’re covering for her?” Without waiting for an answer, he turned to Shen Qing, “I’ll see that this is dealt with properly. Everyone can go now.”

He gestured for the crowd to leave.

Shen Qing walked straight out the door. Xue Zhengyang called after him, but he didn’t even pause—he acted like he hadn’t heard a thing.

The village head’s son ushered the Xue family out.

Dragged from their beds in the middle of the night only to be kicked out unceremoniously, Xue Dean muttered, “What nonsense.”

Xue Zhengyang glanced at Old Lady Liu. “You’d better explain everything when we get home!” Judging by Shen Qing’s behavior, he was done with the Xue family, and Xue Zhengyang knew exactly what kind of man Shen Qing was.

Back at home, Old Lady Liu sent her three sons to their rooms and knelt in front of her husband, offering him tea and massaging his back.

“Don’t hate me. I can’t read, I don’t speak well, and I’ve always followed your lead. I didn’t object when you invited Shen Qing or asked Madam Xiao to cook for Cui’er’s wedding banquet!”

Xue Zhengyang thought about it. It was true that Old Lady Liu had been unhappy but held her tongue. Maybe this was all a misunderstanding. Maybe Madam Xiao said something to Shen Qing?

—

Shen Qing returned home to find Xiao Wanling had packed her belongings. She was clearly waiting for him.

He stepped toward her but caught the scent of blood on himself and turned around to wash up first. Afterward, he lingered, unsure how to face her, and busied himself with the laundry.

A pair of embroidered shoes stopped in front of him—the hem of a lake-green skirt swaying lightly. “Shen Qing, I want to talk.”

He wrung out the clothes hard, hung them on the line, picked up a bamboo mat, and followed her into the house.

There, a written divorce letter lay on the table. Xiao Wanling pushed it toward him. “Sign it.” If I don’t come back, this will protect you. You can show them we’re no longer married.”

She’d thought it through—if Madam Ji wouldn’t listen to reason, she would run. But she didn’t want to drag Shen Qing with her. He had already suffered enough; he shouldn’t have to live on the run because of her.

Shen Qing lowered his head, fists clenched at his sides. “I won’t sign it.” She was planning to leave him again, even after he’d said he was willing to run away with her.

He picked her up and set her gently on the bed, then laid the mat on the floor and sat down, shoeless. He looked up at her and said solemnly, “I want to protect you.”

She gave him a bitter smile. “Shen Qing, our relationship isn’t there yet. There’s no need to follow me into life and death. I just want you to live well. That’s what your parents in heaven would want for you.”

Suddenly, he leaned against her leg, resting his head there. “Okay,” he mumbled.

Then he stood, blew out the candle, and lay quietly in the dark.

He dreamt a beautiful dream that night. In the morning, sunshine spilled through the window lattice as he went about the day as if nothing had happened.

Xiao Wanling sat on the oxcart, her travel bag on her wrist. She looked at Shen Qing’s back, reluctant to part. She turned for one last look at the home they had built together, committing every detail to memory.

She noticed the grapevine beneath the trellis had sprouted fresh green leaves, and the honeysuckle climbing the bamboo fence was in bloom. An idea sprang to mind, but she didn’t have time to dwell on it—the Prince of Jin’s servants had arrived.

The tall, heavyset servant and the short, thin one were mounted and carrying sabers. They came down the mountain, blocking the cart at a fork in the road.

“Don’t waste time,” they said.

“We need to deliver these refreshments and pastries to villagers who ordered them,” Xiao Wanling protested.

The tall servant grew impatient and cracked his whip. The horse neighed and galloped off toward the village.

Soon, the village head’s son came rushing over.

At the stone bridge, villagers gathered to watch. Xue Cui was secretly overjoyed that Xiao Wanling was leaving. Shen Qing will be mine now!

The prince’s servants unloaded the food from the cart and pushed for departure.

Shen Qing said nothing, only drove the cart. An hour later, midway up the mountain path, the old ox suddenly refused to move and began nibbling grass.

“What’s the holdup?” the servants shouted.

Shen Qing jumped down. “The ox is tired. We’ve been going too fast.”

Eager to return, the servants decided to use horses to pull the cart.

Xiao Wanling sensed something was wrong. She handed him a bamboo flask. “Shen Qing, have some water.”

When he came over, she whispered, “What are you planning?”

He didn’t answer, but she saw white powder on the whip in his hand. Her eyes widened. She grabbed his arm and said, “Wait for my signal.”

“Hurry up!” The servant barked, lashing the horse.

The rest of the trip was uneventful until they reached the city gates, where their cart was surrounded.

The Prince of Jin’s men drew their sabers to drive back the starving refugees blocking the road.

The gate guards recognized the household livery and noticed Shen Qing and Xiao Wanling, assuming they were newly recruited. If only I’d known to cozy up to him earlier, one thought bitterly.

At the prince’s residence, Shen Qing was held outside while a plump old maid came to verify the identity. Seeing Xiao Wanling’s stern face, she forced a smile. “Madam, you’ve kept our lady waiting.”

They passed through long corridors, rock gardens, lotus ponds, and finally a grand courtyard surrounded by blooming apricot trees.

The mansion was massive.

The maid stopped outside a lavish room. “Wait here.” She went inside and returned after a quarter of an hour, finally beckoning Xiao Wanling in.

After standing in the sun, the cool interior felt like a slap of ice. Two towering ice chests flanked the space. A plaque above the divider read The Phoenix Comes with Grace, and beyond a carved archway lay an elegant chamber, separated by pearl bead curtains and brocade from Shu.

Madam Ji reclined on a chaise, adorned with a grand headdress, supported by an elderly maid. The floor was lined with furs, muffling all footsteps.

She sipped tea, squinted, and suddenly hurled the cup to the ground. “This tea is bitter, sour, and musty! Who made it?!”

The maid dropped to her knees. “I’ll punish the staff at once!” She hurried outside; soon the sounds of weeping and the thuds of paddles could be heard.

Madam Ji relaxed. With a flick of her fingers, she dismissed the matter.

Xiao Wanling lowered her head. “Madam, please allow me to return to my village. I must refine a better tea for your enjoyment.”

Madam Ji reclined languidly. “The mountain roads to Qishan are too far. Someone arrange a residence for Madam Xiao.”

Seeing Xiao Wanling still standing, she raised an eyebrow. “What more do you want?”

Xiao Wanling remained poised. “Madam, staying in one place too long dulls creativity. I cannot make food that brings you joy if I am uninspired. What’s more, I’ve only just wed. Separation is… a bitter thing, and such emotions may affect my cooking.”

Madam Ji found her amusing. Bold and odd—that’s how the talented usually are. “Bring her husband too. Make him a guard. You two can stay together.”

The maid nearly collapsed in shock. She should quit while she’s ahead!

“Go prepare refreshments,” she snapped.

Xiao Wanling complied. In the side chamber, she found fruit, milk, and tea.

She remembered the ice chests and swiftly brewed tea, prepared milk-fruit porridge, and placed it in ice until it thickened, then brought it out.

Madam Ji’s brows finally relaxed as she tasted it.

Xiao Wanling took the chance to plead again. “Madam, the mountains are rich in spiritual energy. That’s how I come up with recipes that are not only delicious but also maintain youth and beauty.”

Madam Ji sat upright. “You have such a recipe?”

“Facial masks,” Xiao Wanling replied.

Madam Ji smiled. Fine lines crinkled at the corners of her eyes—she must have been a great beauty once. “Very well. You may go.”

A maid escorted her out.

Once she was gone, the plump old maid stepped in.

“I think she’s lying,” she muttered.

Madam Ji opened her eyes and gave her a chilling stare. The maid instantly dropped to her knees, forehead touching the fur rug.

Another servant shook her head. “You’re too clever for your own good. Do you really think Madam Ji can’t tell truth from lies? All she cares about is results.”

Madam Ji waved a hand. “Get up. But there better not be a next time. Now—what about that man of hers?”

The maid bowed deeply. “Shall we dispose of him? It would teach her a lesson.”

Madam Ji stretched lazily. “Do it.”