When Du Jingyi heard this, she couldn’t help but think that Mama Jiao had been living a sheltered life for far too long.
Her words were riddled with loopholes, and Du Jingyi immediately saw through Madam Wei’s intentions from her deamenor.
Wasn’t this simply an attempt to push her into offending others?
But since this was exactly the situation Du Jingyi wished to see, she feigned ignorance, her face showing concern as she asked Madam Jiao gently:
“What’s wrong? Haven’t you been doing well these days?”
“It’s difficult to explain in just a few words, Madam. You should come see for yourself.”
With that, Mama Jiao quickly stepped aside, leading the way for Du Jingyi.
Mama Cai, however, was uneasy, fearing she might be dragged into serious trouble. She quietly sent someone through the second gate to summon Butler He and Madam Dou back to the Duke’s Mansion for backup .
As for Madam Liu, who had been observing quietly from the shadows near the gate, once she saw Du Jingyi follow Madam Jiao, she immediately led her people back to Fuqiu Courtyard.
No extra commotion arose.
Mama Jiao walked briskly infront of the crowd , as though she wished for wind-fire wheels beneath her feet to hasten the way.
Du Jingyi, though appearing anxious, deliberately slowed her steps, which left Mama Jiao both impatient and helpless.
So by the time they reached the entrance of Yunjin Courtyard, Mama Jiao was already panting slightly. Du Jingyi also dabbed her own forehead with a handkerchief and said softly,
“Forgive me, Madam. For some reason, I’ve been feeling weak and lightheaded these past few days.”
Mama Jiao forced a smile, swallowing her irritation, and led her inside without a word.
Once within, Du Jingyi at last understood why Madam Jiao was so uneasy.
It had to be admitted: when the Third and Fifth branches of the family clashed, their strength was truly formidable.
Just days ago, Yunjin Courtyard had purchased all manner of rare delicacies and fine objects in preparation for the Duke’s birthday. Now, those same things had become the root of calamity.
A red-tailed koi, nearly the length of a forearm, lay flopping half-dead on the flagstones.
The prized water lilies from the pond had been torn out, flowers and leaves alike, now lying in muddy ruin.
The longevity character (壽), originally arranged with great care out of Taihu stones, had been smashed apart, leaving only a fragment shaped like the word “inch”—a scene of bleak desolation.
Most chilling of all were the bloodstains and tattered strips of fabric scattered on the ground, mute evidence of a violent struggle.
The maids Yingtao and Lizhu suppressed their inner delight, outwardly feigning calm for the scene.
And as there mistress, Du Jingyi had to show even greater restraint for it .
Instead of taking advantage of the chaos, she wore a mask of grave concern and asked Mama Jiao in a low voice:
“What has happened here? How did things come to this?”
Mama Jiao also flushed with embarrassment. By the time she had arrived, the Third and Fifth branches had already broken apart—had they clashed again afterwards?
She could only answer hesitantly,
“It’s all over the marriages of the Fourth Miss and the Seventh Miss. This uproar is because of them. Madam, please go in and see. I fear this is only the beginning.”
Her words were earnest, and Du Jingyi understood perfectly.
She drew out a handkerchief and dabbed at her temples, a gesture that irked Mama Jiao even more.
So timid before even stepping inside?
Before another word could be said, someone lifted the curtain from within.
As similar as when she and Shang Ji had once come to serve tea, the hall was packed—some seated, others standing.
The difference was that last time, all had been stiffly polite. Now, it was utter chaos.
Du Jingyi entered, bowed deeply, and said with proper decorum:
“Daughter-in-law greets Father and greets Madam Wei.”
She performed the greeting rites flawlessly, leaving no room for censure. Then she looked up—and caught her breath.
The Third Old Master’s beard had been ripped out by the roots. His chin was swollen and streaked with blood, leaving him unable to speak.
The Third Old Madam, usually so sharp-tongued, now sat red-faced, clutching her belly and groaning faintly. No one knew what had befallen her.
Second Brother’s wife, Madam Guan—ordinarily the loudest voice—looked as though she had been beaten savagely. Her cheeks were now swollen, her hair in disarray, her hands are also covered with bruises.
She leaned against Third Brother’s wife, who herself appeared in better condition than most, her collar only slightly torn. She seemed to be acting as mediator rather than fighter.
Beneath the red pillar, Second Brother leaned against the wall, his forehead bound by a physician’s bandage. His pallid face heaved with labored breaths.
Yet if the Third House was battered, the Fifth House fared no better.
The Fifth Old Master sat glaring, one eye darkened with a bruise, his chest rising and falling furiously.
The Fifth Old Madam and Madam Ni, though their hair was tousled and robes disordered, clung protectively to Wulang’s wife as though she were treasure, ignoring their own injuries.
Thanks to this, Wulang’s wife was mostly unharmed—merely shaken, her eyes red as she held her belly protectively, glaring fearfully toward the Third House.
But Shang Yu’an, Shang Yuding, and Shang Wulang had not escaped so lightly.
Their faces, hands, and legs were raked with scratches, gouged by jewelry, even pelted with stones.
Not one of them was spared—they all lay groaning on the ground.
Du Jingyi had never seen such a disgraceful spectacle.
But no matter how absurd she found it, she forced her face into a mask of deep worry.
“What has happened here?” she asked.
At this, the Fifth Old Master could no longer restrain himself. He shot to his feet, cursing:
“What’s happened? I should ask what’s happened! We only sought a proper marriage for Qi Niang, and the Third House set upon us like rabid dogs! Si Niang is already wed once, yet she still wants to climb higher? Does she not see what manner of person she is? Bah!”
The words had barely left his lips before the Third House erupted as well, nearly leaping up to hurl their own curses—only to be restrained by Shang Yukuan and Madam Wei.
Both looked mortified as they tried to smooth things over, especially Madam Wei, who stepped forward, speaking tearfully to Du Jingyi:
“I have already sent for Liu Lang. This is all my fault—the household in such disorder! From now on, this mansion will be managed by you and your husband. So please, you must mediate today.
The Third and Fifth Houses are all elders. If this turns into a real scandal, it will not be they who are disgraced, but the entire Duke’s Mansion. You understand this, don’t you?”
She was skilled at shirking blame, washing her hands of responsibility while pretending to place authority on Shang Ji and Du Jingyi—effectively transferring all anger onto them.
But Du Jingyi was no fool. She had only come to watch the show—why should she truly intervene?
Wouldn’t that make all her month of careful preparation go to waste?
Thus, she put on a show of indignation and said,
“What do you mean, Madam Wei? Did you not instruct the Fifth House to seek our counsel? How is it that, in my Fifth Uncle’s words, it now sounds as though we were the ones insisting on arranging this marriage for my Seventh Sister?”