How had he offended this young lady?
Why was her temper so much harder to understand than the others? Outrageous!
I must find an opportunity to complain to the Young Madam about her—this girl mustn’t be allowed to go on being so arrogant!
As this thoughts spinned in his mind the moonlight spilled across the mansion, casting warmth in some corners while leaving others cloaked in impenetrable shadow.
Inside Yunjin Courtyard, Madam Wei turned her gaze toward the Duke sleeping soundly at her side. The patience she once held for him had long since worn thin.
With faint distaste, she slipped his arm from her waist and quietly rose from the bed. Stepping into the outer room, she seated herself on an armchair.
Mama Jiao, her lifelong confidante, draped a coat over her shoulders and poured a cup of warm water, her voice tinged with concern.
“Madam, you should rest. In a few days we must host the birthday banquet for the Duke and appearing listless there will not do.”
“Hmph, a birthday banquet? What sort of celebration is it for a man who thinks only of himself at such a critical time? If not for Jialian’s marriage, I wouldn’t bother giving him such face.”
Her eyes drifted toward Shang Yukuan, lying not far away. Her gaze was cool, almost dismissive. Ever since he had hidden himself in cowardice when the Fifth Old Master flew into madness a few days ago, her heart had turned cold toward him.
Once, she had treated this gentle, kind husband sincerely. But the inner court was a hard place, and as the years passed, affection faded, leaving only empty forms and surface harmony.
Though the scandal of the Fifth Household had been suppressed, who could say when another calamity might erupt? Such anxieties made her nights restless.
Mama Jiao, who had served her since childhood for over fifty years, understood her mistress’s worries at once. Leaning close, she whispered soothingly:
“Madam, set your mind at ease. With our neice’s beauty and talent, she will have no difficulty finding a good match. This servant dares say she would be perfectly suited for our Seventh Young Master. And if cousins were to become sisters-in-law, our family ties would grow even stronger.”
Indeed, her eldest son Shang Silang had already married Madam Wei’s eldest niece, Wei Jiaying. The “Jialian” Madam Wei spoke of now was her youngest niece, barely four months from reaching maturity—prime age to be wed. Madam Wei intended to use the coming banquet as a chance to secure her future. But when it came to her most cherished son, Qilang, she was of a different mind.
Waving her hand, she declared:
“Silang is soft-hearted. He requires a daughter-in-law who will uphold my ways and keep the household secure. But Qilang is not so simple. He must marry a woman who will lend him strength in court, one whose family’s influence can bolster his own.”
Her tone hardened, and she let out a cold snort.
“Otherwise, relying on that Duke is useless—and as for the great general in the East Garden, even less so.”
No one saw the matter more clearly than Madam Wei.
“Indeed,” Mama Jiao agreed softly. “With our Seventh Young Master’s abilities, he is more than qualified to become the consort of a princess.”
Her words struck a chord.
The Daxing dynasty had lasted but two reigns; there was no such restriction as a royal son-in-law being barred from wielding power. Quite the contrary—many of the great families now dominating the court had risen precisely through marrying their daughters early into the imperial clan.
If her eldest niece could successfully marry into the Prince of Fu’s household, then her beloved son’s path would also open. Perhaps she might even become the mother-in-law of a princess.
At this thought, Madam Wei’s earlier irritation ebbed, replaced by a rare spark of hope.
Meanwhile, the Duke snored on, entirely unaware.
The moon set, the sun rose, and another uneasy night passed into day.
When Du Jingyi awoke, the place beside her was already empty. But the bedding still carried the faintest trace of warmth.
Every time after sharing a bed with him, she felt her body limp, unwilling to rise. Truly, he was a man of the battlefield—vigorous and unrelenting. If he continued to exhaust her so, she doubted she could withstand it for long.
Yet life in the household would not wait. No matter her weariness, she had to rise.
Hearing movement within, Yingtao entered the inner room. Between mistress and maid there was little need for embarrassment.
“Young Madam, the bath is ready. Would you like to soak now?”
“Yes, let’s go.”
Du Jingyi cherished cleanliness, and Yingtao understood her habits best.
Still fasting that morning, she did not linger in the tub. Once the stickiness of the night before had been thoroughly washed away, she stepped out, perfumed herself, and changed into a moon-white gown embroidered with blue butterflies. Her hair, left loose, was dried by Lizhu as Du Jingyi sat down to eat her breakfast.
The morning was, in truth, serene and comfortable.
But her leisure was soon interrupted by a thick ledger sent by her sister-in-law.
Seeing the hefty volume, Du Jingyi could not help but laugh in mild exasperation.
“Sister-in-law must have written without rest after returning home.”
Though she spoke half in jest, gratitude filled her heart. To the messenger, she said warmly:
“Tell my sister-in-law I will certainly live up to her expectations. She needn’t worry—she may inspect it herself.”
The man bowed and withdrew.
After eating her fill, Du Jingyi began leafing through the booklet.
Its style was meticulous, reminiscent of Steward He and Madam Dou—no doubt all taught under Madam Gu’s hand.
Inside was a catalogue of every notable prince, noble, high official, and military commander of the Daxing dynasty.
“No wonder it’s so thick,” she murmured with amusement, though her eyes soon grew intent.
Perhaps thirty percent of the contents were already familiar to her. The rest, however, revealed the vast gulf between the merchant class and the truly powerful.
What drew her attention most was the section on Madam Wei’s own family—the mighty Taiwei household.
The current patriarch was, of course, Madam Wei’s father, the Grand Commandant. He had risen from an ordinary post to his lofty station—a feat nothing short of remarkable, though greatly aided by his wife’s influential kin.
Madam Wei had an elder brother with one son and two daughters. The brother now served as deputy commander of the garrison at Sui’an, entrusted with the city’s defense. His legitimate son naturally followed him, serving as a fifth-rank officer in the Military Command.
The elder daughter was Shang Silang’s wife—Madam Wei’s daughter-in-law. Du Jingyi had little contact with her, but the children she raised struck her as far too indulged, ill-mannered and difficult to discipline.
As for the youngest daughter…
Du Jingyi’s finger rested upon her name. Beside her, Yingtao happened to glimpse it as she poured tea. At once, her face tightened with unease.