Silang’s wife lifted her eyes toward Du Jingyi. On the surface, Du Jingyi’s words sounded pleasant—mild and conciliatory. Yet in truth, she had implied that Silang’s wife was bullying Xueniang, still only a half-grown girl.
Silang’s wife was not only the Duke’s daughter-in-law but also held the keys to the inner household (back courtyard management and household accounts were traditionally overseen by senior wives). Her authority was not easily challenged. So she opened her lips, ready to rebuke.
But Du Jingyi shifted the topic before she could speak.
“Today is Father-in-law’s birthday banquet. I believe it is nearly time. Surely the guests will be arriving soon. My husband and Father-in-law should go to the front hall to receive them.”
Her words were calm, appropriate, and impossible to refute.
Hearing this, Duke Shang Yukuan chuckled in agreement. As it give him a way out of this stalemate.
“Yes, yes. Sixth Son’s wife is truly thoughtful. Silang, Qilang, Ping’er, He’er—come, let us go ahead.”
With the Duke speaking, no one could argue further.
Shang Ji cast a glance at his wife with faint worry. But seeing her composed and smiling, he felt reassured.
“Let’s go,” he said, and all the men followed.
Fourth Son Shang Zhihe immediately strode forward to stand beside the Duke, ensuring he remained in full view on this day where all eyes were meant to rest upon his father.
Young Shang Zhiping, however, hesitated at the back. His Mother, Madam Liu, sighed inwardly, her heart tightening with concern.
Du Jingyi noticed. Taking two quiet steps forward, she bent slightly and spoke gently to Zhiping.
“Ping’er, follow your Sixth Uncle. I hear several sons of noble families near your age will be here today. They are modest, well-mannered gentlemen—you may find new friends among them.”
Her voice was neither sharp like the Sixth Uncle’s nor heavy with a mother’s sighs. It was soft, steady, and reassuring.
Zhiping’s tense shoulders eased hearing this . So he gave a shy smile in response and bowed lightly.
“Thank you, Sixth Aunt.”
Then he moved obediently to Shang Ji’s side.
Shang Ji, knowing that Ping’er’s temperament could not be corrected in a day, softened his own tone:
“Don’t be afraid. Let’s go together.”
“…Yes, Uncle.”
Across the room, Shang Zhihe shot the “eldest grandson” a cold, contemptuous look for his timtid behaviour. Du Jingyi caught it and thought quietly to herself as how to deal woth it later.
As the men filed out to the front hall (where the Duke’s male relatives and officials would formally receive birthday guests), leaving only the women behind in the inner quarters.
But after the earlier exchange, the atmosphere among the women was taut with unspoken hostility.
So to ease up Madam Wei raised her teacup, her tone cool yet polite.
“You were unwell only a few days ago, Sixth Brother’s wife. I thought it would take much longer for you to recover. I did not expect to see you so soon. It seems the imperial physician’s skills have much improved.”
Du Jingyi immediately understood the barb hidden beneath the comment.So after a pause, she smiled serenely.
“Thank you for your concern, Madam Wei. The court physician’s treatments are indeed quite effective.”
Standing nearby, Silang’s wife gave a derisive little laugh to her reply.
“Perhaps East Courtyard is simply blessed. For so many years, I have often heard of illness and frailty within those walls. Yet when one looks closely today, everyone appears perfectly well.”
She was from the Taiwei Mansion [note: Taiwei was one of the highest-ranking military offices of the dynasty; a family with both grandfather and father holding posts there would wield significant influence]. Her own birth family was powerful, so her words carried weight. Unlike the blunt Third and Fifth Wives, she cloaked her meaning in silk—yet her sarcasm still cut sharply.
Eldest Sister-in-law Liu, widowed and long vulnerable, felt the sting most keenly. Her face paled as she retorted, unable to contain her grievance:
“Silang’s wife, mind your tongue. Must you be so mocking on a day of celebration?”
Silang’s wife only smiled sweetly, her tone dripping with false innocence.
“Sister-in-law misunderstands me. I was just praising your East Courtyard. Since it is such a fortunate place, perhaps you all should remain within it more often and not trouble yourselves with too much coming and going.”
The hidden needles in her words were plain: she implied that the East Courtyard should stay quiet and confined, unlike the past when it still held prominence.
Madam Liu flushed, half-rising as though to argue, but the courage drained from her when she think about her own standing. This was Yunjin Courtyard—Madam Wei’s domain. Silang’s wife, both niece and daughter-in-law to Madam Wei, was naturally shielded here. It would only end in humiliation if she engage in this more.
But before the insult could linger, Du Jingyi’s sweet smile returned, sharper than any blade.
“Does Fourth Sister-in-law truly admire East Courtyard so much? Then once we move to the General’s Mansion, why not let Madam Wei assign you there instead? After all, West Courtyard may be a little crowded now, housing two families. Wouldn’t it be better for you to live in the more spacious East?”
She let the words sink in, her tone light as she continued:
“I heard that even the courtyard where my Eldest Sister once lived was demolished, the space given over to the children. No need to worry—before I leave, I’ll see that courtyard properly tidied. That way you may move in at once and share in the East Courtyard’s blessings.”
Her words landed like hidden arrows: implying that the West Courtyard was cramped and second-rate, that they could only inherit cast-off quarters—and even hinting at Madam Wei’s own usurpation of the late Madam Gu’s position as Duke’s Consort.
Silang’s wife’s face froze, with words stuck in her throat.
Across the hall, three generations of the West Courtyard—Madam Wei, Silang’s wife, and their kin—glared at Du Jingyi, their expressions sour.
In the past, Madam Wei might have donned her mask of gentility. But since the Fifth branch’s debacle, she no longer bothered with pretense. She allowed her disdain to show, her voice cold.
“Sixth Brother’s wife, you are still young. Do not speak so arrogantly. Fourth Brother’s wife entered this family before you, and she has borne children for the Duke’s line. It is unseemly for you to embarrass her with a few careless words.”
Du Jingyi calmly set down her teacup and replied with a smile as crisp as jade.
“Ah, so I overstepped. I had assumed Madam Wei would not fault Fourth Sister-in-law for mocking Eldest Sister-in-law so openly. I thought this family allowed such ‘jests.’”
Turning her eyes deliberately toward Silang’s wife, Du Jingyi added, her gaze bright with provocation:
“Since the fault is mine, I shall apologize to Fourth Sister-in-law. But as for Eldest Sister-in-law… should not Fourth Sister-in-law also say something?”
Her words pressed like a blade to the throat.
Silang’s wife’s anger surged, her hands trembling with the desire to strike Du Jingyi. But she dared not. Her husband held a general’s post, his rank higher than hers. However much she raged, she had to endure.
Grinding her teeth, she rose and gave Madam Liu a stiff bow.
“I spoke too rashly and caused you displeasure, Eldest Sister-in-law. It was my fault. I beg you not to take offense.”
Madam Liu and Xueniang exhaled in relief. For years, living confined within East Courtyard, they had borne insult and grievance daily. Today, for the first time, they felt vindicated—with Du Jingyi standing at their side.
Their eyes turned toward her, filled with gratitude and newfound hope.
Madam Wei saw this as well, and cold laughter stirred in her heart.
So, she flaunts herself today, relying on her husband’s favor? Let her enjoy it for now. Soon enough, someone will put her in her place.
The corners of her lips lifted faintly, her earlier displeasure swept away by schemes yet unspoken.