Seeing Wei Jialian’s provocative smile, Du Jingyi immediately frowned, her expression sharp.
“Who are you? How dare you laugh at me?”
The words, laced with the cunning of a young lady, were clearly meant to embarrass Du Jingyi.
Madam Xing’s gaze turned icy, ready to intervene, but Du Jingyi subtly signaled that she could handle it herself. Madam Xing seeing her ease than restrained herself, choosing instead to observe quietly, as her curiosity piqued.
Du Jingyi stepped forward, placing herself in front of Wei Jialian. Though slightly shorter, her poise and composure gave her a commanding presence. Smiling lightly, she introduced herself:
“I am the wife of Liu Lang of this family.”
Liu Lang’s wife? That meant she was Shang Ji’s fourth wife.
Realization dawned on Wei Jialian, and she murmured,
“So, you are from the Du family—Shang Ji’s fourth wife?”
“Yes,” Du Jingyi replied calmly.
Wei Jialian hesitated, then continued, her tone dripping with thinly veiled malice,
“You’ve been married to the Duke’s Mansion for three years now, right? How is it that you still… look so well?”
The subtle insult was apparent: the first three wives of Shang Ji were dead, yet Du Jingyi thrived till now .
Du Jingyi, however, remained composed.
“I had been feeling unwell, but thanks to the Empress’s counsel, I took proper care to ensure I could accompany the General to the palace for an audience. I am much better now.”
Wei Jialian, stung by the mention of the Empress, forced a polite smile. She realized that invoking the Empress’s authority left her little room to retaliate. She had originally come to embarrass Xueniang, but the presence of two formidable women—Madam Xing and Du Jingyi—dissuaded her from causing a scene.
Suppressing her anger, she cast a final, cold glance at the four and withdrew, leaving like a defeated katydid.
Madam Xing, observing the retreat, spoke with restrained disdain,
“Unruly girl… she truly is a daughter of the Wei family.”
She turned to Du Jingyi, her eyes now holding a trace of admiration,
“You have quite a sharp edge.”
“My aunt is no less,” Du Jingyi replied with a smile.
“Hahaha, indeed. It is better to have a strong voice, so you do not suffer in silence. Our Gu family does not tolerate nonsense,” Madam Xing said. Her words, while directed at Du Jingyi, also served as guidance to eldest sister-in-law Liu and Xueniang, reminding them of the value of assertiveness even within rigid societal hierarchies.
Both women understood the lesson but lacked either the confidence or skill to respond without impropriety, so they swallowed their frustration quietly. Madam Xing noted this and felt a mixture of regret and admiration.
Just then, a voice rang from the hall entrance:
“Princess Yuehua has arrived, Consort Fu has arrived.”
Everyone immediately stood and moved toward the entrance. Those walking outside also gathered. Princess Yuehua, a member of the royal family, required formal respect; the household women knelt accordingly, voices harmonizing:
“Your servants greet Princess Yuehua and Consort Fu.”
Two elegant figures appeared along the bluestone path, framed by pine and cypress trees. One was tall and majestic, radiating grace and authority; the other, slightly younger, bore a refined beauty reminiscent of Madam Wei. Several attendants followed them in a quiet manner, bowing with impeccable etiquette.
Du Jingy with there arrival felt the subtle weight of royal presence. Though the attention was not directed at her, an oppressive sense of formality washed over her.
Than a calm yet sharp voice rang out:
“Please rise. Today is the Duke family’s banquet—no formalities are necessary.”
“Thank you, Princess.”
Led by Madam Wei, all stood, faces bright with respect and pride. The honor of hosting members of the royal family at a birthday celebration was immense even among the capital which is cluttered with noble families.
Du Jingyi observed unobtrusively. While Princess Yuehua’s regal demeanor was imposing, her attention was drawn to Consort Fu—Madam Wei’s daughter, whom she had not seen since marrying into the Duke’s Mansion. Rarely returning home and with the close ties between Dongyuan and Madam Wei, she had limited opportunity to see her family. Now, curiosity drew her gaze.
The two princesses stood out among the gathering ladies. Princess Yuehua, in the center, wore a long, ornate gown embroidered with peonies [symbolizing nobility and wealth], her aura commanding, the mark of the emperor’s only legitimate sister. Beside her, Consort Fu wore a purple robe embroidered with white moonflowers [a symbol of elegance and purity], her hair accessories matching the dress. Though her attire was less lavish, it conveyed refined nobility.
Sensing Du Jingyi’s watchful eyes, Consort Fu cast a brief, measured glance, likely deducing Du Jingyi’s identity from those around her. Then she looked away, as if oblivious, leading Princess Yuehua into the hall to converse with Madam Wei.
Du Jingyi noted the subtle challenge in Consort Fu’s eyes—a formidable presence, perhaps even more commanding than Madam Wei herself.
Elder sister-in-law Liu, impatient, whispered:
“Let us return to the East Garden. It is tedious to linger here. A cup of tea and some conversation among ourselves would be far more pleasant.”
She sought to avoid bowing and paying respects, her current discomfort with Madam Wei’s status and the social hierarchy only growing. Even against convention, she preferred the comfort of the East Garden to formal obligation.