Madam Xing’s brows lifted in surprise, yet when Du Jingyi smiled and confessed softly, there was no hesitation in her tone.
“It’s been two months,” she said.
“Two months?” Madam Xing repeated, her voice rising a pitch in astonishment. Then, glancing at her nephew, she clicked her tongue twice and chuckled with amusement.
“You… truly carry the bold spirit of the Gu family.”
The men of the Gu family had always been famed for their vigor — not only for their military prowess but also for their extraordinary virility. Madam Gu herself had once borne four sons and one daughter, and in her later years, she gained nine more grandsons and one granddaughter. Had tragedy not struck years ago, with many of those sons fallen on the battlefield, the Gu lineage might now have flourished into more than twenty great-grandchildren.
At the thought, a shadow of sorrow flickered in Madam Xing’s eyes, but it quickly vanished, replaced by quiet relief. After all these years of waiting, she finally had joyous news to bring back to the family.
“No wonder,” she exclaimed cheerfully, “I heard magpies calling on my way out today. It turns out they were announcing such auspicious news! What a good fortune indeed!”
Du Jingyi could not help laughing softly. “In such cold weather, Aunt can still hear magpies call? That’s truly remarkable.”
Before she could finish, Shang Ji — seated beside her — echoed her unspoken thought with a hint of teasing. “Yes, Aunt’s hearing is truly extraordinary.”
Madam Xing rolled her eyes at him, the corners of her lips twitching. “I said I heard them, so I heard them. What? Do you doubt your aunt’s ears now?”
“I wouldn’t dare,” Shang Ji replied with mock solemnity. “Whatever Aunt says, I’ll take it as the imperial decree itself.”
The sight of the usually stern General speaking so meekly before Madam Xing drew laughter all around.
When her hands had finally warmed, Madam Xing walked closer and took a careful look at Du Jingyi. Her eyes softened with emotion.
“All these years,” she began, “I’ll be honest — I’ve been worried about this very matter. When you two were stationed in Cezhou, I feared something might happen to Liu Lang (Shang Ji’s courtesy name). If it had, that would’ve truly been the end of the Gu bloodline. The old madam never voiced her fears, but I could tell she carried that weight day and night.”
Now that she saw Du Jingyi safely pregnant, the tightness in her chest finally eased. “This is wonderful. Regardless of whether it’s a boy or a girl, at least Liu Lang will have a child of his own. I’ll have someone inform the old madam as soon as I return — she’ll surely rush to Jinling City upon hearing the news!”
Shang Ji nodded in agreement, but his expression remained composed. Concern flickered in his eyes. “Allow me to handle that, Aunt. It’s safer if the message is sent through my men.”
Madam Xing blinked, realizing something then. “So you’ve all been pretending to be ill these days… to avoid that woman, Madam Wei?”
Du Jingyi smiled lightly. “Aunt is indeed perceptive. We’ll be moving soon, and the less disturbance we cause, the better.”
At the mention of Madam Wei, Madam Xing’s expression turned sharp with disdain. Despite her own noble rank, she had never been one to soften her words.
“What’s there to fear? If that scheming woman dares to act shamelessly again, I’ll teach her a lesson myself!”
Madam Xing was a true daughter of the Gu family — straightforward, bold, and entirely unafraid of confrontation. In her view, the reason her cousin (the late Duchess) had met such a tragic end was precisely because she had endured too much in silence.
Du Jingyi’s fondness for Madam Xing grew with each word. But she was not someone easily bullied either. Calmly, she explained, “Please rest assured, Aunt. The rumor about the East Courtyard’s illness was deliberately spread by me — to unsettle Madam Wei and loosen her hold over Father-in-law. She’s been scheming to control us through him and to prevent our departure from the Duke’s Mansion.”
Madam Xing arched a brow. “So she plans to poison her husband next?”
Before Du Jingyi could answer, Shang Ji’s low, icy voice cut in. “Not poison — assassination. She’s arranged for assassins to strike Father on his return from court tomorrow.”
Madam Xing, who had witnessed her share of court intrigue, still froze at his words, stunned speechless. “Heavens! Has that woman gone mad? She schemes day and night to win her husband’s favor — and now she wants him dead just to hold you two back?”
Shang Ji’s tone darkened. “My investigation leaves no doubt. Everything is set in motion — and all that remains is to catch her in the act.”
Du Jingyi’s gaze was calm, almost pitying. “She may not truly care for Father-in-law. Their relationship is one of mutual benefit — he covets her charm, and she admires his rank and power. Perhaps there was genuine affection in the beginning, but after years of shared ambitions and hidden resentments, they now share only the same bed, not the same dreams.”
Madam Xing snorted angrily. “Absurd! If the late Duke were still alive to see this disgraceful chaos among his descendants, he’d rise from his grave in fury!”
Silence settled briefly after her outburst. Shang Ji lowered his gaze, his expression solemn. He had not spent long with his grandfather, but his maternal grandfather had often spoken of the old Duke’s valor and honor. In his heart, that man was still a towering figure — a hero whose legacy now seemed dimmed by the shame of his successors.
Perhaps it was true — the ancestral incense of the Shang family burned brightest only for the old Duke, while the following generations, one after another, met untimely ends.
Madam Xing, her temper finally cooled, took several gulps of tea before speaking again. “So, what are you planning to do now? Will you stop the assassination?”
Du Jingyi smiled faintly and shook her head. “The General will ensure Father-in-law’s safety, of course. But I’ve also arranged a little… spectacle for Madam Wei and the Fifth Madam. If Aunt is free, you’re most welcome to come watch the show unfold.”
Madam Xing’s eyes gleamed with lively curiosity. “Tomorrow, then? I’ll certainly come — I wouldn’t miss such entertainment for the world.”
A dangerous calm rippled between the three of them. The kind that precedes a storm. They exchanged glances — and silently, the war without swords or gunpowder had begun.
In Yunjin Courtyard, Madam Wei reclined beneath a canopy embroidered with golden peonies. A while ago, she had fallen gravely ill; though she had recovered, she was far from her former elegance. Her once-round, graceful face had grown thin, and her beauty, stripped of pretense, carried a sharp, almost cruel edge.
Unaware that her long-planned assassination had already been discovered by Shang Ji and Du Jingyi, she still plotted in self-assured calm, thinking only of how to handle the affairs in the East Courtyard.
“Is everything arranged?” she asked in a low voice.
“Don’t worry, Madam,” her maid replied obsequiously. “It’s all set. I went through several connections to find this person — skilled and silent. There will be no mistake.”
“Good,” Madam Wei murmured.
The man she called “the Duke” still outranked Shang Ji, and she was not foolish enough to have him killed outright. No — she wanted him injured, not dead. Just enough to weaken the East Courtyard’s influence and tighten her own hold over the household.
She smiled faintly, satisfied with her cruel balance.
But she had no idea that the trap she thought she controlled had already been turned against her.
Meanwhile, in her own quarters, Shang Liuniang (the Sixth Lady of the Duke’s Mansion) sat quietly in thought. Ever since the Fifth Branch had been dealt with, she had sensed a subtle shift in the air.
So when the golden statue incident occurred at Pingliang Temple, she wisely chose not to involve herself. The storm was coming — and she knew better than to stand in its path.