The surroundings were silent, and Song Langyu's voice was steady:
"Cousin, do you know what Miaoshan meant by her words?"
"How would I know what she meant?" Wen Jiao shook her head without hesitation and asked innocently, "Was her mind damaged by the poison, is that why she's talking nonsense?"
Miaoshan had indeed been rambling incoherently and contradicting herself, so it was highly likely that the poison had affected her sanity.
Song Langyu turned and walked along the path, urging her indifferently: "Aren't you going for a spring outing? Let's go."
Wen Jiao let out a surprised "Eh?" and quickly followed, asking with a delighted expression: "Isn't Eldest Cousin going back to the office to interrogate Miaoshan?"
"No rush."
Song Langyu wore a brocade robe with dark patterns and silver trim, standing tall and elegant like a jade tree in the wind. Though his brows and eyes were cold and distant, young ladies frequently tossed flowers at him to show their affection, yet he kept his gaze straight ahead, letting those blossoms full of youthful spring feelings fall to the ground.
"Here, let me put this flower in your hair!" Song Xiangyu plucked a tender yellow winter jasmine and tucked it into Wen Jiao's hair.
Despite her inner worries, Wen Jiao still had to appear carefree. She also picked a pale pink magnolia flower and placed it in Song Xiangyu's hair, praising: "Cousin, you look so beautiful!"
Of the three, two were burdened with troubled thoughts, and only Song Xiangyu was carefree and lighthearted. One moment she dragged Wen Jiao to go boating, the next she dragged her to climb the mountain, while Song Langyu silently followed behind the two.
Wen Jiao guessed that he probably hadn't slept all night and must be exhausted by now, yet she took mischievous delight in tormenting him. After climbing the mountain, she said she wanted to see the peach blossoms at the back hill, so they headed there.
After viewing the peach blossoms, the three had to turn back. Song Xiangyu was panting from exhaustion and complained: "Jiao Jiao, the peach blossoms have already withered—they're not pretty at all. We… we suffered all this effort for nothing."
Wen Jiao wasn't much better off either, supporting herself on the railing and stubbornly insisting: "Though some of the peach blossoms have fallen, there's a different kind of charm to it."
Song Langyu's footsteps were also noticeably heavier, but he listened to their exchange without saying a word.
Kill a thousand enemies and lose eight hundred of your own—still netting two hundred, isn't it? Wen Jiao felt a bit of satisfaction in her heart!
When the three finally neared the mountaintop, they saw a pavilion on the ridge where several maidservants surrounded a richly dressed young lady. Song Xiangyu recognized her as Grand Princess Ningle's daughter, named Liu Jia.
Half of her blood flowed from the Grand Princess, and half from a foreign tribe. After returning to the capital with the Grand Princess, she had no sense of restraint or modesty—she was extremely arrogant and domineering, not even putting county princesses in her eyes. Song Xiangyu usually avoided her at all costs, and now that they were meeting on a narrow path, she felt the urge to retreat.
"Keep walking." Song Langyu said in a low voice.
This stone staircase had no branching paths, and the people in the pavilion had already seen them. If they left now, it would only give them something to criticize.
Wen Jiao linked her arm through Song Xiangyu's and said with a smile to reassure her: "Cousin, just keep walking. If anything happens, Eldest Cousin will protect us."
But when they reached the mountaintop and entered the pavilion, the three discovered that behind Liu Jia sat a woman—under forty years old, elegant and noble, with fair skin and slightly upturned eyes. She looked at Song Langyu with a faint, ambiguous smile.
"Vice Minister Song is in good spirits. The case at Qiedu Temple hasn't been solved, yet you still have leisure to go on a spring outing?"
Before her words even faded, a whip shadow suddenly lashed out, aimed directly at Song Xiangyu's face! Wen Jiao instinctively reached out to block, and the tip of the whip struck her forearm!
It hurt!
Wen Jiao drew in a sharp breath. Song Xiangyu was frozen in shock, then quickly steadied her and asked urgently: "Where did it hit you?"
The sleeve had already been torn open, revealing an arm as fair as white jade, with a bloody whip wound that was shocking and dreadful.
Had that whip struck Song Xiangyu's face, it would have either disfigured her or blinded her—the consequences would have been unimaginable.
"Jia'er, don't be naughty." The Grand Princess scolded lightly.
Liu Jia gave a cold snort and tried to retract her whip, but Song Langyu gripped it tightly and gave it a sharp tug. Liu Jia cried out in pain as the whip slipped from her hand, leaving a gash across her palm.
"How dare you!" Liu Jia flew into a rage, pointing at the servants beside her and shouting, "Take my whip back!"
"Who dares!" Song Langyu's temple twitched, fury churning in his eyes. He turned his head toward Grand Princess Ningle, his voice icy cold. "Under the emperor's very feet, the law is strict and clear. To strike a court official without cause and injure an official's family member—if Your Highness indulges this without reason, I will go before His Majesty and plead my case, asking him to render justice!"
The Grand Princess rose, leaning on her maidservant, and took Liu Jia's wrist, coaxing her in a gentle voice: "I've always said your whip skills are lacking and you need to practice more. Today the whip went astray. Fortunately, it only injured a maidservant and not Lord Song or Lady Song—otherwise, the offense would have been grave indeed."
"Jiao Jiao is not a maidservant; she is my cousin…" Song Xiangyu, though not bold by nature, argued with reddened eyes.
But the Grand Princess seemed not to hear her, smiling as she urged Liu Jia: "Quickly offer your apologies to Lord Song and Lady Song, and this matter will be settled."
Liu Jia was reluctant at first, but when the Grand Princess squeezed her wrist, she yielded, and though disdainful, she grudgingly bowed to Song Langyu.
The Grand Princess patted her cheek, saying affectionately: "There, that's a sensible girl."
Then she turned to Song Langyu and asked: "Jia'er has already apologized. Is Vice Minister Song satisfied?"
Song Langyu's thin lips pressed tightly together, his phoenix eyes sharp: "It was my cousin who was injured."
The Grand Princess let out a dismissive laugh, slowly twisting the gold ring on her finger as she walked toward Wen Jiao. She raised her chin slightly, her expression haughty, as if looking at an ant.
Wen Jiao's shoulders trembled; she did not dare meet her gaze at all.
The Grand Princess slipped the gold ring from her finger and threw it heavily at Wen Jiao's face, then sneered at Song Langyu: "She's nothing but a servant—what is she worth?"
Song Xiangyu was stunned senseless, stammering: "You… you…"
Song Langyu was about to lose his temper when Wen Jiao bent down and picked up the gold ring, looking frightened and flustered.
"Jiao Jiao's status is humble indeed; I truly am unworthy of Miss Liu's apology." She walked toward Song Langyu, took the whip from his hand, touched it, and said meekly, "I'd best return this whip to Miss Liu."
"My surname isn't Liu!" Liu Jia retorted.
Wen Jiao's eyes were full of apology as she asked in a trembling voice: "May I ask what the young lady's surname is?"
"Ashide!"
Wen Jiao let out a soft "Oh," as if somewhat bewildered, then seemed to understand, murmuring under her breath: "Ashide doesn't seem to be a surname of our dynasty…"
Marrying off to a foreign tribe was the Grand Princess's lifelong shame, and Wen Jiao's words had stirred up all her viciousness. The corners of her mouth twitched slightly, and she could no longer force a smile.
The young girl bowed respectfully to the two of them, revealing two deep dimples on her face. Ignoring Song Xiangyu's attempts to stop her, she walked toward Liu Jia with the whip held in both hands. When she drew near, she bent her knees in another bow and presented the whip with both hands, her posture respectful and humble: "Miss Ashide, here is your whip."
The three words "Miss Ashide" were piercing to the ears! Utterly humiliating!
The Grand Princess's face contorted as she glared at Wen Jiao, who seemed utterly oblivious and responded with a sweet, radiant smile.
"Leave." The words were practically ground out between clenched teeth as the Grand Princess spat them out before storming off the pavilion.
Song Xiangyu hurried forward to support Wen Jiao, lowering her voice: "Why did you willingly hand the whip back to her? You should have made her apologize…"
Wen Jiao's forearm burned with searing pain, the surrounding flesh feeling as though it were on fire. Yet she watched the party descending the mountain, a subtle smile tugging at the corners of her lips: "What use is an apology? The places that hurt will still hurt."
What mattered was making those who hurt her feel the same pain.
"Let's return to the manor first." Song Langyu's brows were tightly knit as he extended his arm, speaking slowly, "Hold onto me, walk slowly."
Wen Jiao didn't refuse. Her uninjured hand rested lightly on his arm while her other arm hung limp.
The sky had grown dim. Wen Jiao's foot slipped, and she began to topple forward. Song Langyu reacted swiftly, flipping his palm to grasp her hand and pull her back.
Wen Jiao's wrist was slender, easily enveloped by Song Langyu's large palm. The touch was cool and smooth, and he lost his composure for a brief moment before quickly releasing his grip.
Pale from pain, Wen Jiao's face was beaded with fine sweat, and there was still a long way down the mountain.
Had the tip of that whip not been blocked by Wen Jiao, it would have struck Song Xiangyu's face. Though she was not particularly refined or demure, she possessed a measure of chivalrous courage, and this injury was suffered for his sister's sake…
Song Langyu bent down before her and said, "Come, I'll carry you down the mountain."
A man carrying a woman on his back—this was an extremely intimate gesture, with her chest pressed against his back. Wen Jiao loathed such intimacy, but after a moment's hesitation, she lay herself over Song Langyu's back—
If she could use this opportunity to grow closer to Song Langyu, it would be more convenient to visit the Calamus Courtyard in the future.
As for the disgust in her heart, she would simply have to endure it.
The mountain path was bumpy. The girl's soft chest pressed against Song Langyu's spine, a faint honeyed fragrance wafting around him, stirring chaotic, lustful thoughts.
Upon returning to the Duke's Manor, the Glass Pavilion was thrown into chaos—people fetching physicians, boiling hot water, changing clothes. When Song Xiangyu saw the whip wound on Wen Jiao's forearm, she wept: "Does it hurt? How could you block it with your hand!"
Wen Jiao was in such agony at that moment that she buried her face in the soft pillow, unable to speak at all.
Madam Wu rushed over upon hearing the news. When she saw the wound on Wen Jiao's arm, she was both furious and anxious, glaring at Song Langyu as she demanded: "You were right there with her—how could you let Jiao Jiao get hurt like this?"
Before he could speak, Song Xiangyu had already poured out the day's events in one breath.
Madam Wu burned with rage upon hearing this, slamming the table hard: "Striking someone with a whip for no reason—is there no law anymore! I'll go reason with them!"
Song Langyu grabbed Madam Wu's arm, advising in a low, steady voice: "What use would it be for Mother to go argue? Grand Princess Ningle came deliberately to intimidate us. Don't fall into her trap, Mother."
Madam Wu shook off Song Langyu's hand, fuming: "So we just let them bully us?"
"Mother, please calm down," Song Langyu said, guiding Madam Wu to sit down, his voice cool and composed. "Your son will report today's events to Censor Han and ask him to impeach the Grand Princess for allowing her daughter to harm others."
Censor Han was a man of unyielding integrity. He had previously impeached the Grand Princess for forming factions, though the Emperor had suppressed the matter.
Hearing this, Madam Wu's anger subsided somewhat. She stroked Wen Jiao's head with tender concern and said softly: "Child, you took this whip for Xiangyu's sake. You've suffered."
She also urged the imperial physician to use the finest medicines and to be extremely careful.
The imperial physician examined the wound, applied medication, and said nervously to Madam Wu, "The young lady's whip wound is quite deep; I'm afraid it may leave a scar.""
"How can that be? She's a young girl who cares most about her appearance—how can she have a scar on her arm?" Madam Wu grew anxious, and thinking that if Wen Jiao hadn't blocked the blow, Song Xiangyu would have been disfigured, her gratitude toward Wen Jiao deepened. Setting aside formalities, she had someone take the Duke Zhenguo's plaque to summon an imperial physician.
There was actually a more discreet approach—bypassing the Imperial Medical Institute and going directly to the physician's residence to quietly bring him over—but making a public fuss was better for the situation, so Song Langyu did not stop it.
The imperial physician arrived quickly, examined the wound, and said thoughtfully, "Whether a scar will remain, I cannot say for certain at this moment. Apply the medicine and see how it goes. If a scar does form later, I will prepare a scar-removing ointment. There is always a way."
Only then did Madam Wu feel at ease.
After the wound was treated, the night had grown deep, and Wen Jiao had fallen asleep. Madam Wu instructed the maids and servants at the Liuli Pavilion to attend to her well before leaving with her son and daughter.
On the way back, Song Xiangyu began to cry again: "This time, it's all thanks to Jiaojiao protecting me. Otherwise, I would have been the one hurt—and such a long wound, how painful it must be…"
Madam Wu squeezed her hand and comforted her, "In the future, treat her well, as if she were your own younger sister."
She then said to Song Langyu, "You said earlier that her origins were unclear. Aren't you eating your words now?"
Song Langyu was silent for a moment, then said, "I misjudged her."
The next day at court, Censor Han impeached the Grand Princess for allowing her daughter to harm others. This time, Emperor Changping did not shield her, but he also did not punish the Grand Princess. He merely issued an edict reprimanding Liu Jia and sent palace etiquette matrons to teach her proper conduct. If she could not learn these manners, she was not permitted to leave the residence.
In fact, Liu Jia could not leave the residence anyway—her face was ruined.
On the way back to the city that day, Liu Jia's palms had begun to itch, and then her body and face started itching as well, as if ants were crawling all over her. She scratched like a madwoman, leaving red marks across her body. When she finally returned to the Princess residence, the scratched areas began to fester.
After the imperial physicians examined her, they could not determine the cause. She took decoctions to purge toxins and reduce heat, and applied ointments, but the itching did not lessen in the slightest—it only grew worse. The scratched areas on Liu Jia's body began to swell, redden, and ooze pus.
One physician after another came, but none could find the cause.
Though Liu Jia was willful, she was bright and beautiful. Yet in a single night, her appearance was utterly destroyed.
Song Xiangyu vividly recounted the news she had heard to Wen Jiao, a glint of schadenfreude in her eyes: "Heaven truly has eyes! She wanted to ruin someone else's face, and now she's the one disfigured!"
Wen Jiao propped her elbow on the table to avoid touching the wound on her forearm, pinching a candied cherry with her other hand, and echoed, "Indeed, evil is repaid with evil!"
Heaven had eyes? Naturally not.
The whip had been coated with lacquer tree sap by Wen Jiao. Many people, upon skin contact with lacquer tree sap, would break out in itching and sores. Wen Jiao was one of the rare people who had no reaction to it.
A few days earlier, she had managed to steal the key and open the book cabinet, but it was empty. After returning to the Liuli Pavilion, she had cried in frustration, and in the days that followed, her resentment had only grown heavier. That lacquer tree sap had originally been prepared for Song Langyu, as a way to vent her anger.
Unexpectedly, Grand Princess and Liu Jia made their move, and Wen Jiao used that liquid on Liu Jia. It was also due to Liu Jia's special constitution that her reaction was so severe.
Wen Jiao felt no guilt. The sweetness of the cherry syrup melted on her tongue, and she only felt satisfaction.
As the two were speaking, a maidservant's voice suddenly sounded from outside the door: "Miss, the Young Master is here."
Wen Jiao quickly invited him in and stood up to greet him. Song Langyu entered and said gently, "You're injured. Please sit."
"Has Eldest Brother heard about Liu Jia's matter?" Song Xiangyu asked.
Song Langyu nodded and said, "You may speak of this privately, but you must not gloat in front of others."
Song Xiangyu stuck out her tongue and muttered, "It's not like I'm the only one talking about it."
Song Langyu did not rebuke her harshly and said, "I ran into Nanny Zhou in the small garden just now. She was looking for you."
"Oh no! Today the flower house is buying a batch of fruit trees, and I wanted to pick an apricot tree to plant in my own courtyard. How could I have forgotten!" Song Xiangyu rose and left, but after only a few steps she turned back, gripping the doorframe as she asked Wen Jiao, "Are you planting apricot or peach trees in your courtyard?"
Wen Jiao shook her head, and Song Xiangyu hurried off again.
Because of her injured arm, Wen Jiao wore a high-collared wide-sleeved silk robe, with a sky-water-green butterfly-among-flowers half-sleeve jacket over it, and a turtle-back patterned floral crepe pleated skirt below. Her hair was loosely gathered into a simple bun, and her face bore no powder or makeup, yet her skin remained as smooth as snow and white as sugar frosting—quite different from her usual appearance.
Song Langyu was momentarily stunned, then returned to his usual composure.
"I interrogated Miaoshan today."
Wen Jiao's fingers stiffened slightly. She took a sip of tea before raising her head to look at Song Langyu, her eyes full of curiosity, and asked in a sweet voice, "Did she confess? Was it truly Grand Princess who instigated it?"
Song Langyu stared fixedly at Wen Jiao, trying to find a trace of nervousness on her face.
But her performance was flawless—only curiosity, no panic.
"Miaoshan confessed that twenty years ago she received funding to build Queguan Temple outside the city, to help women of low status marry into noble families and to gather intelligence from the court."
"Twenty years? Who could scheme for that long?" Wen Jiao said in surprise.
Song Langyu's gaze remained fixed on Wen Jiao's face as he spoke unhurriedly: "Miaoshan said that on that day in the secret chamber, you were affected by the incense but woke earlier than the others."
"I took the awakening medicine in advance!" Wen Jiao admitted without hesitation. She eagerly opened the drawer of the kang table and returned holding a porcelain bottle in both hands. "These pills have the effect of clearing the mind and refreshing the senses. Before going to Changle Lane that day, I took this medicine in advance!"
Song Langyu took the porcelain bottle, opened it, and smelled it. He felt his mind instantly become clear.
Wen Jiao was indeed candid.
The two were now extremely close, and Song Langyu could clearly see Wen Jiao's slender eyelashes. He spoke: "Miaoshan said you once burned someone to death."