Gu Yuande’s questioning was exactly what Xiao Hongshuang had anticipated. Her hands never stopped moving; after placing the prepared incense into the burner, she finally spoke: “Is that how you see me?”
“Yes, these past years you’ve spoiled her, and I’ve felt uneasy. But I would never go so far as to harm her child. What status do I hold, that I should stoop to quarrel with a concubine?”
With that, Xiao Hongshuang rose gracefully, her figure on full display. “If you don’t trust me, so be it. Now that your wife’s son has returned, your family is reunited. And me? What am I but a widow—trouble always gathers at a widow’s door. You’d best keep your distance.” As she spoke, she moved closer, tugging at Gu Yuande as if to push him away.
But Gu Yuande refused to budge. Smiling, he pulled away the gauzy veil from her shoulders, then drew her onto his lap.
“I was only asking—why so quick to anger? She’s just a concubine, nothing more than a plaything. Your jealousy of her is beneath you. And as for your talk of the lady’s son—have I ever cared for them? Haven’t I stayed by you and your child all these years?”
Xiao Hongshuang gave a soft, indignant hum and tried to rise. “You wrong me, and I’m not allowed to be upset? If not for you, would I ever have married him? If you had even a shred of conscience, you wouldn’t question me like this.”
Her pale fingers tapped against his chest as she spoke. The subtle twist of her body, mingled with the faint fragrance from the incense burner, tightened Gu Yuande’s breath. He held her close, bent down to kiss her, lingering long at her neck.
The jade-green embroidered undergarment slipped soundlessly to the floor. From the table, they moved to the bed.
“I haven’t asked you yet—what’s going on between Jin’er and Prince Cheng?” Gu Yuande panted, kissing her as he spoke.
Xiao Hongshuang’s hand rested at his waist. She answered: “What else? His Highness fancies her. The talk of betrothing her to Miss Zhao is nothing but a ploy to win over the Xiao clan of Liaodong. But you—word is you agreed today to let Miss Zhao be the principal wife, and our Jin’er only the secondary consort. Heartless man, you never side with us.”
Gu Yuande pinched her lightly. “You don’t understand. Jin’er is with child—she cannot be made the principal wife. My agreeing to Zhao as the main consort is precisely for Jin’er’s sake. Think about it: if another woman entered that household, what kind of life would Jin’er have? But if Zhao is the principal wife, would she dare mistreat Jin’er?”
Just as his words fell, a sharp noise rang out behind them.
Gu Yuande immediately rose, went to the back window, and pushed it open. Outside, a stray cat darted past the bushes. He exhaled in relief, shut the window, and returned to the bed.
In the small garden by the West Courtyard, Gu Qingzhao and Chunlan hurried back.
Chunlan glanced around, only daring to speak when she saw no one nearby. “Miss, you… you already knew?”
“How… how could that be possible?”
“Thank goodness we ran fast. If His Lordship had caught us, he would have silenced us for sure.”
“I still can’t believe it. The Duke… with… the Third Madam…”
Usually so quiet, Chunlan was shaken to the core, her words tumbling out incoherently.
Seeing her look as though she had seen a ghost, Gu Qingzhao couldn’t help but laugh softly. “Seeing is believing. You saw it with your own eyes—how could it be false? Things like this are common in the capital.”
“These noble households look strict, bound by propriety. But inside… they’re filthier than the brothels.”
In her past life as a princess consort, she had cultivated ties with the wives of court officials. She had learned plenty of their sordid secrets.
Chunlan’s mind spun, unable to grasp what her mistress meant by “filthier.” What she had seen today was already scandalous enough—could there be worse? An elder brother with his sister-in-law… if word spread, the Gu family would lose every shred of face.
Back at Xiyun Pavilion, Gu Qingzhao leaned against the small couch, hugging a soft pillow as her thoughts raced ahead. Only two days since her rebirth, and already she felt exhausted—yet strangely exhilarated.
“Miss, here’s some hot milk. It’s too late for tea.” Cuiliu brought in a cup, her tone gentle. These past two days, she had been especially cautious, saying nothing unnecessary.
But Gu Qingzhao knew—this girl was a snake lurking in the dark. She kept her close, waiting for the moment that snake would strike back.
After finishing the milk, Gu Qingzhao ordered, “Bring me another cup. And tell the kitchen to prepare chicken wonton soup.” She hadn’t eaten properly earlier—halfway through dinner, Concubine Wan had miscarried, and the meal was interrupted. Only after another bowl of wontons and two side dishes did she finally lie down.
That night, Chunlan kept watch. Mistress and maid both tossed and turned, unable to sleep.
The image of Gu Yuande and Xiao Hongshuang haunted Chunlan’s mind. Gu Qingzhao, meanwhile, was restless with plans—too many matters to think through since her rebirth. Not until the watchman’s clapper sounded outside, announcing the fifth watch, did she finally close her eyes in weariness.
On the low stool by the corridor, the night-duty matron nodded off, her head drooping again and again.
A night bird, startled by something unseen, fluttered across the dark sky. The old maid stirred at the sound but did not wake. The night was heavy with dew; she pulled her coarse blue robe tighter around herself and drifted back into sleep.
At dawn, Gu Qingzhao rose and went to the main courtyard to share breakfast with her mother and younger brother, then paid her respects to the Old Madam. Afterward, she returned to the main courtyard, where the three of them lingered together. Gu Qingzhao watched her brother play with a Luban lock while chatting with her mother.
Gu Yuande’s belongings had already been moved out, and his people withdrawn. Now, inside and out, the main courtyard was staffed only by those whom Xiao Tingyun trusted.
From the small kitchen, smoke curled upward as the maids prepared the two young masters’ favorite pastries.
Gu Qingzhao felt a rare sense of peace, reminiscent of the New Year she once spent at Prince Liao’s residence.
Wanshuang brought in a plate of steaming mung bean rolls. “Miss, you’ve always loved these. Quick, taste them while they’re hot.”
Gu Qingzhao didn’t mind the heat; she picked one up and took a bite. Soft, sweet, and fragrant—it melted in her mouth. She had not finished the roll when a little maid came in to report: messengers from the palace had arrived, summoning the Third and Fourth Misses to the front courtyard to receive an imperial decree.
Gu Qingzhao quickly swallowed, lifted her teacup for a sip, then turned to Xiao Tingyun. “An edict? So soon!”
Xiao Tingyun ordered attendants to help her change; she intended to accompany her daughter. On the way, she asked again, “Have you truly decided? Do you really want to marry into the Song family? If you don’t, there’s still room to turn back.”
Gu Qingzhao knew her mother’s concern and reassured her gently.
“Mother, I’ve thought it through. I will marry into the Song family.” For her, no match could be better.
When mother and daughter reached the outer courtyard, the steward had already prepared the incense table and kneeling cushions.
Moments later, Gu Qingjin and Xiao Hongshuang arrived. All knelt to receive the decree.
The first edict was for Gu Qingzhao: her betrothal to Prince Cheng was annulled, and she was granted in marriage to Song Chu.
The second edict was for Gu Qingjin.
As the eunuch finished reading, Gu Qingjin cried out in shock: “This is impossible!”