Su Wanqing followed Xiao Cui through the Lu family’s courtyard.
She walked slowly.
Her calm eyes scanned the place: the covered corridors, the carved beams and painted rafters, the artificial hills and flowing water.
Every detail displayed the family’s deep heritage and power.
But beneath this heritage, Su Wanqing also sensed a trace of decay.
The red paint on the corridor pillars was peeling, revealing the bare wood beneath.
Weeds, dry and yellowed, grew in the cracks of the artificial rocks.
The Lu family was like a giant with a glamorous exterior but beginning to rot inside.
“Young Madam,” Xiao Cui whispered, turning slightly and speaking quickly, “The Old Madam is the eldest in the family and the true mother of the Master. She is devoutly Buddhist and usually stays in her own courtyard chanting sutras, rarely involving herself in affairs. Please be very careful. The most favored by the Old Madam is Miss Song from the Song family.”
Su Wanqing did not stop but replied with a faint “Hmm.”
This Xiao Cui was quite clever.
One slap and one ointment had already made her understand who the true master was to rely on.
Soon, a quiet courtyard appeared.
The gate was wide open, revealing several sturdy pines and cypresses inside; the air was filled with faint sandalwood incense, giving a solemn tranquility.
Songhe Hall.
The residence of the Old Madam.
Xiao Cui stopped at the gate and bowed, “Young Madam, please enter alone. I will wait outside.”
Su Wanqing nodded and walked in by herself.
Upon entering the main hall, she immediately felt something was off.
The room was warm and cozy, with incense curling softly in the air.
In the main seat sat an elderly woman with graying hair, dressed in a deep brown silk jacket, eyes closed, twisting a string of Buddhist beads.
Her face was kind and gentle, seeming detached from worldly concerns.
This must be the Lu family’s Old Madam.
Yet on either side of her sat Liu Yuzhen and Song Tingyu.
Liu Yuzhen still wore that warm, friendly fake smile.
Song Tingyu bowed her head obediently, brewing tea for the Old Madam with elegant posture — anyone unaware might think she was the true granddaughter-in-law of the house.
The moment Su Wanqing stepped in, three pairs of eyes simultaneously locked onto her.
The judgment seat was set, just waiting for this “offender.”
“Wanqing is here,” Liu Yuzhen spoke first, greeting warmly, “Come sit down quickly. The Old Madam has mentioned you several times, wanting to meet the new daughter-in-law of the Lu family.”
She deliberately emphasized “new daughter-in-law” in a sharp tone.
Su Wanqing stepped forward and bowed politely to the Old Madam.
“Granddaughter-in-law Su Wanqing pays respects to Grandmother.”
The Old Madam opened her eyes.
Her gaze was not clouded but sharp, as if seeing through people’s hearts.
She appraised Su Wanqing from head to toe, said nothing, only gave a noncommittal “Hmm” through her nose, then closed her eyes again and continued twisting the beads.
This was a silent show of authority.
Su Wanqing didn’t mind and sat down on an embroidered stool brought by a servant.
“Wanqing, don’t mind her. The Old Madam is just like this—accustomed to a simple life, not fond of talking much,” Liu Yuzhen smiled to smooth things over and changed the subject, “You just came from the Northern Border. Are you used to the capital yet? Beijing is different from your countryside, lots of rules—you’ll have to learn slowly.”
“Thank you, Auntie, for your concern. I will study carefully,” Su Wanqing replied flawlessly.
At that moment, Song Tingyu approached, carrying a freshly brewed cup of tea, her figure graceful as she swayed slightly.
“Miss Su, please have some tea.”
She placed the cup in front of Su Wanqing with a proper smile.
“This is Junshan Silver Needle tea I specially found for the Old Madam. It calms the mind and soothes the nerves. You should try some too—it’ll moisten your throat.”
She called her “Miss Su.”
Not “Eldest Sister-in-Law,” nor “Young Madam.”
The formality and distance in address were crystal clear.
Su Wanqing took the teacup.
In the white jade cup, tender yellow tea buds stood upright, floating up and down.
The tea was clear and fragrant.
“Song Tingyu is thoughtful,” Liu Yuzhen praised from the side. “She knows the Old Madam likes tea and even learned tea ceremony. Look at her skills—so fluid and natural, better than those tea masters in the teahouses.”
“Thank you for the compliment, Auntie. I only know the basics and hope to make Grandmother comfortable,” Song Tingyu said humbly, her eyes challenging as she stared at Su Wanqing.
“So, Miss Su, how do you find the tea?”
The first round of confrontation had begun.
They used their proud status and refinement to highlight her “coarseness.”
Su Wanqing didn’t answer immediately.
She brought the cup close to her nose, inhaled gently, then took a small sip.
The tea was mellow and crisp on the palate.
She put down the cup and met Song Tingyu’s superior gaze, speaking calmly:
“The tea is good.”
Song Tingyu’s lips curled.
“Unfortunately,” Su Wanqing’s voice was low but clear to all ears,
“It was ruined by the water.”
Song Tingyu’s smile instantly froze.
Liu Yuzhen’s expression darkened.
Even the Old Madam, who had her eyes closed, paused her bead-twisting.
“What do you mean by that?” Song Tingyu’s tone turned cold. “Do you think I don’t even know how to choose water for tea?”
“The water you chose is certainly good—probably the morning spring water from Yushan Mountain,” Su Wanqing replied evenly.
“However, the water was overheated.”
“Junshan Silver Needle is an unfermented yellow tea with delicate buds. It is most sensitive to boiling water. It needs to be brewed at eighty degrees Celsius to fully release its aroma and flavor. When the water temperature is too high, the tea turns fiery and loses that precious freshness and sweetness. I tasted it just now—the tea had plenty of flavor but lacked vitality. That must be why.”
She spoke clearly and smoothly, each word precise.
Song Tingyu’s face flushed with red and white patches.
She never expected a wild country girl to know this!
And to get every detail exactly right!
She had indeed boiled the water to a rolling boil to show off in front of the Old Madam, chasing a visual “ethereal quality,” but ignored the effect on the tea itself.
“It’s just nonsense,” Liu Yuzhen snorted coldly, trying to regain the upper hand. “Country folk are used to rough tea—they can’t tell good from bad.”
“Auntie is right,” Su Wanqing went along with her, “We country folks don’t understand tea ceremony. We only know that if something is good, it should taste like itself. If you use the wrong water, no matter how good the tea leaves, you won’t get the true flavor.”
She paused and glanced at Song Tingyu.
“Being a person is much the same.”
A double entendre.
A subtle criticism that Song Tingyu’s heart was crooked and she had lost her true nature.
Song Tingyu was so angry her knuckles whitened, yet she couldn’t retort a single word.
“Well said. Being a person means holding onto your true heart.”
The Old Madam, silent until now, suddenly opened her eyes and said this.
Her gaze toward Su Wanqing had a hint of scrutiny.
Liu Yuzhen and Song Tingyu’s faces grew even uglier.
Song Tingyu rolled her eyes, then spotted the blooming red plum outside the window and had an idea.
“The red plums are blooming beautifully this year. Grandmother, inspired by the scene, let me compose a poem to celebrate.”
She stood and walked to the window, then recited:
“Jade branches sparse shadows stand in cold wind, A touch of cinnabar proud among the snow. Fear not no friends lie ahead on the road, For a pure fragrance fills all the world.”
The poem was decent and elegant, praising the plum blossom and subtly expressing her fearless spirit.
“Good, good poem!” Liu Yuzhen applauded immediately. “Tingyu truly is a talented woman.”
Song Tingyu feigned modesty with a smile, then turned her gaze back to Su Wanqing: “Miss Su grew up in the Northern Border and must be used to more magnificent snowy scenes. Would you please also let us broaden our horizons?”
This was the second round of attack.
From tea ceremony to poetry.
They were sure a poor country girl who barely had enough to eat could never know poetry.
Su Wanqing looked at her and smiled.
“Miss Song flatters me. I’m just a rough person, barely literate—I don’t know how to write poems.”
Hearing this, Song Tingyu and Liu Yuzhen showed satisfied expressions of “just as expected.”
“But,” Su Wanqing’s eyes drifted toward the red plums outside, and she said calmly, “Though I can’t write poems, I once heard our village schoolmaster recite one. I think that’s the true plum blossom.”
She paused, then with a clear, penetrating voice recited slowly, word by word:
“The wind and rain send spring away, the flying snow welcomes spring. Already a hundred-foot ice cliff hangs, yet still the flower branches charm.”
Just these four lines changed the entire atmosphere in the room.
Song Tingyu’s self-pity and false aloofness from her poem instantly became childish scribbles, worthless in comparison to the grandeur and lofty spirit of these lines.
Su Wanqing continued:
“Not competing for spring’s glory, it only reports spring’s arrival. When the mountain flowers bloom in profusion, it smiles among the bushes.”
After finishing, the room was silent.
Liu Yuzhen and Song Tingyu were completely stunned.
They never imagined such magnificent, lofty verses could come from Su Wanqing’s mouth.
This poem was about much more than just plums.
It was also a kind of noble character—not competing with all the other flowers in full bloom, but simply announcing the arrival of spring.
In contrast, Song Tingyu’s line “Do not worry about no friends ahead” seemed petty and small-minded.
“What a wonderful line: ‘Not competing for spring’s glory, only reporting spring’s arrival.’”
The Old Madam murmured, repeating the phrase, her gaze toward Su Wanqing completely changed.
Within it was surprise, appreciation, and even a hint of respect that she herself hadn’t realized before.
Just when the atmosphere reached its most delicate moment, the Old Madam suddenly began coughing violently.
She covered her chest with one hand, supported herself on the table with the other, gasping for breath, her entire face flushed a deep red and purple.
“Grandmother! Grandmother, what’s wrong with you?”
“Old Madam!”
Song Tingyu and Liu Yuzhen immediately panicked, fumbling to pat her back and help ease her breathing.
“Hurry! Go call Doctor Zhang!” Liu Yuzhen shouted loudly toward the door.
“Don’t touch her!”
A clear, calm voice cut through the panic.
It was Su Wanqing.
She stepped forward quickly, supporting the Old Madam who was about to collapse, and commanded in a deep voice, “Lay the Old Madam flat, loosen the collar button, keep the air flowing.”
“What do you think you are! Get out! If the Old Madam has any mishap, I’ll skin you alive!” Liu Yuzhen snapped, trying to push her away.
“If you want her to die, keep shouting,” Su Wanqing coldly shot her a glance filled with icy menace, freezing Liu Yuzhen’s hands mid-air.
Ignoring her, Su Wanqing swiftly grasped the Old Madam’s wrist.
Look, listen, ask, and feel the pulse.
In her previous life, she was a top military doctor, skilled in both traditional Chinese and Western medicine.
She immediately saw through the Old Madam’s symptoms.
“Face flushed red, rapid breathing, pulse string-like, forceful,” Su Wanqing diagnosed calmly while analyzing, “It’s not an old illness—it’s liver fire rising, causing breathlessness and attacking the heart.”
She suddenly raised her head, her eyes like lightning, aiming at Song Tingyu.
“What kind of tea did you just give the Old Madam?”
“It’s… it’s Junshan Silver Needle,” Song Tingyu stammered, unnerved under Su Wanqing’s gaze.
“Nonsense!” Su Wanqing snapped, “Junshan Silver Needle is cooling in nature, how could it cause liver fire? What did you add to the tea?”
“I… I didn’t…” Song Tingyu’s eyes began to avoid contact.
“The Old Madam has long practiced Buddhism, eats light food, but has a weak body and cold uterus. Junshan Silver Needle tea is not suitable for her. You, wanting to show off your tea skills, deliberately chose this tea. But afraid of its cold nature causing discomfort, you foolishly added dried ginger slices and red dates to warm it up, didn’t you?”
Song Tingyu’s face instantly turned pale as if she had seen a ghost, staring at Su Wanqing.
How… how could she know?
Only she herself knew this!
“You…” she tried to speak.
“Foolish!” Su Wanqing cut her off without giving a chance to explain. “The Old Madam is indeed weak, but the recent dry weather caused internal heat buildup. Those few pieces of dried ginger and red dates were like pouring fuel on the fire, completely igniting her internal heat! Coupled with her emotional agitation just now, causing blood and qi to surge upward, that’s why it led to this dangerous condition!”
Liu Yuzhen was dumbfounded by Su Wanqing’s words.
She looked at the pale Song Tingyu, then at the Old Madam struggling to breathe, and finally realized that what Su Wanqing said was probably true.
“Then… what do we do now?” Liu Yuzhen panicked completely.
Su Wanqing didn’t answer but shouted to Xiao Cui, who was cowering near the door, “Go get me a sewing needle and a candle holder, quickly!”
Xiao Cui’s legs went weak from the commotion, but hearing Su Wanqing’s command, she scrambled to obey.
Soon, the needle and candle holder were brought.
Su Wanqing heated the sewing needle over the candle flame, supporting the Old Madam’s hand with one hand and holding the needle with the other, she quickly and decisively stabbed the “Zhongchong” acupuncture point at the tip of the Old Madam’s middle finger.
“What are you doing!” Liu Yuzhen screamed.
But Su Wanqing’s movements were lightning fast, not giving her a chance to stop her.
One prick.
A drop of dark purple blood welled up from the needle hole.
Almost simultaneously, the Old Madam’s rapid gasping suddenly stopped, then she exhaled a long, deep breath.
The terrifying purplish-red color on her face visibly faded, and her tense body slowly relaxed.
She opened her eyes, weak but clear.
Just then, family doctor Zhang hurried in, carrying his medical kit and gasping for breath.
He was stunned by the scene before him and quickly examined the Old Madam.
After a while, he looked up, disbelief written all over his face as he looked at Su Wanqing.
“Who is this…? The Old Madam’s condition has stabilized. It was really critical just now. Luckily, someone performed timely bloodletting to release the fire, or the consequences would have been unimaginable. This technique… professional, truly professional!”
Doctor Zhang’s words were like a loud slap, harshly striking the faces of Liu Yuzhen and Song Tingyu.
The truth was out.
It wasn’t Su Wanqing causing trouble.
It was Song Tingyu’s own foolishness that nearly endangered the Old Madam’s life.
And the one who saved her was the country girl from the countryside they all looked down on—Su Wanqing.
The Old Madam leaned back on the soft pillow, her gaze complicated as she looked at Su Wanqing.
This granddaughter-in-law, whom she had never taken seriously, had in just one hour first crushed Song Tingyu’s sharpness with tea and poetry,
Then saved her life at the brink of death with miraculous medical skill.
This heart, this talent, this courage—
She was no country bumpkin.
She was clearly a rough jade with a hidden, dazzling brilliance inside.
“Yuzhen, Tingyu,” the Old Madam slowly said, voice low but authoritative, “You both may leave now. I am tired.”
“Grandmother…”
“Mother…”
Liu Yuzhen and Song Tingyu wanted to say more, but when they met the Old Madam’s all-seeing eyes, they could only bitterly close their mouths, salute, and retreat.
Passing by Su Wanqing, their eyes were filled with uncontrollable resentment.
Su Wanqing’s counterattack had only just begun.
Only Su Wanqing and the Old Madam remained in the room.
The air was deathly silent.
After a long while, the Old Madam spoke again, staring at Su Wanqing and asking slowly, word by word:
“Who… exactly are you?”