Yun Xueyao’s face turned pale. Without a second thought, she refused: “I already have so few clothes and ornaments. If I sell them all, what will I wear, what will I adorn myself with? When the noble daughters of the great families mock me, how am I supposed to respond?”
Yun Xiaoran’s expression darkened. “You—”
Yun Xueyao’s eyes reddened as she pressed on: “I am to marry the Crown Prince. Without even a little private money at hand, how will I manage the servants of the Eastern Palace? How will I win their loyalty so they’ll willingly serve me? Elder Brother, can’t you think of me for once?!”
Yun Xiaoran snapped back: “You’re marrying into the Eastern Palace—won’t the family prepare a dowry for you?!”
Yun Xueyao retorted sharply: “Today you can’t even produce tens of thousands of taels of silver. When the time comes for me to wed, how much dowry will you really be able to provide? I don’t care—those clothes and ornaments I will not return, nor will I sell them!”
She spoke as if it were nothing! Were tens of thousands of taels of silver a trivial sum?
Yun Xiaoran flew into a rage. “Yun Xueyao, can’t you show some sense?”
“I—”
“Enough! Stop quarreling!” Madam Yun, her head aching from the noise, snapped in exasperation. “Those debt collectors outside—aren’t they afraid of death? Xiaoran, you’re the young general, with so many soldiers under your command. Send a few to scare them off, and if they insist on demanding money, what harm in killing a few?”
Yun Xiaoran stiffened, staring at her in disbelief. “Mother, what did you just say? Kill a few—what harm?”
Under the Son of Heaven’s rule, in broad daylight, how could his mother speak of killing so lightly? And those who could afford to patronize Zhenbao Pavilion—didn’t each have powerful backers behind them? Was Mother planning to drag the entire Yun family down with her?
Madam Yun retorted angrily, “Your father fights at the frontier, winning glory for the empire, and yet they dare come to the General’s manor to demand payment—don’t you find that laughable?”
Hearing this, Yun Xiaoran shut his eyes, fury surging to the crown of his head. “A debt repaid with money—that is the natural order!”
He could scarcely believe his mother had uttered such words.
A general’s position was already precarious, always under suspicion even when acting with utmost caution. And here, in the capital itself, she not only wanted to repudiate debts but even urged him to kill?
Was killing so easy a matter? Even the emperor paid for what he bought. Since Yun Xueyao dared to buy on credit, why should creditors not come knocking?
Yun Xiaoran’s temples throbbed with pain. Suppressing his fury, he turned to Yun Xueyao. “You have only one choice now: take those new clothes and jewels, sell them for whatever they’ll fetch, and pay off as much of the debt as possible to silence them. Otherwise, I will enter the palace and confess my guilt. If His Majesty deems you wasteful and extravagant, he will reconsider whether you are fit to be Crown Princess.”
Yun Xueyao’s face went deathly pale. “Brother, you cannot do this!”
Yun Xiaoran no longer paid her any heed and turned toward the front hall.
Inside, more than a dozen men sat crowded together, voices overlapping, some clutching abacuses, others ledger books. The sight made Yun Xiaoran’s head spin all over again. Just moments ago at the gate, he had heard the stewards report the figures. A rough calculation put the debt at nearly thirty thousand taels—and who knew if other creditors were still yet to arrive.
The annual stipend of the Grand General was just over ten thousand taels. Though there were rations and bolts of silk, those were meant for household food and clothing, not to be sold off. His own salary was six thousand taels.
Father and son had earned many military merits in recent years, and the emperor had rewarded them with several thousand taels. Yet even adding everything together, once household expenses and servants’ stipends were deducted, almost nothing remained—certainly not enough to cover these accounts. Originally… originally, he might have been able to repay it.
Yun Xiaoran’s expression was grim. But Mingyue’s words echoed in his mind: if the General’s manor could so easily settle such a debt, would that not arouse suspicion that they were embezzling army funds or had some hidden source of income?
His father had not yet been ennobled. Though the emperor had granted them land earlier in the year, its revenues had not yet begun to flow. More importantly, the imperial treasury was strained. For the General’s household to spend so lavishly was improper, contrary to the royal family’s example of frugality. If the censors took notice, the General’s manor would be thrust into the storm at once.
The thought made Yun Xiaoran’s head throb again. He looked at the assembled shopkeepers, clasped his hands, and bowed. “Gentlemen, I was unaware of my sister’s debts at your establishments. This sum cannot be produced at once. I beg you to grant me some time to gather the money. Will three days suffice? Within three days, I will raise the silver and deliver it to you, so none of you need be troubled further.”
The shopkeepers conferred among themselves, then nodded. “Three days it is. But, General, you must keep your word. If the money is not produced within three days, we will take our ledgers to the magistrate.”
At the mention of filing a complaint, Yun Xiaoran’s face darkened. Yet since he had promised three days, he must abide by his word. “Agreed,” he forced down his anger. “Only—I have one question, and I hope you will enlighten me.”
“Please ask, General.”
“My sister said you gave her a two‑month grace period. Why then have you all suddenly come together today to demand payment?” Yun Xiaoran frowned, his gaze deep and sharp. “Was someone behind this, urging you on?”
The shopkeeper of Zhenbao Pavilion smiled faintly. “General, you jest. We never promised Miss Yun a two‑month grace period. She ordered her goods and only said she would send the money as soon as possible. We waited more than ten days without seeing her, so we came to collect. If we have been presumptuous, we beg your pardon.” With that, the shopkeepers and accountants all took their leave.
Yun Xiaoran’s gaze was cold. After seeing them off, he summoned his personal guard. “Investigate. Find out who stands behind these shopkeepers, and who they have been meeting with lately.”
“Yes, sir.”
Even as Yun Xiaoran’s suspicions grew, Pei Ziyan had also dispatched men to look into Zhenbao Pavilion. He suspected the sudden demands from these shops were no coincidence—that someone was pulling strings behind the scenes. But who that hidden hand was, he had yet to discover.
As night fell, Pei Ziyan stood before the window, hands clasped behind his back, staring silently into the darkness. The night was deep and still, like autumn waters. His eyes, usually gentle as flowing water, now held only shadow and gloom. Because he knew well Xiao Qingxue’s unyielding nature—better to shatter like jade than live as broken tile—he had withheld from her the news that the emperor had chosen a Crown Princess for him. Yet he had not expected her reaction to be so fierce.
No second choice. Only divorce. A resolute divorce.
Pei Ziyan closed his eyes lightly. He would never agree to it. He loved Xiao Qingxue—of that there was no doubt. Yun Xueyao, in his eyes, represented nothing but the Yun family’s military power. Even if he married her, he could never love her. Why could Qingxue not understand this?