2
“What do you mean, ‘as good as dead’?” Jiang Honghao frowned in displeasure. “The Prince of Qiyang is merely unconscious. I’ve heard that he was even awake for a considerable period just recently. This shows that the treatment is working. Given time, the day of the Prince of Qiyang’s full recovery is just around the corner.”
Mu Mingtang was speechless. In the year since she had arrived at the Jiang residence, she had been locked away and trained almost immediately upon entering the household, leaving her with very limited understanding of the outside world. She had originally been the daughter of an ordinary family in Xiangyang—how could she possibly understand the intricate circles and convoluted affairs of these high-ranking officials and nobles of the capital? And the Jiang family had taught her nothing at all, so that despite having nominally been the Second Miss Jiang for over a year, she barely knew anyone in the capital.
The Jiang Honghao before her, and Xie Xuanji sitting off to the side, were essentially the only men Mu Mingtang knew at all.
But even with such limited information, she at least knew that the Prince of Qiyang was no easy matter. Although he was also a prince, he was not the current emperor’s own son—he was the son of the late emperor.
The Prince of Qiyang was the late emperor’s legitimate son. However, his mental state was extremely unstable. He was bloodthirsty and murderous, alternating between unconsciousness and fits of lucidity. When he was awake, he tended to become violent and kill. When he flew into a rage, even his own father, the late emperor, had nearly fallen victim to his hand.
Given the Prince of Qiyang’s condition, he clearly could not inherit the throne. So, the late emperor, on his deathbed, passed the throne to his younger brother—the current emperor.
After the current emperor ascended the throne, the Prince of Qiyang’s condition did not improve. Instead, it grew worse and worse. Rumor had it that every single servant in the Prince of Qiyang’s residence—male and female alike had been killed by the prince during his fits of madness. Later, the guards watching over him were replaced with soldiers, and even then, new personnel had to be sent into the Prince of Qiyang’s residence from time to time.
It was said that an unwritten rule had emerged within the military: anyone who could survive six months in the Prince of Qiyang’s residence would, upon emerging, surely be promoted and ennobled, and granted a hundred taels of gold. Yet even with such generous rewards, no one was willing to go and care for or rather, guard—the Prince of Qiyang. According to legend, the prince had once served in the military and earned a reputation as a god of death. It was only later, after his killing had become too heavy a burden, that he suffered a backlash and ended up in this half-dead, mad and delirious state.
Mu Mingtang did not know whether the rumors were true or false. But at the very least, she knew that even professional, trained soldiers could not escape from the Prince of Qiyang’s clutches. So, what chance would a weak young woman like her—who couldn’t even escape Xiangyang when the city fell—have if she were sent to the Prince of Qiyang’s residence as a sacrificial lamb?
She would probably never get to enjoy being a princess consort. She would die that very same day and report to the King of Hell instead.
Mu Mingtang grew anxious. She could endure humiliation, cold treatment, even hardship. But she absolutely could not endure death. No one who had truly experienced death craved life more than she did.
She couldn’t help but take a small step forward and spoke earnestly: “Father, you and Madam rescued me from the hands of thugs back then, and I am deeply grateful. I am willing to serve you both for the rest of my life, to repay the kindness you showed me in those days. I do not wish to marry, nor do I harbor any desire to become a princess consort. My fate is too lowly to bear such fortune. Please, just let me stay in the household—pour tea, run errands, serve like a beast of burden. If you’ll have me, even as a maidservant, I will do.”
“How can that be?” Jiang Honghao rejected her without hesitation. “You are my foster daughter, the Second Miss of the Jiang family, not a servant. How could you do the work of a maid? Rest assured, your father here will support you in all things. Since you are to go and become a princess consort, just set your mind at ease and marry into that life of fortune. No one will dare gossip behind your back. Besides, the Prince of Qiyang is the late emperor’s legitimate son—a true dragon among princes, descended from imperial blood. Before his affliction, he was illustrious with merit, and all the noble ladies of the capital were vying to present themselves to him. Marrying him is, in every sense, marrying up for you. It is by no means an insult to your station.”
Xie Xuanji, who had remained silent for some time, sat to the side. Hearing this, he closed his fan and added, “My father-in-law speaks truly. Since ascending the throne, His Majesty has exhausted himself with worry, rising early and retiring late, fearful of failing the trust the late emperor placed in him. Over the years, governance has improved, the people live in peace and contentment, and the vitality lost to years of war has slowly been restored. His Majesty takes great comfort in this except for one matter that remains on his mind: his cousin, the Prince of Qiyang. He is the last remaining bloodline of the late emperor. He has reached the age for marriage, yet still has no wife or concubines by his side. His Majesty cannot set his mind at ease. Now that my father-in-law has voluntarily offered to marry the Second Miss to the Prince of Qiyang, it will put His Majesty’s greatest worry to rest. Once you have married into the household, take good care of my cousin. If you can bear him a child and carry on his bloodline, that will be your merit. In the future, the imperial family will certainly not treat you unfairly.”
Mu Mingtang had not once looked in Xie Xuanji’s direction since entering the room—partly to avoid suspicion, and partly to draw a clear line between them. Mu Mingtang understood very well that no matter how sweetly Jiang Honghao spoke, Jiang Mingwei was still his biological daughter. Just look at Xie Xuanji—wasn’t he already calling him “father-in-law”?
If she placed any hope in her former betrothed to stand up for her, if she entangled herself with the Prince of Jin, she would only be driving nails into the eyes of Jiang Honghao and Madam Jiang, and would surely come to no good end.
Mu Mingtang was self-aware enough to keep her distance from Xie Xuanji from the very beginning. But at his words, she couldn’t help but glance in his direction.
How ironic. The man who had been her betrothed just three or four days ago was now, in front of her foster father, telling her that after marrying his cousin, she should take good care of him, and preferably bear his child soon.
Mu Mingtang thought that even if Xie Xuanji had no feelings for her, she had been playing the role of Jiang Mingwei for so long, acting as his fiancée all this time. Even if he had merely known a stranger for three months, shouldn’t there be at least some semblance of goodwill by now? How could he stand by and watch her go and become a widow to a living corpse or even be buried alongside him?
Mu Mingtang gritted her teeth. The most valuable lesson the chaotic times had taught her was this: have no shame. Shame was a luxury only those with food and security could afford. Mu Mingtang just wanted to live. To live long, to live steady, to live safe.
Abruptly, she swept her skirts aside and knelt down, kowtowing to Jiang Honghao. “Father, all that I have today is thanks to your kindness. Since you saved me once, why not save me again? If it were any other man, and you arranged the marriage, I would marry him without a second word. But the Prince of Qiyang is no ordinary person. Everyone in the world knows his moods are unpredictable, that he slaughters like a butcher, that when his madness takes him he cannot tell friend from foe—he even harms himself. I’ve heard there are no maidservants left by his side—only elite soldiers. If even carefully chosen soldiers can’t control him, how am I to protect myself when I go there? I likely wouldn’t even be able to approach him before he killed me like an ant beneath his foot. I don’t want to die. I want to live—to live and fulfill my duty as a filial daughter to you and Mother. Please, Father, show mercy and save my life!”
With that, Mu Mingtang bowed deeply, pressing her forehead to her hands. A flicker of emotion crossed Jiang Honghao’s face. But he immediately thought of the benefits the Jiang family would gain from offering Mu Mingtang up, and that fleeting moment of softness froze solid into something unbreakable.
He looked away, refusing to meet Mu Mingtang’s eyes, and sighed. “Your father knows you’re afraid. But rumors are not to be believed. Those are just idle tales passed around by gossips. The Prince of Qiyang is an outstanding figure among men. Though his mind is clouded and he sometimes lashes out at others, his treatment has begun to show results. Once you marry into the household and care for him attentively, who knows—he may recover quickly. Don’t overthink this. Just set your mind at ease and prepare for your wedding.”
Perhaps seeing Mu Mingtang lift her head and open her mouth to argue, Jiang Honghao hardened his expression and cut her off decisively. “The emperor’s word is not spoken in jest. When His Majesty learned that the Jiang family was willing to share his burden and that you were willing to marry and care for the Prince of Qiyang, he was overjoyed. He specifically commended your father at court today. The imperial will has already spread throughout the court and the realm. If you refuse, would that not be defying the imperial edict? If so, not only would you lose your life, but your father would be implicated as well. I raised you all this time—not so that you could repay kindness with enmity.”
Repay kindness with enmity? What a phrase. Mu Mingtang’s heart grew cold as she listened. Not wanting to die, not wanting to marry a living corpse—that was her fault now? She understood clearly now. Jiang Honghao was determined to sell her off. No matter how much she begged, no matter how low she groveled, he would not change his mind.
The Prince of Qiyang was the late emperor’s legitimate son and the current emperor’s nephew. That the late emperor had not passed the throne to his own son but to his younger brother was already highly suspect. And on top of that, the Prince of Qiyang was half-dead, clinging to life by a thread. No matter how one looked at it, the emperor seemed suspicious.
Mu Mingtang didn’t know whether the prince’s current condition had anything to do with the emperor, or whether there was any truth to the rumors surrounding the succession. But one thing was certain: the current emperor felt guilty. He was terrified that others would accuse him of mistreating the late emperor’s legitimate son. That was undeniable.
And then Jiang Honghao stepped forward, offering to marry his second daughter to the Prince of Qiyang—perfectly solving the emperor’s greatest worry. The emperor had spent many years trying to cure his nephew. Now he was also finding him a wife. If the prince still didn’t recover in the end, surely no one could blame the emperor anymore.
The Jiang family pleased the emperor, and in return, the emperor would reward Jiang Honghao. Jiang Honghao had been stuck in the position of Deputy Commissioner of the Three Bureaus for many years. Perhaps this time, he could finally be promoted to the top spot. The emperor would gain a reputation for benevolence. The Jiang family would gain profit. Jiang Mingwei would get rid of an eyesore of a substitute. And Xie Xuanji would please his pure moonlight. Everyone would be overjoyed. The only one sacrificed in all of this was Mu Mingtang.
Four parties stood to gain—and gain tremendously. Would Jiang Honghao, just for the sake of a foster daughter, give up such ready-made benefits for a mere outsider like Mu Mingtang?
How could that be possible? Even Mu Mingtang herself knew it was impossible.
The blood in Mu Mingtang’s veins ran cold. Her heart turned to ice as well. In the year and a half she had spent in the Jiang household, clumsy as she was at the beginning, once she had adjusted, she had tried her utmost to please everyone. Madam Jiang, Jiang Honghao, Xie Xuanji—even the maids and elder servants of the Jiang family—she had done her best to treat them all well. She had thought that even if her foster parents couldn’t bring themselves to treat her like a real daughter, surely after spending every day together for over a year, some affection would have grown. Even with a dog, after raising it for a year, you’d hesitate to beat it to death.
But she—she was worth even less than a dog.
The truth was, she was not naturally gentle or refined. The year of fleeing for her life had honed her into someone shrewd, sharp-tongued, and calculating down to every last copper. But Madam Jiang liked gentleness and refinement, so Mu Mingtang exhausted herself playing the part. The truth was, she didn’t even like the colors green and blue. A girl from a humble merchant family loved the vulgar but festive shades of fiery red and brilliant gold.
But those cool, sophisticated colors were what Jiang Mingwei liked. So, Mu Mingtang cut her feet to fit the shoes, cramming herself into Jiang Mingwei’s mold. She didn’t dare speak freely, didn’t dare laugh openly, didn’t even dare eat properly. All of this, every bit of it, was just so she could survive.
To survive with dignity, to live like a human being.
But today, the reality was laid out before Mu Mingtang with brutal clarity: they had never considered her one of their own. They had never even considered her a person at all. Her only purpose had been to serve as Jiang Mingwei’s substitute. Now that Jiang Mingwei had returned, the fake had to be disposed of. And what better way than to throw her into the Prince of Qiyang’s residence, squeezing out the last drop of her value?
Jiang Honghao saw Mu Mingtang kneeling on the ground, silent for a long time. In the end, his heart softened, just a little. After all, she was a young woman as fresh as a flower. When Madam Jiang had first brought her back, her face still carried some resemblance to Jiang Mingwei. But as the years passed and her features matured, Mu Mingtang had grown to look less and less like Jiang Mingwei. Instead, she suited her own name—a hint of deep spring scenery, of lush and vivid beauty. If Xiangyang had not been destroyed, if she had not drifted to the capital as a refugee, Mu Mingtang might have been a cherished daughter, raised in a sheltered boudoir, carefree and doted upon by her parents.
What parent would willingly send a daughter in the prime of her youth to marry a half-dead madman? Jiang Honghao sighed inwardly. Softening his voice, he said, “When your elder sister returned a few days ago, the household was in disarray. We didn’t get to properly celebrate your birthday banquet. In a little while, your father will make it up to you with a birthday gift.”
Jiang Honghao felt that, as her foster father, speaking to her so kindly and offering to make up her birthday present was an act of immense condescension and benevolence. Surely Mu Mingtang would be overwhelmed with gratitude and devotion. He waited for her to speak words of thanks. But instead, Mu Mingtang stood up from the ground without a word.
Jiang Honghao frowned. Just as he thought—this girl who came from the common folk had no understanding of proper etiquette. Her father was speaking to her, and not only did she not respond, but she got up on her own?
Had he told her to rise? Utterly without discipline. A piece of rotten wood that could not be carved.
Mu Mingtang did not, as she used to do, immediately panic and apologize the moment Jiang Honghao’s expression shifted, frantically examining where she had gone wrong. Instead, she curled her lips into a faint smile. She looked at Jiang Honghao, then turned to look at Xie Xuanji. “Sanctimonious hypocrites who deceive the world and steal fame—I never understood these two phrases before, but today I’ve finally seen living examples.”
Xie Xuanji’s face darkened instantly. Jiang Honghao too flew into a rage. “How dare you! Jiang Mingtang, what are you saying? Kneel and beg forgiveness at once!”
“Celebrate my birthday? Give me a birthday gift? Spare me your hypocrisy. My name is not Jiang Mingtang. And my birthday is not in June. The third day of the sixth month—that’s Jiang Mingwei’s birthday. My birthday has already passed.”
Jiang Honghao choked for a moment. Her birthday had already passed? Only then did it occur to him that he had never asked when Mu Mingtang’s birthday was. Not just him—no one in the Jiang household cared. They had simply taken it for granted that her birthday would be celebrated on the third day of the sixth month.
The third day of the sixth month—Jiang Mingwei’s birthday.
“You keep saying this is for my own good, that marrying the Prince of Qiyang is marrying up for me. Then why don’t you let your own daughter marry up? My fate is too lowly—I can’t reach that height, is that all right?” Jiang Honghao started to speak, but Mu Mingtang cut him off. “I don’t want to listen to your fake, sanctimonious excuses. If you want to curry favor with your superior, just say so. If you want to sell off your daughter, just say so. Don’t dress it up with claims of ‘this is for your own good.’ Doesn’t it make you burn with shame to say such things out loud?”
Jiang Honghao held the position of Deputy Chancellor. In official circles, he exchanged pleasantries and bureaucratic niceties with his colleagues. At home, he was the absolute master of the household—Madam Jiang did not dare to disobey a single word he said, and even Jiang Mingwei was afraid of him. No one had ever dared to point a finger in Jiang Honghao’s face and call him a hypocrite.
“Outrageous!” Jiang Honghao slammed his hand on the table and shot to his feet, bellowing, “The Jiang family took you in, gave you fine clothes and rich food, provided you with servants to wait on you hand and foot—and this is how you repay your saviors? If it weren’t for me, you would have spent your entire life married to some common peddler or laborer. You never would have had the chance to become a princess consort!”
“You’re right—I’m not worthy. So, tell me, did I beg you to take me in? Did I beg you to marry me off to the Prince of Jin?” Mu Mingtang discarded all pretense entirely. She met Jiang Honghao’s glare without flinching, without yielding. This was the real her—the common woman who had traveled alone from Xiangyang to Chenliu and dared to curse out a pawnshop owner in the middle of the street.
Jiang Honghao choked, momentarily at a loss for words. It was true. However righteous his words sounded, the truth was that this had been the Jiang family’s choice from the very beginning. Mu Mingtang had indeed accepted their kindness, but that did not mean she owed them to the extent he claimed.
Mu Mingtang had been pretending for far too long. She was utterly sick of swallowing all this humiliation. She had once bent over backward to please the Jiang family—out of gratitude, and to hold onto the hard-won stability she had finally found. But now she realized that no matter how ladylike she pretended to be, the Jiang family would never treat her like a real person. So why bother? Why endure this humiliation any longer? Jiang Honghao was about to send her to a living tomb just so he could get promoted. Was she supposed to fall to her knees in gratitude, thanking the Jiang family for making her a princess?
Thank him, her foot. She, Mu Mingtang, was a vulgar, uncouth merchant’s daughter. A pile of mud. She could never learn the elegance of these highborn nobles.
Mu Mingtang yanked the hairpin from her head—the one in Jiang Mingwei’s style—and smashed it onto the ground. “My father always said that in this life, you can owe anything but a debt of gratitude. So, I’ll give up myself. I’ll give up the rest of my life. This is to repay you for taking me in this past year. After this, we’ll go our separate ways—no more debts between us.”
The delicate hairpin hit the floor and shattered with a sharp crack. The green jade beads scattered across the ground, bouncing and rolling in every direction. Jiang Honghao was livid. Mu Mingtang had dared to say “no more debts” right to his face. There were certain things that could be understood in private but never spoken aloud—and she had just spoken them.
Jiang Honghao’s face darkened. “No more debts? The Jiang family’s kindness to you is immense. And yet the way you speak of it, anyone would think you’ve been wronged! You haven’t learned a thing about benevolence, righteousness, courtesy, or faithfulness. Instead, you turn around and accuse the Jiang family of unrighteousness. The ‘crime’ you speak of is nothing more than that we didn’t marry you off to the very best family possible. It’s clear—you’re still coveting what belongs to Mingwei.”
Mu Mingtang had intended to stop there for the day. But at Jiang Honghao’s words, she exploded. For an entire year, she had been a substitute. She had given up her own surname, her own background, and ultimately her entire identity—all to imitate Jiang Mingwei. Anyone in the world had the right to accuse her of coveting wealth and luxury—anyone except the Jiang family.
She had had enough. Pointing at Jiang Honghao, she shouted in fury, “You corrupt official! I covet what belongs to Jiang Mingwei? Do you really think your family home is made of gold, that everyone is desperate to curry favor with you? People flatter you, and you actually believe you’re some wise and capable guardian of justice? Ha! I said all those things because I needed the Jiang family to get by—because I had no choice but to flatter you. What are you glaring at? Do you even know your own worth? Do you really think Madam Jiang, your two concubines, and all the servants truly admire you? Clean your eyes and take a good look in the mirror! You’re nothing but a fawning hypocrite who sells his own daughter for a promotion—a villain pretending to be a gentleman!”
Mu Mingtang finished her tirade in one breath, and even marveled internally that she had managed to use two idioms in a single sentence. What a burst of literary flair! Finally, she had vented a year’s worth of pent-up frustration. Seeing Jiang Honghao too furious to speak, and Xie Xuanji rise abruptly from his seat as if to discipline her, Mu Mingtang immediately turned around and fixed him with a defiant, smug expression—the very picture of a petty social climber who had just gotten lucky. She raised an eyebrow. “What are you trying to do? You really are the Paragon of Devoted Princes, aren’t you? Betrothed to a woman who fled on your wedding night, and still faithful beyond death. I truly admire you! I wish you and Jiang Mingwei a lifetime of happiness together—may you never part!”
“Vulgar, insufferable, and utterly senseless,” Xie Xuanji said, frowning at her as if looking at something filthy he could barely tolerate. Mu Mingtang had once treated him as her fiancé and had naturally tried her best to please him. But now, about to become his sister-in-law—should she be afraid of him?
Mu Mingtang let out a cold laugh. “Yes, I’m vulgar! I’m ignorant and common! And what business is that of yours? I’ve been wanting to say this for a long time—you might look like a decent man, but your eyesight is terrible. Putting on airs, pretending to be refined and elegant. All these flashy, hollow displays—who exactly are you performing for? I treated you sincerely, and in return, you hand me over to another man. Fine! You go your way, and I’ll go mine. We’ll see what happens down the road!”
With that, Mu Mingtang turned to leave. Xie Xuanji had never been subjected to such insolence. He reached out and grabbed her, pulling her back. Caught off guard, Mu Mingtang let out a shriek and yelled, “Lewd scoundrel! What do you think you’re doing to your sister-in-law?”
Xie Xuanji’s face stiffened, and he let go as if burned. Mu Mingtang snatched her arm back and rubbed her sore wrist, still giving no ground as she cursed, “Your Highness the Prince of Jin, you were just the one who said the emperor has proclaimed with his own mouth at court that I am the Princess of Qiyang. I am now your soon-to-be sister-in-law. Show me some respect. If you lay a hand on me again, don’t blame me if I go to the Imperial Clan Court and accuse you of molesting your brother’s wife!”
**