Jiang Lingwan escorted her mother back to Jinghaoyuan. Upon arriving, Jiang Bochen found her presence bothersome and shooed her away.
Jiang Lingwan said, “Then I’ll go inform the instructor at the Women’s Academy. There are some family matters these days, so my second sister and I need to request a few days off.”
Jinghua Women’s Academy was one of the top women’s academies in Daqi, admitting only twenty female students each year. Those who passed the entrance exam were among the most outstanding girls. With both his daughters having been accepted, Jiang Bochen dared not take it lightly. He said, “That’s fine. Just say your mother is ill, and you sisters need to stay home to care for her. As for the duration… let’s not specify for now.”
Her mother lifted her eyes and reminded her, “After you request leave, come straight back. Don’t dawdle on the way, and don’t wander off.”
“Have Mama Du accompany me out,” Jiang Lingwan agreed, then had a carriage prepared and set off.
Upon reaching the entrance of the Women’s Academy, Jiang Lingwan instructed the coachman to wait while she entered to request leave from the instructor. Afterward, instead of leaving through the main gate, she went to the back entrance, hailed another carriage, and headed straight for West Street.
West Street was lined with shops of all kinds—taverns, teahouses, bookstores, inns, and pharmacies. Jiang Lingwan had the carriage stop in front of a pharmacy named Huichun Pharmacy, hopped down, and went inside to find Ma Yipo.
Ma Yipo was dark-skinned and thin, with high cheekbones and finely drawn, elongated eyebrows. She greeted everyone with a smile, saying, “What a rare guest! If Third Miss had business, you could have sent someone to summon me to the mansion. Yet you’ve taken the trouble to come yourself. Coincidentally, I received a packet of fine tea yesterday. Let me brew some for you to taste.”
“No need,” Jiang Lingwan got straight to the point. “How much did Concubine Qiao pay you to harm my mother? I can double it. Name your price.”
Ma Yipo was startled, clutching her chest dramatically. “Third Miss, you mustn’t joke like that. It’s enough to scare a person to death.”
“Enough,” Jiang Lingwan said impatiently. “Since I’ve come to you, I’ve already investigated thoroughly. There’s no need for you to put on an act. You must know how substantial my mother’s assets are. Working for me is a hundred, even a thousand times better than serving Concubine Qiao. Just tell me how much you want.”
Jiang Lingwan waved her hand, clearly unwilling to continue the charade.
Ma Yipo, being someone who would do anything for money, rolled her eyes a few times before raising her wrinkled face into a smile. “Since the young lady has use for this old woman, I am naturally willing to go through fire and water for you.”
She didn’t admit to any underhanded dealings with Concubine Qiao, only expressing her willingness to serve Jiang Lingwan. Having dealt with all sorts of people and weathered many storms over the years, she was full of cunning.
“You helped Concubine Qiao feign illness earlier, and yesterday you agreed to put something in my mother’s miscarriage-inducing medicine. I know all about it.”
Hearing this, Ma Yipo showed no fear and chuckled. “Third Miss is indeed clever. Give me five hundred taels of silver, and tomorrow I’ll prepare a packet of fake medicine for the lady, ensuring the child in her womb remains safe and sound, without any mishap.”
Jiang Lingwan also smiled. “No, tomorrow’s miscarriage-inducing medicine—go ahead and prepare it. Put in everything that should be added, and even what shouldn’t be.”
“Very well, I’ll do as you say,” Ma Yipo replied, having seen such situations many times before. She understood exactly what was meant by those words.
“If you obey obediently, I will give you another five hundred taels after the matter is done. But if you dare to play tricks in front of me, I will expose all the things you’ve done in the past.” Jiang Lingwan said, “I know you’re not afraid—after all, you’ve acted covertly, leaving no evidence or proof. However, some people don’t care about evidence. As long as she believes it was you, she will do everything in her power to destroy you. For example, that highly favored Princess Chang—she would rather kill a thousand by mistake than let one go.”
Ma Yipo’s face finally changed, a faint greenish hue emerging.
Jiang Lingwan raised an eyebrow and chuckled lightly, “What? Do I know too much? Are you thinking of silencing me?”
Ma Yipo’s expression shifted again, and she quickly shook her head, forcing a smile. “You are so formidable, holding such a big secret over me. How would I dare?”
“You’d better not dare. Even if you did, I wouldn’t be afraid. I’ve written down all the things you’ve done, and all the things you’ve helped your mistress do. If anything happens to me, all of it will be made public. By then, your mistress will be too busy trying to kill you to save you. You’re a smart person; you naturally know what should and shouldn’t be done.”
Only then did Ma Yipo’s face tighten, her eyes growing serious as she studied Jiang Lingwan for a long moment.
This young girl was only eleven or twelve years old, as beautiful as a flower. Her eyes held a faint smile, bright and lovely—even someone with a heart of steel would melt under her smiling gaze.
Yet this delicate, adorable young girl spoke words that grew sharper with each sentence. Not only had she guessed all of Ma Yipo’s thoughts, but she had also cut off every possible escape route.
The two locked eyes—Ma Yipo wary and fearful, Jiang Lingwan indifferent. After a moment, Ma Yipo finally averted her gaze and lowered her head. “This old woman dare not disobey the young lady’s orders.”
Jiang Lingwan nodded in satisfaction, put on her veil hat, left Huichun Pharmacy, retraced her steps back to the Women’s Academy, exited the main gate, and boarded her family’s carriage.
“Let’s go back,” Jiang Lingwan instructed.
Now, everything was ready; all that was left was the final push.
In Jinghaoyuan, Jiang Bochen and Mei Xueniang were still arguing. Or rather, it was Jiang Bochen alone, speaking in a flustered and exasperated manner.
“…How many times do I have to say it? There was no framing or slandering, and no one wanted to harm you. Sister Yuan was wrong today, but I’ve already punished her. Her mistake is her mistake, and it has nothing to do with your miscarriage.”
He rambled on for a long time, his tongue growing stiff and his throat burning as if on fire, gulping down cup after cup of tea.
Mei Xueniang, however, simply sat there calmly, listening without uttering a single word in response.
Jiang Bochen grew both angry and exhausted, his nostrils flaring as he lifted the teapot to pour more tea, only to find it had long been emptied by him.
“Where have all the servants gone!” Jiang Bochen roared in fury, shouting at the top of his lungs, “Bring tea! Refill the water!”
He shouted several times, but not a single servant responded.
Trembling with anger, Jiang Bochen pointed at Mei Xueniang. “Is this how you manage as the mistress? Look at how lazy and negligent the servants have become! Are my words no longer of any use, just empty noise in their ears? Since the servants won’t listen, sell them all! Every last one of them!”
“Lord, look in the mirror.”
Jiang Bochen turned to look at the full-length mirror beside the bed. The man in the mirror was red-faced and thick-necked, gritting his teeth with a furious expression, like a rooster puffing up its feathers ready for a fight—thinking himself imposing and majestic, but in reality, he was outwardly strong yet inwardly weak, utterly laughable. There was not a trace of his usual dignified elegance left.
Jiang Bochen immediately fell silent. Gazing at his reflection, he slowly calmed down, his rapid breathing gradually steadying.
The room fell into silence before Mei Xueniang stood up and walked to his side, her voice as gentle as water: “Changqing, you know I was wronged. The child in my womb is our own flesh and blood. Wouldn’t it break your heart to have it taken away like this?”
Jiang Bochen stiffened, a flicker of confusion flashing in his eyes.
Thirteen years ago, on the full moon celebration of their eldest daughter, Yuan Jie’er, he and his wife went to the temple to offer incense and fulfill their vows. On the way, they encountered bandits. He was knocked unconscious and, upon waking, had lost his memory, ending up in Qingcheng County, Shandong. It was Mei Xueniang who saved him, starving, freezing, and unconscious.
At that time, he couldn’t remember his own name. Mei Xueniang gave him the name Changqing, hoping he would stand firm like a winter pine, unyielding to the cold. She also had him take her surname, Mei, and gave him a place to stay.
Half a year later, he married into the Mei family and became Mei Xueniang’s husband.
Mei Xueniang had relied on her father since childhood. After losing him at fourteen, she single-handedly managed the family’s jade shop. She was beautiful, skilled in business, capable both at home and outside, and treated him with tender devotion, always yielding to his wishes. They were deeply in love, their days sweeter than honey. Who wouldn’t envy his good fortune?
A year later, their daughter Wan Jie’er was born. He remembered his identity and brought Mei Xueniang and their daughter back to the capital. Since then, Mei Xueniang had called him Bochen, and later Lord, never again using the name Changqing.
Hearing that name again now, Jiang Bochen couldn’t help but recall those days in Qingcheng County—him studying by the window, her adding fragrance to his inkstone; under the moonlight and among the flowers, they pledged their love.
His expression softened gradually.
Suddenly, his hand grew warm—Mei Xueniang had taken it and gently placed it on her abdomen. “Changqing, this is our child. Let him stay. He will be born, grow up, call you ‘Father’ in a soft voice, reach out his little hands for you to hold, thrive, study, and learn to read… just as you’ve always hoped.”
A flicker of struggle passed through Jiang Bochen’s eyes.
He naturally believed in Mei Xueniang’s character and was willing to believe the child in her womb was his own flesh and blood. He also knew that Mei Xueniang had already lost two pregnancies before. If she lost this one, not only would it be difficult for her to conceive again, but the risks were also extremely high. A single misstep could mean two lives lost. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have hesitated for so long.
But it was better to be safe than sorry. What if the child wasn’t his? Could he risk tainting his bloodline by raising another man’s child…
Jiang Bochen suddenly made up his mind. He abruptly withdrew his hand, turned around, and strode toward the door as if fleeing, reaching it in an instant.
“Changqing!” Mei Xueniang cried out, her voice breaking. “Qinglang…”
Jiang Bochen paused but did not turn back, speaking somewhat awkwardly, “I’ll have someone take my card and invite Old Imperial Physician Zhao. With him overseeing things, you’ll be fine.”
Mei Xueniang stood in the room, her face pale as snow.
Her gaze lingered blankly on the green gauze curtain. Soon, that blankness transformed into a resolute, mocking smile.
“Madam.” Mama Du wept, “How could the Lord be so heartless! He wasn’t like this before.”
“But it’s no longer the past.” Mei Xueniang, perhaps having reached the peak of disappointment, tugged at the corner of her mouth and instead comforted Mama Du: “There’s no need to cry, nothing to be sad about. For someone like him, it’s not worth it. Couples who are united in appearance but divided at heart are not unheard of, and I am no longer a teenage girl who cannot live without love. Let it be this way from now on.”
Her voice was calm, her tone indifferent, as if she were speaking of an utterly trivial matter. Hearing this, Mama Du only grew more sorrowful.
“But Madam, you are still so young, only thirty.” Mama Du gazed at Mei Xueniang’s elegant, fair face, like a magnolia flower, and could not help but feel a surge of grief: “Will you truly spend the rest of your days like withered wood and dead ashes?”
“Let us leave the Jiang Family and return to Qingcheng County.”
“No.” Mei Xueniang’s voice was weary but resolute: “I can leave, but what about Wan Jie’er? She worked so hard to get into Jinghua Nüxue, with such a bright future ahead. It cannot be ruined because of me.”
Mama Du fell silent. Jinghua Women’s Academy had a rule: it only accepted daughters of officials and nobles. There were female students who had lost their eligibility and had to leave the academy because their fathers or brothers were dismissed from office.
If the young lady were not taken along, the Madam would surely be uneasy. Concubine Qiao and Jiang Lingyuan harbored ill intentions, hiding knives behind their smiles. The young lady was innocent, naive, and guileless—how could she be a match for them?
But if the young lady were taken, whether the Jiang Family would agree aside, at the very least, she would no longer be able to attend Jinghua Women’s Academy.
“Then Mother can leave on her own, and I will stay with the Jiang Family.” The curtain stirred as Jiang Lingwan entered: “Mother, you need not worry about me. Concubine Qiao and her daughter cannot harm me.”
She had not known that things between her father and mother had reached such a state. Originally, she had planned to use tactics to force her father to agree, even if reluctantly, to keep her younger brother or sister.
Now it seemed there was no need for such trouble. It would be better to simply let her mother leave the Jiang Family.
Mei Xueniang remained silent, but Mama Du could not contain her disbelief and exclaimed in surprise: “Young lady, you are willing to let the Madam leave?”