In the front courtyard of Prince Rui’s residence.
Though night had already fallen, no lamps were lit inside the study.
With a creak, the door opened slightly as Steward Qin quietly entered.
From his angle, he could only see a thumb ring tapping lightly against the tabletop, reflecting a cold, sharp gleam.
Facing the figure hidden in darkness, Steward Qin respectfully reported,
“Master, everything has been handled.”
Only after a long while did the man’s low, lazy voice drift out.
“On the twentieth of the eighth month, bring her into the residence with the rites of a secondary consort.”
“Yes, Master.”
As Steward Qin closed the door behind him, the last trace of light in the room vanished.
After sitting in silence for a long time, Gu Zhanzhen rose and slowly walked to a curio shelf. Twisting the jade ornament hidden upon it, a mechanism creaked softly, and a painting rack slowly rotated out.
With utmost care, he lifted the white cloth covering it.
As the lively features of the woman in the painting gradually appeared, color finally burst into Gu Zhanzhen’s dull, lifeless eyes.
His long fingers gently caressed the portrait as he called out in a sorrowful voice,
“Fu’er… you’ve finally returned.”
Outside the study, the servant Fu’an, who had been standing guard, immediately trotted over with a grin when he saw Steward Qin emerge.
“Steward Qin, is there going to be happy news in Master’s rear courtyard soon?”
Steward Qin glanced toward the study to ensure the master hadn’t reacted, then dragged Fu’an down the steps toward the flower gate and kicked him squarely in the backside.
“You little brat, watch your mouth. Otherwise, you won’t even know when your head gets separated from your neck.”
Seeing Steward Qin’s darkened expression, Fu’an realized he had touched upon a taboo. Even the back of his neck turned cold.
He shrank back hurriedly.
“Steward Qin, this servant knows his fault. I absolutely won’t leak a single word.”
Steward Qin was too busy lecturing Fu’an to notice someone standing hidden on the other side of the doorway.
Yinqiao loved eavesdropping.
And her mistress happened to be in love with Gu Zhanzhen.
Secondary Consort Qiao Chuyue came from an illustrious family and was the legitimate daughter of the famed Amber General, the God of War.
She had only met Prince Rui once during the Spring Banquet, yet she had fallen hopelessly in love at first sight.
Rejecting marriage proposals from countless noble families in the capital, she used her father’s military merits to obtain an imperial marriage decree.
Having entered the residence three years ago, she was considered somewhat favored compared to the women in the other courtyards.
Today, Gu Zhanzhen had promised to dine with her, but after waiting endlessly—reheating the dishes several times over—he never appeared.
Afraid some little temptress from another courtyard had stolen the prince away, she sent her personal maid Yinqiao to search for him.
Yinqiao naturally had some connections within the residence. She learned that the master was in the study, but didn’t dare enter directly.
While hiding outside the flower gate, she just so happened to overhear the conversation between the two men.
There was no need to ask further.
Just the phrase “adding happy news” was enough to reveal that something was going on.
Yinqiao quickly slipped away.
Yet before her mistress could receive the news, the Princess Consort in the main courtyard had already heard about it first—and in even greater detail.
“You’re saying Steward Qin struck up a conversation with a young woman on the street, then later followed her home and even helped resolve her troubles?”
“Exactly.” Nanny Kong leaned in and whispered, “Steward Qin is the master’s closest confidant. Without the master’s approval, why would he bother meddling in someone else’s messy affairs?”
At the end, she added with emphasis,
“I heard they even brought in the Prefect of Jingzhao.”
The Prefect of Jingzhao governed the entire capital region. The fact that he had been mobilized showed Gu Zhanzhen truly cared.
Princess Consort Shen Wangshu was, after all, a noble lady raised in a prestigious family. Though momentarily shocked, she quickly returned to her usual calm expression.
Leaning lazily against a large pillow, she toyed with the tassel in her hand and said leisurely,
“Then that woman must be exceptionally beautiful.”
“Her looks are indeed remarkable, but…”
Seeing Nanny Kong hesitate awkwardly, Shen Wangshu said,
“You’re my wet nurse, practically family. What is there that I shouldn’t know?”
Nanny Kong frowned and reluctantly continued,
“…She’s a newly widowed woman. And she even has a child with her. She’s… remarried material…”
Afraid the princess consort might not take it well, her final words became almost inaudible.
“Oh? Is that all?” Shen Wangshu replied indifferently. “A remarried woman is good. She already knows how to keep a man’s heart.”
“Your Highness isn’t angry?” Nanny Kong placed a fresh cup of tea beside her.
Shen Wangshu sighed lightly while lifting the tea lid.
“If I got angry over such things, that Qiao woman would’ve angered me to death long ago.”
Watching the steam curl upward, an unreadable smile curved her lips.
“Send word to Qin Yue Garden as well. Good news like this should be shared so she can be happy too.”
Meanwhile, the Jiang family courtyard was brightly lit, attracting countless moths and insects.
Hidden behind a gauze curtain, Zhu Xinyan naturally had nothing to fear.
The miserable ones were the people who had bullied her earlier. They were now kneeling bare-chested in the courtyard, wearing only trousers, their bodies and faces covered with swollen mosquito bites.
The itching was unbearable, yet none of them dared scratch.
Because the moment they touched the bites, they would immediately be dragged away, tied up, and tortured with feathers tickling the soles of their feet.
It was truly agonizing.
But not one person dared complain.
After all, Zhu Xinyan had risen to the heavens in a single step and was soon to become Prince Rui’s favored concubine.
And who was Prince Rui?
He was the current emperor’s own nephew, a man of overwhelming power.
Moreover, the emperor was old and had no sons. Rumors among the common people even claimed Prince Rui might one day inherit the throne.
At that time, Zhu Xinyan would transform from a concubine into an imperial consort.
Since they had offended her today, they had to let her vent her anger completely.
Otherwise, if she settled accounts in the future, it wouldn’t just affect one person—it might drag down entire families.
Even these insignificant nobodies understood that logic.
How could the clan elder not understand it as well?
Though he cursed the fools for blindly following Jiang Huairen’s nonsense, he also secretly pitied these younger relatives.
After joking around and chatting idly with Zhu Xinyan for quite a while, he finally shamelessly spoke up to plead for mercy.
Before saying anything, he first grinned through his toothless mouth.
“Hehe… they’ve already been punished for quite some time now. Has Miss Zhu’s anger subsided yet?”
Because of the divorce document, they could no longer call her “Seventh Brother’s wife.” Originally they planned to address her as “Madam Zhu.”
But Zhu Xinyan found that inappropriate. Every time she heard it, she instinctively thought of The Legend of the White Snake and felt the urge to start singing:
“The waters of West Lake, my tears…”
To avoid unnecessary embarrassment—and because it sounded better—she told everyone to call her “Miss Zhu” instead.
Since the clan elder had personally pleaded, Zhu Xinyan naturally chose to give him face.
“I know they were merely misled by others. Since they’ve already been punished, of course I can let them go.”
Her voice wasn’t loud, but in the silent night it carried clearly.
The kneeling crowd felt as though they’d been granted amnesty. While kowtowing frantically, they scratched themselves with desperate relief.
“Thank you, Miss Zhu, for your mercy!”
“I haven’t finished speaking yet, so don’t thank me so quickly. Earlier, all of you threatened me and caused severe trauma to my fragile heart. I’m afraid it won’t recover anytime soon, so you’ll have to compensate me with emotional damages.”
The crowd stared at each other, completely bewildered.
One of the bolder men asked timidly,
“Miss Zhu… what are emotional damages?”
Ah, ignorance really was frightening.
Zhu Xinyan pressed a hand to her forehead and made a money-counting gesture.
“Money. Understand?”
The crowd shook their heads blankly.
Even the clan elder humbly asked,
“Ma… what?”
“Money,” Zhu Xinyan repeated carefully, correcting the pronunciation before sighing helplessly.
“It means ‘silver.’ Honestly, forcing someone as detached from worldly wealth as me to utter such vulgar words…”