Upon hearing Qiao Wan claim there was still a way out, Zhang Zihe was overjoyed. He scrambled to ask for her solution.
“There is one more person who can speak to the Empress Dowager on your behalf,” Qiao Wan said, partially masking her lips with her hand as she leaned in to whisper a name in his ear.
“Of course! Why didn’t I think of that?” Zhang Zihe clapped his hands in realization, but his brow soon furrowed again. He hesitated, stammering, “But, wouldn’t that be improper? You want me to go directly to my second cousin-in-law? If my cousin finds out, won’t it look like I’m saying he’s inferior to his wife? He hates it most when people say he only got his official post because of her. He’d, he’d skin me alive on the spot!”
My, this dandy’s IQ really does fluctuate, Qiao Wan thought. At least his mind is moving fast for once. She gave a soft, internal “tsk” but continued to coax him: “Just be discreet. If he doesn’t find out, what’s the harm?”
She knew Zhang Zihe lacked the spine for this. Had she told him this part of the plan earlier, he would have chickened out before even reaching the Zheng manor. But now that he was desperate, he only needed a gentle nudge to take the bait.
“Lady Chen is the Empress Dowager’s niece. Her persuasion will surely carry more weight than your cousin’s. I knew you’d have reservations, which is why I didn’t suggest her the first time.”
Qiao Wan paused, then continued, “I originally thought that since the Empress Dowager allowed your cousin to hold such a vital position as Commander of the Imperial Guard, he must be special in her eyes. Now I see I was mistaken. She likely only employs him because he is the Chen family’s son-in-law. Seeking his help is far less effective than seeking Lady Chen’s.”
“But, what if even she can’t help, and I end up ruining things with my cousin for nothing?” Zhang Zihe stood up, sat back down, and stood up again, unable to commit.
“Is your relationship with him not already ruined? After the way he cursed you, does he truly treat you like a brother?”
Qiao Wan’s question brought back the sting of that day’s humiliation. Zhang Zihe sank back into his stool, staring blankly at the teapot.
Seeing him waver, Qiao Wan struck while the iron was hot. “Think about it. How destitute was the Duke of Ning’s family before? They only regained their status because of your cousin-in-law. The Chen family has been shamelessly selling titles for years; there isn’t a post they won’t sell, only people they won’t sell to. Prepare a generous gift and go to Lady Chen. Let her put in a good word with the Empress Dowager—it cannot go wrong.”
She leaned in closer. “As for your cousin, let him be angry. Once you are the Eastern Inspectorate, even he will fall under your supervision. Will you fear him then? I visited my mentor today; he said he will present the proposal to split the Censorate to the Emperor shortly. You must hurry. If someone else snags the Empress Dowager’s promise first, it will be too late!”
Her words first dismantled his fears, then fueled a sense of urgent greed.
Zhang Zihe, knowing nothing of political maneuvering, felt his mind become a tangled mess at the mention of “limited time.” He instinctively followed Qiao Wan’s logic, and the more he thought, the more right she seemed.
Zheng Wei looked down on him anyway. He had embarrassed him in public—why should he care about Zheng Wei’s feelings? Once this succeeded, Zheng Wei could fume all he wanted but would have to swallow it. He had endured Zheng Wei for so long; it was time for his cousin to taste the bitterness of being looked down upon!
Having reached this realization, Zhang Zihe slammed the table and roared, “Fine!”
Qiao Wan, who was mid-sip, was so startled by his sudden outburst that her hand shook, nearly spilling tea all over herself.
Realizing he was too loud, Zhang Zihe immediately hunched over, his grand bravado vanishing in less than a second.
“You’re sure there won’t be a problem, right?” He whispered, his eyes still flickering with trepidation.
So that shout wasn’t out of resolve, but to bolster your own cowardice?
Qiao Wan set down her cup and sat up straight, adopting a deadly serious expression. “Absolutely no problem. I am counting on you to deal with my arch-nemesis once you become the Eastern Inspectorate. Why would I not do my utmost for you?”
Affected by her gravity, Zhang Zihe nodded solemnly. “Then, I’m going?”
“Go!” Qiao Wan cheered him on.
Zhang Zihe stood up, walked slowly to the door, then turned back. “Then, I’m really going?”
Watching his pathetic display, Qiao Wan nearly burst out laughing. He kept looking back like a man walking to the executioner’s block.
Where was this hesitation when you were squaring off against Luo Fengxin that day?
Of course, she kept that to herself. Zhang Zihe was a classic bully who feared the strong; he had only been arrogant that day because he mistook Luo Fengxin for a “soft persimmon.” If he had known she was a hard nail, he would have run faster than anyone.
“Go! And remember to pick a time when Commander Zheng isn’t home!” Qiao Wan gave him one final push.
Zhang Zihe stood there agonizing for another moment until Qiao Wan reminded him that “time waits for no one.” Finally, he hurried off to prepare.
Back home, Zhang Zihe paced his room in a fit of anxiety. He had suppressed his fear of offending Zheng Wei, but one question remained: What should he give Lady Chen?
His family wasn’t as wealthy as the Duke of Ning’s house. When everyone was in decline, the difference was negligible, but now that the Ning manor was flourishing again, things were awkward.
A gift too light would be insulting; a gift too heavy, well, even if he could afford it, he needed to save money to bribe the Empress Dowager and Grand Preceptor Chen later. If he emptied the family coffers now, what would he do afterward?
“Young Master, it’s time for dinner,” a voice called from the door. It was the young page, A-Mao.
“Go away! I’m frustrated! I’m not eating!”
“You’ve been locked in there all afternoon,” another servant, A-Biao, chimed in. “If something is bothering you, tell us. We can help you brainstorm.”
Zhang Zihe was annoyed, but he knew these men were likely acting on his mother’s orders. If he didn’t open the door, they would keep pestering him until nightfall.
Then again, I could make them help.
He hadn’t asked Qiao Wan because he didn’t want an outsider to know the Marquis’s estate was struggling, but he didn’t have to hide that from his own servants.
He opened the door and summoned all the servants in his courtyard.
Thanks to his lecherous cousin, Zhang Zihe’s mother had removed all the maidservants from his quarters to prevent him from “straying.” In their place were nothing but burly, thick-set men. Even the young A-Mao was growing in that direction; at thirteen, while other pages were delicate and fair, A-Mao looked like a thirty-year-old midget. He had aged far too prematurely.
After two years, Zhang Zihe still wasn’t used to it. He could tolerate it at home, but every time he came back from a stroll outside, the sight of them was an eyesore.
Still, he had to endure. He fancied himself less shallow than his cousin; as long as the servants were useful, their gender didn’t matter.
Once everyone arrived, he closed the door and gathered them into a small circle. “Ahem. I want to give someone a gift, but I don’t know what’s appropriate. Give me your thoughts.”
The servants, surprised that such a question had troubled him all afternoon, looked at each other blankly. They assumed the recipient must be someone very important.
“Young Master, is the gift for a man or a woman?” A-Biao asked.
“A woman,” Zhang Zihe replied.
A woman! It’s a lover! No wonder he’s so stressed!
The servants had an “aha” moment and began shouting suggestions: fans, silk, jewelry.
Zhang Zihe couldn’t take it anymore and smacked each of them on the head. “What are you thinking? She’s married!”
He didn’t want them to know he was currying favor with Lady Chen—partly because it was embarrassing, and partly because if a big mouth told his cousin, he’d be in deep trouble.
But being too vague wasn’t helping. He added, “Her family and her husband’s family are very wealthy. She won’t care for ordinary trinkets. Think harder.”
The servants rubbed their heads, exchanging looks of shock and concern (except for young A-Mao).
Heavens! The Young Master is pursuing a married woman from a powerful family!
This was thorny. They didn’t dare ask directly, and being “subtle” wasn’t a skill these brutes possessed. After a round of frantic eye contact, they pushed the cleverest one, A-Biao, forward again.
A-Biao thought for a moment. Since the master wouldn’t say who it was, he clearly didn’t want them to guess. He played along, trying to stay calm. “Does the Young Master know what this lady likes?”
Likes?
Zhang Zihe racked his brain. He couldn’t think of much, except for the rumors that she was involved with her own father-in-law. Since that scandal broke, she seemed to have abandoned all restraint, carrying on affairs with people inside and outside the manor. Her appetite for men was a perfect match for her husband’s appetite for women.
Hearing Zhang Zihe’s vague description of her “hobbies,” the servants’ expressions became even more complex.
Not only is he chasing a married woman, he’s chasing a notoriously wanton one!
“How about this,” A-Biao suggested suddenly. “Why don’t you give her that manor on the south side of the city? From what you’ve said, this lady likes to enjoy herself, and it’s surely inconvenient to do so in her own home.”
A-Biao was thinking that the manor would be a perfect place for Zhang Zihe to have his trysts. Zhang Zihe, however, thought that if Lady Chen wanted to keep some “male companions,” the manor would be very convenient indeed. Giving a house was far more sophisticated than giving a boytoy; it saved everyone’s pride.
Though their definitions of “convenience” differed, they reached the same conclusion.
“Good! That’s it!” Zhang Zihe declared. The southern estate had been gifted to him by his late grandfather and was already in his name, making the transfer easy. Combined with some jewelry, it should be enough.
Relieved, Zhang Zihe let out a long breath and warned them, “None of you are to mention this to my mother, understood?”
The servants nodded vigorously, promising to keep the secret.
The next morning, Zhang Zihe took the title deed and his silver to finalize the paperwork. The land in the southern suburbs included a large tract of farmland in addition to the manor. Reluctant to give it all to Chen Huiru, he partitioned the land and kept the fields, gifting only the house.
He then went to purchase several pieces of fine jewelry. By the time everything was ready, it was already afternoon—fortunately, there was still time before Zheng Wei would return home.
Zhang Zihe packed the gifts into a box and headed to the Ning Estate, claiming he had urgent matters to discuss with his second cousin once the latter returned home. Seeing as he was a relative, the servants did not bar his entry and simply went to inform the Master of the house.
Zheng Baorong came out to exchange a few perfunctory pleasantries. Before long, he excused himself on the pretext of business, leaving Zhang Zihe to his own devices—which was exactly what Zhang Zihe wanted. He eagerly agreed, looking for any excuse to slip away and find his cousin-in-law.
Once Zheng Baorong had departed, Zhang Zihe immediately sought out Chen Huiru. Upon seeing his lavish gifts, she was delighted. When he explained his request, she agreed without hesitation, even scoffing that he was right to come to her. “What use is that spineless cousin of yours in a matter like this?” She remarked.
Playing along, Zhang Zihe voiced his own disdain for Zheng Wei and showered Chen Huiru with extravagant flattery.
With the deal struck, all that remained was to head home and wait for the good news.
Zhang Zihe strolled out of the Ning Estate with a light, airy step, completely unaware that a pair of eyes was fixed firmly on his retreating back.
Ever since that explosive argument with Chen Huiru, Zheng Wei had suddenly rediscovered the charms of Pei Shuang. Lately, he had been spending most of his nights in her quarters.
Following a recent bout of intimacy, Pei Shuang took advantage of Zheng Wei’s good mood. She confessed her fear that Chen Huiru might try to harm her while he was away. Finding her concerns reasonable, Zheng Wei rented a small, private courtyard for her and moved her out of the main estate.
Now, Pei Shuang stood at a street corner, staring expressionlessly at the gates of the Ning Estate. As soon as she saw Zhang Zihe emerge, she retreated back into the shadows of the alley and hurried toward her new residence.
Outside her courtyard, Qiao Wan was sitting beneath the shade of a tree by a flowerbed. Seeing her approach, Qiao Wan smiled and offered a small wave.
“Lady Pei.”
“Censor Qiao.”
Pei Shuang bowed. She was not surprised by Qiao Wan’s presence; during their last meeting, Qiao Wan had told her that the day Zhang Zihe arrived at the Ning Estate with his gifts would be the day her vengeance began.
Following Qiao Wan’s instructions, she had coaxed Zheng Wei into letting her move here, and since then, she had spent every day watching the estate gates.
Before, she had lived like the walking dead, her heart as cold as ash and her hope for revenge extinguished. But half a month ago, the person standing before her now had found her and promised a way to make those two pay the price.
Since that day, she felt as though she had been jolted back to life. Yet, it was precisely because she was “alive” again that the agony felt sharper; these last two weeks had felt like a lifetime. Finally, the day had arrived.
“There is no need for such formality, Miss Pei.” Qiao Wan stood up, brushing off her robes. She looked at Pei Shuang and said, “I am here to fulfill my promise. Let us go and get your revenge.”