Yan Ci was worried that Yan Zigui might say something shocking again.
Fortunately, nothing happened while the guests were at the house.
He let out a long sigh. Mrs. Song told him it was good they had set up small tables in advance; otherwise, the sisters’ arguments would have caused trouble. The concubine’s birthday mood was low, but everyone pretended everything was fine.
“No matter how difficult, this will only happen once,” Yan Ci shook his head. “When father and mother return, if she wants to celebrate her birthday again, that won’t be our concern.”
The Yan household’s concubines and house management were already a messy matter; no one was completely innocent.
Even though the day wasn’t over, the events had made the couple feel exhausted, as if the day lasted forever. Yan Ci smiled and asked Mrs. Song for a cup of this year’s new tea to relax.
Mrs. Song rolled his eyes at him but didn’t stop him.
It had been a long time since they could sit down and enjoy tea together.
Unfortunately, their brief moment of relaxation ended quickly. A maid reported that someone in Luomei Hall was feeling unwell and had called a doctor.
The couple sighed and looked at each other, then got up to check the hall.
As they arrived, Yan Zigui came in even faster than the doctor.
She wasn’t wearing her Taoist robe, but she carried a duster in her hand.
Yan Ci frowned. “Why are you holding that again?”
“I calculated that my birth chart conflicts with the concubine’s. My presence would affect her health—minor effects cause irritability, major ones could make her sick,” Yan Zigui said seriously. “The concubine is indeed unwell. It’s all my fault.”
Mo Huan, half genuinely worried, half pretending, was lying inside. She hadn’t even started speaking when she heard Yan Zigui say this. She quietly pounded the bed in frustration—this girl pressed forward at every step, leaving no gap.
“For the concubine’s health, I should stay elsewhere,” Yan Zigui said sincerely. The Yan mansion was unfamiliar to her; she wasn’t used to living there. “I’ll stay at a Taoist temple. It’s more comfortable and familiar. I can pray for the concubine’s health and long life.”
Yan Ci looked at her. “This is your home. What’s bothering you that you want to leave all the time?”
Yan Zigui sighed lightly. “If I leave first, it looks better than being forced to leave later.”
“Who’s forcing you to leave?”
Tears seemed to form in her eyes. “The concubine is sick. If I leave, she might get better. Father would agree too, wouldn’t he?”
After all, he had asked her to compromise.
Yan Ci was speechless. Mo Huan nudged Rao Xue-niang to go explain outside; otherwise, it would seem she was pretending to be sick to force someone out, even though she hadn’t started yet.
“Big Miss, you’re joking. That’s not true,” Rao Xue-niang said. “The concubine has an old condition. She always feels unwell after a feast. It has nothing to do with you.”
“Conflict by birth chart? That’s nonsense.”
“Really?” Yan Zigui asked. “Since it has nothing to do with me, don’t blame me later. But I’ll still read a purification scripture for her, just to feel at ease.”
Yan Zigui waved the duster and paced indoors, chanting a cleansing spell. The doctor came in, looking alarmed—this was for serious illness, asking the gods for help.
He took her pulse. It was normal. She wasn’t sick at all.
He looked at Mo Huan hesitantly. Did the concubine need to pretend to be sick?
“Tell the truth,” Mo Huan said. She felt uneasy hearing Yan Zigui chanting. “Say I’m fine, and send everyone outside. Don’t disturb my rest.”
The doctor reported that the old concubine was just tired, nothing serious. She only needed proper rest.
Yan Zigui finished chanting. She rested her duster on her elbow, lowering her head and closing her eyes. “Amitabha Buddha.”
“Since the concubine is fine, everyone can leave,” Yan Ci said.
Rao Xue-niang came in and out again. “The concubine said she still feels unwell and doesn’t want visitors starting tomorrow.”
Yan Zigui smiled strangely, as if saying a concubine could really act like the old mistress, but she didn’t speak it aloud, making those who were embarrassed even more uncomfortable.
If she didn’t say anything, Yan Zigui wouldn’t have come.
If she didn’t come, it would be interesting to see whether the ignorant younger siblings could continue treating Mo Huan like the proper grandmother.
“Since the doctor is here, Da Lang, take her back to see your wife. Don’t tire her out,” Mrs. Song instructed. Ding Miaoshuang, who had been resting due to pregnancy, had been present since morning.
Yesterday, after Yan Zigui pressed two acupoints, Ding Miaoshuang didn’t vomit as badly. Today, gossip from early morning kept her mind occupied, so she hadn’t thought about vomiting.
Now that she was called, she checked herself and realized the nausea had disappeared. She said happily, “The younger miss is truly my lucky star. Now that she’s back, I don’t feel sick anymore.”
“My baby in the belly must be like the older cousin.”
Yan Zigui smiled at her.
Ding Miaoshuang reached out and held Yan Zigui’s hand. Seeing her made her happy—the two women got along warmly.
Mrs. Song paused briefly. This eldest daughter-in-law had been sharp when she first entered the house, but pregnancy had made her a little oblivious.
Now wasn’t the time for that. Only a few people truly liked Yan Zigui in this house.
Yan Zigui and Ding Miaoshuang walked ahead, with Yan Shiwen following. At a fork in the road, the two were about to separate. Yan Shiwen said, “Your sister-in-law likes you. Spend time with her and talk when you can.”
“The Yan family has always been harmonious. Since you’ve hit the mark, just behave and don’t cause trouble. Showing off your sharpness isn’t good for you either.”
“Just listen to the first part, ignore the rest. Men don’t understand women’s matters,” Ding Miaoshuang nudged Yan Zigui, letting her go first to avoid listening to her brother’s nonsense.
After Yan Zigui disappeared from view, Ding Miaoshuang pouted at her husband. “You’re the eldest brother, yet all these years, you’ve never really cared for her. Who gave you the right to lecture her?”
“Today, you haven’t understood her eloquence. Do you need her scolding you to realize your mistake?”
“I’m only doing it for her good.”
“Give her some real reward. Talking nonsense only annoys people,” Ding Miaoshuang said, rubbing her belly. “She cured my morning sickness. You should thank her. Don’t bully her.”
“Bully her? I can’t bully anyone,” Yan Shiwen shook his head.
Yan Zigui wasn’t aggressive; she wasn’t always looking for a fight.
Luomei Hall was quiet, and she was calm. Every day she did morning rituals, then went to the main hall to pay respects to Mrs. Song. Yan Zhenying was always there, and everyone said Mrs. Song treated the second young lady like his own daughter.
Everyone expected Yan Zigui to be angry, but she was calm and didn’t complain to Yan Zhenying.
Yan Zhenying cautiously invited her to learn household management.
Yan Zigui politely declined. “I’m inexperienced. I can’t handle such delicate work.”
Yan Zhenying thought that sounded strange, but didn’t know how to argue. If she didn’t know how, wouldn’t that be the reason to learn? She looked to Mrs. Song for help.
Mrs. Song understood she didn’t want to learn and didn’t force her. “If she doesn’t want to, then she doesn’t. Don’t bother her.”
“Tomorrow, go with me to your uncle’s house,” Mrs. Song told Yan Zigui.