Chapter 9 – Teaching Old Mansion’s Wang Ma a Lesson at 4 a.m.

Zhang, the special assistant, still had bits of fresh grass stuck to the trousers of his suit, his head practically buried in his chest.

Had he known President Qin would press him for details, he would rather have scared himself to death than twist his ankle and fall, exposing the anomaly to Qin in the first place.

“Madam said…”

In a few short sentences, he blurted out everything about Madam Shu Hui’s conversation with Nanny Liu.

Then, pretending to play dead, he kept his head low, dreading that Qin had heard it all: first, Madam calling him mute, then calling him dirty stuff…

Zhang had already thought through the entire resignation process on the OA system.

Qin Yu-shen paused mid-stride on his way to the Bamboo Lodge, then abruptly turned and headed for the estate gates instead.

Zhang trailed anxiously after him. “President Qin, you… aren’t you going to give Madam her gift?”

“Who said it was for her? I just bought extras at the auction.”

“……”

---

At four o’clock the next morning, before even a hint of dawn, only a few faint stars still clung to the sky.

Inside the Bamboo Lodge, where Shu Hui and her daughter lived, the master bedroom door was pounded on furiously, the booming rattles shaking the whole frame.

“Young Madam! Eldest Young Madam! Please wake up!!!”

“Young Madam! Eldest Young Madam! Please—”

The door opened. Shu Hui stood there, face still heavy with sleep, brows drawn tight enough to kill a mosquito.

Blinking her drowsy eyes, she saw it was Wang Ma, the servant always hanging about Madam Lian Minfang.

Her voice was sharp with irritation: “Four a.m.… Instead of sleeping, you’re out here pounding on doors like a lunatic. Do you have some sort of mental illness?”

Wang Ma’s old face stiffened, stern and officious: “Please come to the main residence to serve Madam her breakfast. It is the duty of Qin family’s eldest daughter-in-law.”

Serving someone breakfast at four in the morning—she wouldn’t do it even if Madam were an empress dowager.

Still groggy, Shu Hui reflected on herself.

In her previous life, just how stupid had she been, bewitched somehow, to endure Minfang and this bossy servant for a full five years?

Shu Hui jabbed her finger straight toward Wang Ma’s face. The woman jerked back in fright, narrowly dodging—her eyeballs nearly poked out.

“You… watch your manners!” Wang Ma cried, fuming.

“I don’t know any manners. My mother spoiled me, so why should I come to the Qin family to have yours forced on me?”

Shu Hui lifted her gaze, eyes sharp with impatience.

Her brows arched as she spoke in a soft, gentle voice that nonetheless made the night air chill:

“If you dare bang on my door again, I’ll cut out your tongue and feed it to the dogs.”

“You—you—” Wang Ma stumbled back several steps, too shocked to even swallow her saliva.

Just what sort of background did this woman have in the mainland, to dare say such things?

Was she a bandit, a gangster…?

Why was she so intimidating, able to silence her with a single sentence?

Wang Ma racked her brains. Other than Old Master Qin and Qin Yu-shen, the family knew little about Shu Hui.

It was said she came from a single-parent household in the mainland, her mother running a tiny noodle shop—hardly high-class. She had supposedly trapped the eldest young master with pregnancy, hoping to latch onto the Qin family…

What guts could a noodle-shop girl possibly have? Most likely just empty bluster.

Buoyed by this thought, Wang Ma tilted her nose up again.

“Young Madam, stop quibbling. No one dares defy Madam’s orders. Don’t try that noodle-shop shrew’s temper here—it won’t work in the Qin family.”

“Oh?” Shu Hui narrowed her eyes at that last remark. “Then let’s see exactly how it doesn’t work.”

She turned toward Nanny Liu standing outside, along with several other maids roused by the commotion.

“Find a rope. Tie her up.”

Wang Ma couldn’t believe her ears. She was here on Madam’s orders—how dare Shu Hui treat her this way?

But the maids moved immediately. They grabbed her, pressed her down, and despite her curses and struggles, she was no match.

Liu fetched a coarse hemp rope from the storeroom, and in a few swift moves, tied Wang Ma to the stair railing.

Furious, Wang Ma spat curses: “Let me go, you bunch of useless sluts, following that little bitch’s orders! Aren’t you afraid of angering Madam—”

“Slap her,” Shu Hui said softly.

Liu obeyed without hesitation, striking left and right until Wang Ma’s cheeks turned red and swollen.

“Mmmphhh!!” Wang Ma whimpered in pain, still trying to curse.

“Gag her,” Shu Hui ordered.

A towel was stuffed into Wang Ma’s mouth, neatly done. Liu even thoughtfully left her nostrils clear so she wouldn’t suffocate.

“Good. Everyone back to bed.”

“Yes, Young Madam.”

Wang Ma glared at them with eyes full of hatred. The Bamboo Lodge maids would now bear her grudge, but they knew who paid their wages. They were Shu Hui’s people—they couldn’t afford to waffle between sides.

Shu Hui shut the bedroom door again. Glancing at her daughter sleeping soundly in the crib, she collapsed back into bed herself.

The tongue-cutting threat had only been to scare Wang Ma—she had just watched some palace dramas before bed, where consorts always said such things.

But the woman didn’t know when to quit, kept pestering until Shu Hui lost patience.

If a problem could be solved with action, Shu Hui never wasted words.

---

By eight in the morning, the autumn breeze carried fallen leaves into the estate, and the sun had just risen.

In the main residence’s breakfast room—

“Was it really her doing?” Lian Minfang asked in disbelief.

Tear-streaked, Wang Ma sobbed, “Madam, every word is true. Look at my face, the swelling hasn’t even gone down! She even threatened to cut out my tongue. The eldest young madam is far too arrogant—she completely disregards your authority!”

Lian Minfang was so furious she couldn’t swallow another bite of her bird’s nest porridge. With a clatter, her spoon struck the bowl.

She had merely told Shu Hui to join her for breakfast. Yet the woman refused to get up, and even abused the servants—what rebellion was this!

Yesterday Yu-shen had come home briefly, then left again, never even stepping into the Bamboo Lodge, not even delivering the jewelry.

Minfang had wondered about it—had they argued, or was it simply that Yu-shen disliked Shu Hui all along, and her assumption of favoritism was wrong?

She puzzled over it half the night. With Wang Ma egging her on, she decided to summon Shu Hui in the morning to both clarify matters and teach her some rules.

But instead, the daughter-in-law wouldn’t even show her face!

“Go! Call her again! I want to see if she dares raise her hand in front of me!”

Minfang snapped. “Bring more people—if you have to carry her, do it!”

Before she could finish, footsteps sounded outside the dining room.

Shu Hui walked in slowly, past the large porcelain vase, calm and unhurried. Dressed in a simple ramie dress, vintage and elegant.

“No need to trouble yourselves. Madam, were you looking for me?” Her tone was gentle, but her presence betrayed not the slightest timidity—only composure.

Madam…

So formal, not even calling her mother-in-law.

Lian Minfang was momentarily choked, stirring her porridge with her spoon.

After a pause, regaining a bit of spirit, she looked up coldly.

“I sent Wang Ma to fetch you. What’s this I hear? You dared order people to beat her, even threatened to cut out her tongue? Our Qin family servants are hired under formal contracts—not like your mainland feudal nonsense.”

Shu Hui sat down casually across from her. “Madam, you’d better mind your words. Mainland, Hong Kong, Macao, and Taiwan are all part of China. Don’t let such things slip out again.”

The Qin family had always been a patriotic enterprise aligned with the red faith.

Minfang’s hand trembled, quickly clarifying: “I didn’t mean it that way, I just spoke too fast. Don’t twist it to avoid admitting your mistake!”

“Mistake?” Shu Hui smiled.

“I don’t see what I did wrong. Anyone woken at four a.m. would have no patience. Wang Ma refused to be reasonable, spewed insults—it was no different from asking for a beating. I simply granted her wish. Perfectly reasonable.”

“Four a.m.? What’s going on?”