Chapter 4

Ma Chunlan never expected her next encounter with Jiang Wanrou to be under such circumstances. She had been locked up in the woodshed for an entire day and night without a drop of water, looking disheveled and pale like a ghost.

Ma Chunlan came from generations of skilled pastry chefs whose desserts were soft, flavorful, and not overly sweet. In the entire capital, few could rival her craftsmanship. She was a free citizen, not a servant of low status, and her life was often more comfortable than that of overlooked daughters from noble households.

Even the Lady before her, the commander’s wife, had to call her “Aunt Ma” out of respect back in the day.

Five years ago, she narrowly escaped death, surviving by the skin of her teeth. After enduring lashes from the whip at the Minister’s residence and a day and night in captivity, all traces of Ma Chunlan’s arrogance had vanished. Now, she dared not raise her eyes to look at Jiang Wanrou seated above her. Upon entering, she immediately fell to her knees with a loud “thud,” tears streaming down her face as she begged for mercy.

The sobbing and whining made Jiang Wanrou’s headache worse. She set down the copy of Criminal Law in her hands and calmly recited, “Those who steal property valued at less than ten coins will be punished with ten strikes; for amounts exceeding ten coins, thirty strikes and one year of exile; for amounts exceeding one hundred coins, fifty strikes and three years of exile, plus hard labor in banishment.”

“For those with exceptionally malicious intent or causing grave harm, capital punishment shall be imposed to uphold justice and order.”

Though Jiang Wanrou spoke softly, her words were crisp and clear, especially emphasizing the term “capital punishment.” Ma Chunlan’s corpulent figure visibly recoiled, her crying ceasing immediately.

With an impassive expression, Jiang Wanrou lowered her gaze and said, “I will give you one incense stick’s time. Think carefully and then speak.”

At this moment, officials from the previous dynasty were living in constant fear, doing everything they could to curry favor with Commander Lu. A few days ago, an official sent a theater troupe, claiming the performers were famous Jiangnan opera stars. Their voices, melodious like orioles in a valley, deeply delighted Jiang Wanrou. She had planned to enjoy a new play today—a perfect afternoon—rather than wasting her precious time on this criminal woman.

Ma Chunlan wiped her face, fully aware of why she was allowed to keep her life this time. She no longer dared to act arrogant and cried out: “Sixth Miss, back then, you were wronged—”

She paused for a moment, then couldn’t help but steal a glance upward. Instantly, her eyes widened.

This… is this really Sixth Miss? Her memory of the Sixth Miss of the Marquis’ household was of someone true to her name—gentle and soft, slender and frail, always bowing her head and blending into the crowd of noble daughters, utterly unremarkable.

Yet now, the woman seated in a position of authority was radiant and elegant, her fair and plump skin so white it seemed to glow. She no longer hid behind thick bangs, revealing a smooth, polished forehead. Her expressive eyes sparkled, captivating but not overly coquettish, exuding an almost otherworldly charm. She could easily be mistaken for a divine goddess.

Ma Chunlan stared at her in a daze, both stunned and bewildered.

“Half an incense stick.”

Jiang Wanrou let out a loud “clang” as she threw the book Criminal Law in front of Ma Chunlan and said coldly, “My patience is limited. If you can’t say what I want to hear, go see the magistrate.”

Having spent years as the household’s mistress and frequently entering the imperial palace, Jiang Wanrou was no longer the timid Sixth Miss who used to be submissive around her stepmother. With her calm and authoritative demeanor, she radiated an innate power that did not require anger to instill fear. Ma Chunlan shivered with fright, quickly averting her gaze and stammering, “Yes, yes. I am guilty, I will speak.”

“Back then, I was praised by the Madam Marquis for my pear blossom pastries. That day, during the Old Madam’s birthday celebration, I went to deliver pastries to the Third Miss and overheard…”

Five years ago, the eldest daughter of the Jiang family, Jiang Wanxue, was betrothed to the eldest son of the Lu family, Lu Feng. As the “future son-in-law” of the Jiang family, Lu Feng attended the birthday celebration, but things took a scandalous turn when he, drunk and disoriented, ended up on the same couch with Jiang Wanrou, his fiancée’s younger sister. The incident caused a major uproar and became the subject of much gossip at the time.

Who is Lu Feng? He is the eldest legitimate son of Duke Lu, raised alongside the princes, holding an esteemed status and a steady temperament, and is renowned in the capital for his upstanding character. He was so disciplined that he didn’t even keep a personal maidservant. How could he suddenly commit such a scandalous act, especially at an event like this?

The eldest son of the Lu family also spent two years training in the military camp, bonding with soldiers like brothers and drinking strong liquor from large porcelain bowls. So, how could he have gotten drunk on a mere cup of Hongnv’er wine?

Almost everyone speculated that Lu Feng was set up—and the prime suspect was Jiang Wanrou.

This belief was solidified when Jiang Wanrou was directly brought into the Lu household as the official wife. The marriage between the Jiang and Lu families was already seen as the Jiang family’s attempt to climb the social ladder, as the Lu family was of higher rank, being dukes, whereas the Jiang family were merely marquises. At the time, Duke Lu was still alive and was the emperor’s most trusted minister, wielding significant power. In contrast, the Jiang family was part of the former dynasty’s court and retained their noble title only through imperial grace—a shadow of their former glory.

Even the legitimate daughter of the Jiang family was considered to be marrying above her station, so how could a mere concubine-born daughter possibly compare? Lu Feng himself was handsome and dignified, and by any measure of propriety, Jiang Wanrou benefited from the situation. Her mother had once been a courtesan, and some claimed the phrase “like mother, like daughter,” implying Jiang Wanrou’s nature was indecent and unworthy of public esteem.

No one understood Jiang Wanrou’s sense of injustice better than she herself. At the time of the incident, she thought she wouldn’t survive. Only after marrying into the Duke’s household did she realize the truth—by then, her elder sister Jiang Wanxue had already become Princess Consort Gong.

Lu Feng had always been cautious—he wouldn’t casually wander around the Marquis’ residence unless he fully trusted the person who led him there.

Unfortunately, by the time Jiang Wanrou pieced it together, Jiang Wanxue had already become a prince’s consort. Jiang Wanrou was left with a ruined reputation. Before Jiang Wanxue rose to her title, no one suspected her intentions. To outsiders, marrying Lu Feng was seen as Jiang Wanxue’s extraordinary fortune. Only a fool would push her husband away.

After Jiang Wanxue became a princess consort, some found the situation suspicious, but no one dared to speak openly about it. Later, Lu Feng broke his leg and became moody and unpredictable. The Lu family was plagued with issues involving aunts, mothers-in-law, and sisters-in-law. Then came the death of the Duke, pregnancy, and childbirth—Jiang Wanrou was too exhausted to chase after an intangible reputation.

Besides, she didn’t live her life for outsiders. As long as Lu Feng trusted her, that was enough. Lu Feng wasn’t foolish; he knew exactly how he drank the spiked wine and who led him to the side room. Jiang Wanrou even suspected that Lu Feng’s willingness to marry her as his wife might have been a deliberate move to humiliate Jiang Wanxue.

…

The past was the past. Jiang Wanrou rarely thought about it and never considered clearing her name. After all, Jiang Wanxue was now a high-ranking princess consort—what could she possibly do? Instead, Jiang Wanrou used the incident to gain sympathy from Lu Feng a few times. Lu Feng personally punished several noblewomen by cutting out their tongues, turning the matter into a taboo in the capital. Nowadays, few dare to bring it up.

What Ma Chunlan said was almost identical to what Jiang Wanrou already knew. She listened absentmindedly—it was nothing more than her elder sister climbing to a higher social branch while avoiding a tarnished reputation by scheming to embarrass her fiancé during their Old Madam’s birthday celebration.

“Wait a moment?” Jiang Wanrou suddenly straightened up, furrowing her brows. “You’re saying Jiang Wanxue originally intended to lead Ying’er to the side room?”

Ma Chunlan stammered nervously, “Yes, I heard it clearly! The Third Miss personally told Ying’er that if this plan succeeded, she would take Ying’er as part of her dowry and bring her to the Duke’s household as a concubine.”

Ying’er was the senior maidservant of the Madam Marquis. In prominent families, women often brought a few maidservants with them upon marriage to maintain their husband’s favor during inconvenient times and prevent outside temptations. Given Lu Feng’s handsome appearance and noble status, Ying’er would have been more than willing. But why did it end up being Jiang Wanrou instead?

Jiang Wanrou recalled that day vividly—she had just finished her cycle and was feeling unwell, huddled quietly in a corner and avoiding any contact with alcohol. Then, a maid accidentally spilled a bowl of rice wine dumplings on her skirt, prompting her to go to the side room to change.

She had always assumed that the maid worked for Jiang Wanxue!

“Are you speaking the truth?” Jiang Wanrou stared intently at Ma Chunlan, her expression suddenly softening into a smile as she said, “I’m just a mere woman; if you try to deceive me, fine. But this matter is tied to people of great importance—the princess consort and… the commander.”

“If you don’t tell the truth, you’ll have to face the Jinglong Bureau. But I wonder whether your old bones can withstand its brutal methods.”

The Jinglong Bureau was notorious for its cruelty—even the most hardened men would tremble at its name. Ma Chunlan turned pale with fear and swore on her life that she was telling the truth. Seeing Jiang Wanrou remain silent, Ma Chunlan began kowtowing furiously until the floor tiles beneath her were stained red with blood.

“Take her away,” Jiang Wanrou ordered loudly. Two stout women entered and dragged Ma Chunlan out.

Cui Zhu, unaware of what had transpired inside, asked, “Madam, should we hand this wicked woman over to the authorities?”

Jiang Wanrou thought for a moment and replied, “Lock her in the woodshed for now. Make sure she doesn’t die.”

“Wait until the master returns… No, don’t tell the master about this for now.”

Perhaps Jiang Wanrou’s expression was too grim, as Cui Zhu refrained from asking further questions. After the women locked Ma Chunlan in the woodshed, Cui Zhu wandered into the small kitchen and brought Jiang Wanrou a bowl of dark, bitter medicinal soup.

This was a remedy Lu Feng had specially obtained from the palace, said to increase a woman’s chances of conceiving if consumed after intimacy. Jiang Wanrou had been drinking it for three years, yet her belly showed no signs of pregnancy. She glanced at the bowl of bitter medicinal soup and remarked, “I’ve been drinking this for so long with no results. It must be the work of a quack.”

The medicine was a constant routine, and if she fainted like she did last night, Cui Zhu would bring it to her the next day. She never managed to escape from drinking it—even though it was unbearably bitter.

Cui Zhu insisted that bitter medicine brings good health, but Jiang Wanrou grew tired of her persuasion and ordered her to set the medicine aside for now and fetch the account books from the shop outside. This distraction caused Jiang Wanrou to lose her interest in entertainment, so she spent the entire afternoon sorting through the account books with an abacus.

As for the cooled bowl of bitter medicine, she poured it entirely onto the orchid grass by the window, leaving the bowl spotless.

Because of the matter with Ma Chunlan, Jiang Wanrou had been distracted for the past few days. She had initially intended to bury this old and unpleasant affair in her heart forever. What good would it do to bring it to light? It wasn’t exactly a glorious tale. Now firmly established as the mistress of the household, there was no need for unnecessary complications.

However, she was also acutely aware that Ma Chunlan was likely not lying.

Doesn’t this mean someone had schemed against her all those years ago?

According to Ma Chunlan, Jiang Wanxue had orchestrated the incident with Lu Feng, planning to have him disgrace himself by taking liberties with a maid from the Jiang household during the Old Madam’s birthday celebration. The Marquis’ residence could then easily annul the engagement. But something had gone awry—Ying’er never showed up.

Her dress had been stained, and Ying’er, the maid, had abandoned her chance to climb the social ladder. The coincidence of these two events was no mere accident!

With her awkward social position, Jiang Wanrou had always secretly planned her moves carefully. Now, knowing that someone had plotted against her, and that while she was in the open, they remained hidden, she felt like she was sitting on pins and needles.

Who could it be? Aside from that incident five years ago, what else might they have tampered with? What kind of grudge could have existed between them? And would this hidden enemy strike again in the future?

Jiang Wanrou’s personality was always cautious—she would plan three steps ahead to avoid any risks. After contemplating for a few days, she decided to return to the Marquis’ residence and search for clues about the past.

As it happened, Lu Feng returned home earlier than usual that day and was in a good mood. During dinner, Jiang Wanrou casually mentioned her intentions. Lu Feng’s gaze flickered slightly as he looked steadily at her and said warmly, “Return to the Marquis’ residence? Madam, has someone been feeding you nonsense?”