A Provocative Return

“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Chun Rong feigned confusion, frowning.
“As Madam’s dowry maid, I belong here.”
“Even without her orders, I’d enter this manor.”
The words eight-lift sedan struck Wu Que like a nerve.
They reminded him of his glowing shame.
Imagining Xie Jiu in the palace, charming Zhao Xingjin with a warmth she never showed him, Wu Que’s humiliation surged.
Fury blazed in his eyes.
True, he’d planned to drug her with aphrodisiacs and send her to the Emperor.
But in his mind, her willing betrayal was a defiance of his authority.
It stripped him of dignity.
Losing all reason, he roared, “Vile maid!”
“Forget your proper marriage!”
“Xie is shameless, immoral, a disgrace to virtue!”
“She deserves to be flayed and drowned!”
“Where is she? Why doesn’t she face me?”
His face twisted, veins bulging.

A Bold Retort

Chun Rong’s heart skipped, but she recalled Xie Jiu’s instructions.
Quickly, she steadied herself.
“Lord, watch your words!”
“The Emperor himself praised Madam as virtuous and learned.”
“That’s why she’s the Princess’s tutor.”
“Is the Emperor blind?”
“Slandering her without proof—are you venting or defying His Majesty?”
Her sharp accusation silenced Wu Que.
His face shifted from pale to livid, speechless.
Seeing his suppressed rage, Chun Rong felt a thrill.
Bowing slightly, she said, “I’m here to fetch calligraphy books.”
“I must return to the palace.”
Pointing to a food box, she added, “These pastries are from Chengming Palace’s kitchen.”
“Madam liked them and sent them for you.”
“If she heard your words, she’d be heartbroken.”
“Don’t speak recklessly, Lord.”
With that, she moved to leave.

A Dangerous Impulse

The words Chengming Palace stabbed Wu Que’s pride.
Rage surged, his eyes dark with malice.
Chasing after Chun Rong, he shouted, “Insolent maid!”
“Who are you to lecture me?”
“Today, I’ll tear you apart!”
“Seize her and beat her!”
Burning with anger, he targeted Chun Rong.
He couldn’t touch Xie Jiu, but a maid? Surely he could.
As the steward and servants rushed forward, Chun Rong shouted, “Who dares!”
“The Emperor tasked Madam with teaching the Princess.”
“I’m here on her orders!”
“Touch me, and you defy her—and the Emperor!”
“You’re no authority!” Wu Que roared, livid.
Undaunted, Chun Rong glared back.
“If I don’t return unharmed, you’ll answer for it!”
“Can you bear the consequences?”

A Forced Restraint

Her words pierced Wu Que’s chest.
Never had a maid, Xie Jiu’s no less, dared challenge him.
Yet her threat doused his fury with cold reality.
He couldn’t risk offending the palace.
Teeth grinding, fists clenched, he stood frozen.
Finally, he hissed, “Get out!”
Chun Rong smirked, bowing.
“Don’t forget the pastries, Lord.”
“They’re Madam’s thoughtfulness.”
“She misses you from the palace.”
Calmly, she left.
Behind her, Wu Que stared at the food box.
Choking on rage, he nearly fainted.
Gasping, he flipped the table, shattering everything.
Chun Rong, hearing the crash, grinned.
She hurried back to the palace.

A Playful Exchange

Chun Rong returned, finding Xie Jiu still playing chess with Zhao Xingjin.
“Well, you’re back in one piece,” Zhao Xingjin teased.
“A clever girl.”
Chun Rong bowed properly.
“Rise,” he said casually, then asked, “How’s the Marquis?”
Glancing at Xie Jiu for a nod, Chun Rong replied, “He seemed upset, Your Majesty.”
“The pastries Madam sent went untouched.”
“Hard to swallow?” Zhao Xingjin quipped, amused.
Xie Jiu placed a chess piece.
“His temper’s hot, his stomach’s weak,” she said.
“Some cooling pills would help.”
Looking up, she smiled at Zhao Xingjin.
“May I boldly ask for a remedy from the Imperial Hospital?”
“As a wife, I should care for my husband’s health.”
Zhao Xingjin chuckled.
“So dutiful, thinking of another while with me.”

A Teasing Request

Xie Jiu grinned, playful.
“He married me properly, after all.”
“Knowing his state, how can I ignore it?”
Tapping the chessboard, she pouted.
“I’ve played chess with Your Majesty so long.”
“Won’t you grant me this small favor?”
Her coy charm, a shift from her usual poise, delighted Zhao Xingjin.
Grinning, he waved a hand.
“Yang Zhi’an, grant it!”
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Xie Jiu said, rising.
Her smile was warm, her bow graceful.
Half an hour later, Wu Que’s brief calm shattered.
A palace eunuch delivered the cooling pills.
Before the eunuch left, Wu Que collapsed.
Overwhelmed by rage.
The steward, flustered, claimed illness and fatigue, rushing the eunuch out.

A Spreading Rumor

Perhaps the eunuch gossiped.
Soon, word of Wu Que’s “illness” spread through the capital.
True or false, everyone knew the cause.
Publicly, people stayed silent.
Privately, they mocked him.
On his sickbed, Wu Que glared at the pills.
His anger burned hotter.
He ordered the steward to request more sick leave.
Court would be a gauntlet of ridicule.
He couldn’t face it.