Liao Xianxian sobbed at the right moment: "Cousin, please don't blame me, Miss Yu. It's just me who's clumsy." She pretended to pull at Jiang Yuyao's sleeve, but was violently thrown away. This action, seen by everyone, further confirmed Jiang Yuyao's reputation for violence.
Yuan Tong stroked his beard and nodded vigorously, "I'd say the Princess of Linchuan is incredibly kind. She even gave me half of the goose she hunted last time." He smacked his lips as if savoring the taste, "The roasted goose leg was smeared with honey and roasted to a delicious crisp." Seeing everyone's sidelong glances, he quickly said in a serious tone, "Anyway, Miss Jiang would never instruct a maid to do anything evil!"
"General Yuan is right," Yao Zhe said, suddenly clapping his hands. "I remember that Miss Jiang rescued a lone fawn during last winter's hunt. How could such a kind-hearted person treat her half-sister harshly as the rumors say?"
Jiang Yuyao felt dizzy as she listened to the discussions around her. These lies, all twisted and false, were clearly the tactics she had used to frame Jiang Songyi.
When she looked at Jiang Jinzhao, her tears fell on the pink butterfly embroidered on her lapel, making the wings look even heavier.
"Big Brother..." This call was so convoluted, it was exactly like the tone she'd used last year when she'd asked for the Dongzhu headdress. Jiang Jinzhao's folding fan snapped shut, and the jade dragonfly embedded in its ribs trembled.
Yu Chuwei suddenly clapped her hands and chuckled softly, the red musk beads wrapped around her wrist slipping out of her sleeve. "What a deep sisterly love!" She walked over to Liao Xianxian, her jeweled armor tilting the maid's chin. "Look at this palm print, it's even more exquisite than the butterfly-loving flower embroidery by Second Miss Jiang."
Jiang Yuyao trembled all over. She had specially worn the jade earrings Jiang Jinzhao had given her today, but now they hurt her earlobes. She caught a glimpse of the Fourth Prince fiddling with a jade ring, a faint smile on his face, and her heart sank even colder.
"Yuyao is kindhearted, perhaps she's just angry," Jiang Jinzhao finally spoke, only to see Yao Zhe using a silver chopstick dipped in wine to draw a turtle on the table, the shell facing Jiang Yuyao. A vein throbbed in his forehead. "Miss Yu, on the other hand, seems quite concerned about the affairs of the Marquis' Mansion."
The words were full of sarcasm, but Yu Chuwei seemed oblivious. She stroked her newly dyed nail polish and suddenly pulled a yellowed piece of paper from her sleeve: "What a coincidence! I saw a rare item at the pawnshop in the west of the city yesterday—" Three small cinnabar characters appeared on the corner of the paper: "Liao's daughter." It was Liao Xianxian's indenture contract.
Jiang Baichuan's wheelchair rolled over the pearls on the ground, making a crackling sound: "My mother signed a living contract three years ago. Where did Miss Yu get it from?" His fingertips stroked the Xiezhi pattern on the armrest of the wheelchair. It was the burn mark caused by Jiang Yuyao "accidentally" knocking over the medicine bowl last month.
Yu Chuwei's smile froze. Of course, she wouldn't say she'd bought it for a fortune from the doorman at the Duke of Jingguo's mansion. Just as she was about to make an excuse, Yuan Tong chuckled, "Second Miss Jiang, with her strength, it would be a shame if she didn't go to the armory to swing a hammer."
Amidst the roar of laughter, Jiang Yuyao's pearl hairpin suddenly fell to the ground. She had snatched that hairpin, inlaid with gold thread and southern pearls, from Jiang Songyi's coming-of-age ceremony last year. The gilded head was cracked, reminiscent of the mask she carefully maintained.
"Enough!" Jiang Jinzhao abruptly stood up, the jade pendant on his waist clanging against the table. He stared at his half-sister's pale face and suddenly remembered last year's winter hunt. When Jiang Yuyao handed him the hand warmer, a hint of chilblains appeared on her cuffs—now that he thought about it, that was where the bruises would be from whipping someone.
Su Sheng suddenly cleared his throat. "A woman's reputation is paramount. Brother Yao, you're overstating the matter." The folding fan in his hand, painted with Jiang Yuyao's favorite red plum blossom, snapped shut. "But Second Miss Jiang deserves an explanation for her harsh treatment of her blood relatives."
Jiang Yuyao stared in disbelief at the man who had once written poems and essays for her. Last year on Qixi Festival, Su Sheng had vowed that she was more worthy of the title of "Linchuan" than Jiang Songyi, but now he had become a stab in her back.
"What do you think?" Jiang Baichuan turned his wheelchair and stopped in front of the Fourth Prince's seat. "What do you think, Your Highness?"
Xinyi Zigu played with the green jade wine cup, the amber light from the cup making his eyebrows and eyes look even more profound. "I remember that the Western Suburbs Horse Farm is short of a female horse trainer." He suddenly raised his eyes to look at Liao Xianxian, "Miss Liao, are you willing to take this job?"
The whole room was in uproar. Though the horse ranch maid was only a ninth-rank official, she had escaped slavery. Jiang Yuyao dug her nails into her palms. Three years of painstaking effort hadn't been enough to defeat Liao Xianxian's show today!
A sudden downpour arrived, the patter of raindrops hitting banana leaves drowning out Yu Chuwei's sneer. She stared at Jiang Yuyao's shaky figure, suddenly remembering the vengeance she'd had last month when that bastard pushed her into the lotus pond. A gust of wind leaking in through the window lifted her sleeve, revealing the red marks on her wrist from Jiang Yuyao's scratches.
"A humble woman..." Liao Xianxian kowtowed, a bloodstained silk handkerchief slipping from her sleeve. Embroidered on the corner of the handkerchief was a crooked Chinese character for "窈," the same stitching as on Jiang Yuyao's sachet. "I am willing to serve Your Highness with all my heart."
The teacup in Jiang Jinzhao's hand shattered. He suddenly saw that the handkerchief was made of brocade—last year's tribute, the emperor had only awarded the Marquisate three pieces. His mother had said that all of it was given to Jiang Songyi for her wedding dress, so how could it be in Liao Xianxian's hands?
Xinyi Zigu stroked the Kuilong jade pendant at his waist, his fingertips feeling the coolness of the jade. The farce before him made his temples throb—Jiang Yuyao, his chosen concubine, now looked like a shrew with her hairpins disheveled and tears streaming down her face, like a street shrew.
"Brother Yao, be careful with your words." He cut Yao Zhe off before he could finish his words. The gold thread on his dark python-patterned cuffs gleamed coldly in the sunlight. Last year, during the Lantern Festival, when the palace lanterns were as bright as day, he had vowed in the Imperial Garden, in front of Yang Guifei, that Jiang Yuyao, with her virtuous character and elegant demeanor, was worthy of being her principal wife. Now, thinking about it, that shattered glass palace lantern had become a prophecy.
Jiang Yuyao twisted her handkerchief and stepped back. The hem of her apricot skirt was stained with tea, like a magnolia battered by rain. She looked at Xin Yi Zi Gu's tightly pursed lips and suddenly remembered their first meeting three years ago—the young prince standing under the apricot tree with an umbrella, brushing the fallen petals from her shoulders, his fingertips clearly warm.
"Aren't you going to change?" Xinyi Zigu's voice was icy. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Yao Zhe, the son of the Minister of War, toying with a dagger, the blade reflecting Jiang Jinzhao's sullen expression. The Yongding Marquisate and the Yao family had always been at odds politically, but now they were watching a fire in his backyard like a monkey show.
Liao Xianxian chased after her in the carriage, her skirt lifted. As the curtain fell, it deliberately brushed against the corner of Jiang Yuyao's red and swollen eye. The incense ball swung, casting their shadows on the crepe window, like ghosts and goblins in a shadow play.
Half an incense stick later, Jiang Yuyao stepped out of the carriage, holding the hand of her maid. Her moon-white skirt was embroidered with silver osmanthus flowers, and the pearl hairpins in her hair swayed gently with her lotus steps, revealing a certain gracefulness. However, as she passed Yu Chuwei, she suddenly covered her nose and coughed lightly, reminding everyone of that foul object, and their expressions suddenly became subtle.
"Your Highness..." She tugged softly at the hem of her Xinyi Zigu sleeve, her fingertips adorned with the newly dyed color of Impatiens. This tactic had always worked, but now, she saw the other woman discussing "The Goddess of the Luo River" with Yu Chuwei. The girl's golden hairpins trembled with laughter, causing her eyes to ache.
As Yu Chuwei adjusted her shawl, she shifted her restraints toward Xinyi Zigu. From the sachet wafted stork-incense—a scent she had specially created this morning, perfectly complementing the ambergris the Fourth Prince usually used.
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