Chapter 11 Clash
Mingwu could naturally tell that Qi Lan wasn't really asking if she was surprised. She was never good at such roundabout ways and didn't bother to guess.
So, she habitually curled her lips into a smile and asked directly, "What brings you here, Madam Qi?"
Qi Lan had imagined countless possible reactions from Ming Wu.
Mockery, contempt, or...
The only thing I didn't expect was that it would be so uneventful.
It was as if, in her eyes, he was just an ordinary person.
Qi Lan's fingers, resting on the armrest of the wheelchair, suddenly tightened, her fingertips scraping heavily across the cold grain of the sandalwood.
What a beautiful Mingwu!
She was even more cunning and adept at disguise than I had imagined.
Qi Lan sneered inwardly.
Otherwise, how could a merchant's daughter, with only a pretty face, have captured the heart of a cold-hearted man like Lu Yuan in just half a year?
A hint of coldness flashed across Qi Lan's calm eyes, but her face remained gentle as she smiled.
"Madam's question is suspicious. You clearly came here in a very aggressive manner, accompanied by the Princess. If it weren't for the Prime Minister's guards stopping you, my Lan Courtyard would probably be a complete mess by now."
She was implying something.
Even without leaving the house, and even though she had only been in the mansion for a few days, she still had complete control over every little thing happening in the Prime Minister's residence.
This is also a silent demonstration.
If it were an ordinary mistress, facing such provocation from the woman her husband brought home, she would probably have been furious. Having lost favor and the power to manage the household, even the most cunning woman would inevitably be flustered and at a loss.
Unfortunately, Mingwu didn't catch the underlying meaning at all. She came from a merchant family, and although her mother, Madam Lin, often fought with the concubines, it was mostly through insults and hair-grabbing tactics.
Mingwu said calmly, "Madam Qi has misunderstood."
"Misunderstand?"
Qi Lan chuckled softly, flicked her wrist, and the wooden wheelchair slowly rolled forward a few steps. The sound of the wheels scraping against the ground was extremely abrupt and jarring in the quiet room.
It felt like a dull knife scraping hard across my eardrum.
"It seems I was just overthinking it."
She drew out the last syllable, carrying a hint of mockery.
Mingwu thought the meeting could end.
She knew full well that the root of the problem lay not with Qi Lan, but with Lu Yuan. Even if it wasn't Qi Lan, it would have been someone else. Besides, she didn't want to cause any more trouble for a woman with limited mobility.
She was about to take her leave.
Lan Ying, the blue-clad maid standing to the side, suddenly knelt down in front of Ming Wu with a thud, her voice trembling with sobs.
“Madam, I took that bird’s nest without permission. My wife is in poor health, and I felt sorry for her, so I... I wanted to nourish her, but I never expected to take your share by mistake. If you want to punish me, please punish me instead. Please don’t blame my wife.”
She said she accepted the punishment, but there was not a trace of remorse on her face.
Though kneeling, her chin was held high, her expression arrogant, and her eyes filled with undisguised contempt. She referred to herself as "I," not "your servant."
This isn't admitting fault; it's blatant coercion.
Qi Lan responded at the opportune moment.
"Blue Oriole was only acting rashly because she was anxious about my weak health. Madam, please don't get angry over such a small matter. If you hurt yourself, Yuanlang... will be heartbroken."
Yuan Lang.
Those two words, like a bolt from the blue, exploded in Mingwu's mind.
She had called him that way before, only once. It was the second day after they consummated their marriage, and she got up early, her body aching.
Prepare his breakfast before he goes out to court.
She suddenly tugged at his sleeve and called out softly and shyly: Yuanlang.
He paused for a moment, then pulled his sleeve from her hand and said coldly, "Call me by your name."
She paused for a moment, then sweetly called him: Husband.
This time he didn't say anything.
She had initially thought he was just a bit old-fashioned and didn't like overly affectionate nicknames. It turned out, that nickname was already reserved for someone else.
My heart felt like it was being gripped tightly by an icy hand.
Mingwu clenched her fists, her nails digging deep into her palms, the sharp pain barely suppressing the metallic taste churning in her throat and the trembling in her body.
She heard her own voice was unusually steady, even carrying a hint of deliberate ease.
“Madam Qi, you flatter me. It’s just a cup of bird’s nest soup. You are a distinguished guest of the Prime Minister’s residence. If you need more, I will have someone send some more tomorrow.”
Distinguished guest.
guest.
Qi Lan felt that Ming Wu was mocking her. She was implying that even though she had entered the Prime Minister's residence, she had no official status or position. She wasn't even a concubine.
The gentle smile on her face froze instantly, but returned to normal in a moment. Only the coldness in her eyes deepened.
"As expected of a woman from a merchant family, she is indeed very generous."
The contempt and sarcasm in his tone were so strong they were almost overflowing.
Mingwu seemed not to hear, her eyebrows curved, and she smiled with innocent joy.
"Madam Qi, you flatter me. My Ming family is indeed quite wealthy."
Qi Lan felt a tightness in her chest, almost vomiting blood.
Was this shopkeeper woman genuinely stupid or just pretending? Didn't she realize he was implying she was of lowly status and unworthy of Lu Yuan? What a truly lowly fool!
Qi Lan decided to stop beating around the bush.
“Madam,” Qi Lan’s voice deepened, carrying a hint of condescending pity, “some things cannot be forced. Yuan Lang… the past and the people he carries in his heart are too heavy, too burdensome.”
"The longer you sit in a position that doesn't belong to you, the deeper you'll get hurt."
Seeing Mingwu's face suddenly turn pale, Qi Lan's lips curled into a pleased smile.
"You must have seen the painting of red plum blossoms in the outer hall, Madam, right?"
"Braving snow and frost is inherently noble, but if you force it into a warm room and make it bloom out of season... it will ultimately go against the natural order and damage its own foundation."
She paused meaningfully, her gaze fixed intently on Mingwu's face.
"Madam is exceptionally intelligent; I'm sure you understand what I mean."
Every word and phrase was like a poisoned arrow, piercing Mingwu's heart.
In Lu Yuan's eyes and Qi Lan's eyes, Ming Wu, along with her humble admiration and efforts, were nothing more than untimely and laughable acts of self-indulgent affection.
The last pillar in my heart has collapsed.
A piercing, excruciating pain surged forth like a tidal wave, and tears welled up uncontrollably, only to be swallowed back down.
The image flashed before my eyes: that day in the study, when she softly begged him to give her the painting of red plum blossoms, and his unmoved, cold face...
Mingwu suddenly closed her eyes, her long eyelashes trembling violently.
After a moment, she slowly opened her eyes, her gaze filled with a clarity that was almost deathly still.
"Madam Qi truly deserves to be called the most talented woman in Lin'an. It's just that I'm naturally slow-witted and don't quite understand. However, speaking of blooming out of season..."
Mingwu smiled faintly.
"When I came in just now, I saw a bowl of blue water lilies placed by the spring, and they were in full bloom. It seems that what Madam Qi said might not be quite accurate."
Qi Lan's mask finally shattered completely, and her expression suddenly darkened.
"Madam may not know much about my past with Yuanlang."
Mingwu met her gaze directly.
"I don't know. So, is Madam Qi going to tell me a story? I didn't hear the whole thing at the theater that day. If Madam Qi tells it, it will definitely be better than what was performed at the theater."
She even tilted her ear slightly, adopting an attitude of listening attentively.
Qi Lan's face turned red, then green, then red again, like a spilled palette of colors—it was quite a spectacle.
The fingers gripping the wheelchair armrests were so tight that the knuckles protruded, and they were deathly pale. Gone was the serene and gentle demeanor.
After a moment of deathly silence, Qi Lan suddenly chuckled softly. The laughter was icy and chilling, with no trace of pretense.
"Madam, deceiving yourself is not the way of a wise person."
Mingwu didn't want to engage in this exhausting exchange of witty banter with her anymore.
"Madam Qi, please rest well. Farewell."
Before she finished speaking, she turned around without hesitation and walked out with firm steps.
"Madam, please take care of yourself."
Qi Lan's cold voice came from behind him, carrying a faint sigh.
Stepping out of the courtyard.
Mingwu's ramrod-straight spine seemed to have all its bones ripped out in an instant, causing her to collapse completely. She tripped over something protruding and nearly fell over.
Chunnan rushed forward to support her, her hands feeling icy cold.
"Madam, what's wrong? What...what did she do to you?!"
Mingwu couldn't speak, she just clung tightly to Chunnan's arm, like a drowning person grabbing the only piece of driftwood.
She gasped for breath, the icy air rushing into her lungs, but it did nothing to alleviate the overwhelming suffocation and tearing pain.
The blinding sunlight poured down without any obstruction.
Mingwu subconsciously raised her hand to shield her eyes.
The light filtered through her fingers, casting dappled, flickering shadows on her pale face, but it couldn't penetrate her empty eyes.
"It's alright, Chunnan."
She straightened her back, which was almost crushed by the weight, and forced a smile, her lips curving upwards into an arc more unsightly than a cry. Her voice was as light as a dream.
“We…go back.”
-
Back at the courtyard, Mingwu waved for Chunnan to leave and sat alone in front of the dressing table.
The dim bronze mirror reflected a pale, dazed face, which for a moment overlapped with Qi Lan's gentle yet sharp features.
She abruptly closed her eyes, her nails digging deep into her palms again, but she could no longer suppress the surging bitterness and dull pain in her heart.
Chun Nan's hurried footsteps broke the silence: "Madam, something has happened at Lan Courtyard!"
Mingwu's fingertips trembled suddenly, and the rouge box in her hand fell to the dark carpet with a "thud," splattering the bright red rouge.
It shattered into a shocking, glaring red.
"What is it?"
She heard her own voice, as fleeting as the cold rain that had silently fallen outside the window.
After regaining her composure, she asked again, "What happened?"
"Miss Qi Lan has suddenly fallen seriously ill, alarming everyone in the Imperial Hospital. The Prime Minister... the Prime Minister just rode back to his residence, not even changing out of his court robes, and went straight to Lan Yuan."
Chunnan twisted her handkerchief, her face full of fear and frustration.
"Of all times, it had to be today, after we'd already been there. Madam, could she be...?"
Chunnan suspected that Qi Lan had deliberately framed her. Otherwise, how could such a coincidence happen?
The bronze mirror reflected Mingwu's lips, which had suddenly lost all color.
She reached out to steady herself on the dressing table, but knocked over the snail-shaped ink powder beside her, leaving a winding, twisting ink mark on the plain white silk handkerchief.
Like an ominous sign.
A suppressed commotion and footsteps suddenly arose outside the courtyard.
Look up.
Lu Yuan, holding an umbrella, strode in from outside the courtyard through the wind and rain.
His dark cloak fluttered in the wind. The flickering lantern under the eaves cast his tall figure long and slender, a silhouette projected onto the crimson gauze window.
It was as sharp as a sword suddenly drawn from its sheath, exuding a chilling aura.
Behind him, thick clouds pressed down heavily, as if they were about to fall at any moment.
He lifted the umbrella slightly, and through the rain-blurred window frame, his eyes met Mingwu's.
The rain grew heavier and heavier, the dense curtain of rain weaving into a huge, impenetrable net that almost completely obscured the view.
The pavilions and towers in the distance were distorted and deformed in the rain, and the golden bells on the eaves were jingled by the gale, but the subtle sounds were mercilessly swallowed up by the torrential rain.
Lu Yuan withdrew his gaze, his figure disappearing around the corner of the doorway. Soon, heavy footsteps entered the house, bringing with them a chilling and damp atmosphere.
He raised his hand and casually brushed the raindrops off his sleeves.
"Did you go to Lanyuan today?"
His voice was colder than the early spring rain and more biting than the frost of December; every word was like a needle quenched in ice.
It has seeped into Mingwu's very bones and blood.
Mingwu sat before her dressing table, not turning around, but watching his approaching figure through the bronze mirror. His dark robes carried the scent of wind and rain from outside.
Those eyes were unfathomable, like an eternally frozen pool, impenetrable to even a ray of light. They pressed down on her relentlessly, making it hard for her to breathe.
As he stared at her like that, Mingwu unconsciously curled her fingertips into her palm.
The charcoal fire inside the house was burning brightly.
Mingwu felt a bone-chilling cold creep up her back and spread rapidly throughout her body. The surrounding temperature seemed to drop several degrees.
He clearly didn't say anything, but the oppressive feeling in his gaze was tangible, pressing heavily on her shoulders, making her unable to move.
"Has the Prime Minister come to interrogate me?"
In the mirror, Lu Yuan's slender fingers twitched, and the black jade thumb ring on his thumb gleamed with a cold light under the candlelight.
"You tell me yourself."
His voice was flat and monotone, yet it was more chilling than any interrogation.
Mingwu suddenly turned around.
The pearl hairpin hanging from her temple slammed against the hard corner of the dressing table with a "smack" due to the sudden movement. In the sound of shattering jade, she clearly saw the undisguised and naked suspicion in his eyes.
Mingwu felt a buzzing in her ears, and her whole body seemed to dissipate like dust.
She straightened her back as if by magic, using all her strength to forcefully suppress the metallic taste that surged up in her throat again.
"I don't."
Three words, so light, yet carrying the resolute determination of a desperate gamble.
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