Ye Rou dropped to her knees in terror, but Madam Ye's fury remained unrelenting."To think that our dignified Duke's household—though not currently holding office—still a family of noble, quiet repute—has now fallen so low as to sell off a daughter in exchange for power and favor?"
Tears streamed down Ye Rou's face. "Mother, that was never my intention…"
"Not your intention?" Madam Ye's voice rang sharply. "Never mind the disgrace of being a concubine's child—do you know how despised that is? And that man—last year, he was duped in Pingkang Lane and returned home clad in nothing but his undergarments. Is that the conduct of a man in his right mind? Tell me—was it your idea to sacrifice your sister this way, or was it Qian Yougong's?"
Qian Yougong—Ye Rou's husband—was currently serving as a registrar at the Capital Commandery Office, a position that often required dealings with the Ministry of Revenue. Naturally, he sought favor with its officials. Yet no one could have imagined he would stoop so low as to set his sights on his wife's younger sister.
Madam Ye trembled with rage, gasping before finishing her sentence. Her nursemaid quickly supported her into the eight-immortal chair. Her eyes fixed on the trembling hairpin in Ye Rou's coiffure—one she had personally secured on her daughter's wedding day.
"Rou'er," she said, shaking her head, "I raised you with my own hands. How did you grow to be this kind of woman…"
The words of reproach lodged in her throat; facing her own child, she could not speak them aloud.
Ye Rou could only weep and plead for forgiveness. With a wave of her hand, Madam Ye dismissed her.
"Go. And tell Qian Yougong—if he dares to harbor such vile intentions again, I will not spare him!"
Ye Rou staggered to her feet. A maid reached to help her, but she recoiled as if touched by lightning.
"Mother," she said tearfully before leaving, "Jiaojiao loves peach pastries. I made some for her—please let her have a taste."
Madam Ye, still fuming, propped her forehead against her hand as though she hadn't heard.
Ye Rou returned home with her heart torn apart. After bathing and dressing, she presented herself to her mother-in-law, who asked a few brief questions and urged her not to worry about her maiden family.
"This matter has reached the morning court; even His Majesty is aware. Naturally, he will help find your sister a respectable match."
Somewhat reassured, Ye Rou took her leave. But as she stepped into the courtyard, she noticed the cleaning maids wearing uneasy expressions. A few steps farther, she heard laughter and flirtation from the main quarters.
She pushed open the door. Qian Yougong sat on a spring-stool, his arms wrapped around a newly acquired concubine. The air carried a faint musk, her clothing barely covering her form. Her foxlike eyes locked on Ye Rou, filled with open provocation.
In this household, a legitimate wife had little dignity left.
Noticing Ye Rou, Qian Yougong shifted, his weight making the stool creak beneath him. He gave the concubine a final grope before waving her away. "Get back and wait for me."
His tone was vulgar, thick with lust. He tossed her a red cloth—it was the underbodice he had just removed from her.
"Well?" he said, lifting his teacup, looking at Ye Rou.
"No," Ye Rou answered, her voice now cold and firm. "Mother is furious. You'd best put this idea to rest. If you wish to curry favor with the Vice Minister of Revenue, don't push my sister into the fire."
Qian Yougong was stunned—never had this docile wife spoken back to him. His smile vanished. He hurled the teacup aside and lumbered toward her, his short and stout figure resembling a rolling hill.
Ye Rou stepped back, but he seized her wrist in a crushing grip. She winced in pain.
"Master, please!" the maid Chunyan fell to her knees in panic. "My lady has just endured a scolding at the Duke's residence. She meant no offense. Her wounds haven't even healed…"
"Out of my way!" Qian Yougong kicked Chunyan in the chest.
"Ye Rou, listen to me well," he barked, "Now that we've lost the Prime Minister's marriage alliance, your precious Duke's house has no future. You think your brother is capable of restoring your name? Bah! Marrying your sister into the Vice Minister's household—even as a concubine—is already above your station!"
Ye Rou's face turned pale as she clenched her teeth. His fingers, like iron pincers, dug into her bones.
"So you proposed marriage just to become the Prime Minister's in-law?" she demanded. Her sister's betrothal had preceded her own.
"What else?" Qian Yougong sneered. "Was it for your dowry? For your dull, lifeless temperament?"
But fate had played its hand—now that Ye Jiao's engagement had collapsed, that ambition was doomed. He grabbed Ye Rou's face, distorting her lips until her teeth were bared. She endured the pain in silence. Losing interest, he flung her aside and stormed off.
Chunyan rushed to apply bruise ointment. Marks from Qian Yougong's abuse marred Ye Rou's body.
"My lady," Chunyan sobbed, "Let's return to Madam Ye. Force him to divorce you. Even if you live alone forever, at least you won't suffer daily torment."
"No... I can't," Ye Rou shook her head violently, as though trying to dispel her thoughts. "My sister was rejected from marriage. If I return home divorced, our family will become a laughingstock. Staying here, at least with Qian Yougong's post, they won't dare go too far."
Though minor, a registrar's post in the Capital Commandery Office was still better than having no backing at all.
Chunyan wept bitterly. "What kind of fate is this? When he came to propose, he nearly got on his knees. Now that he's got you, he treats you like dirt."
"It's my fault. I misjudged him." Ye Rou rolled up her sleeves and carefully applied the ointment. "Mother never agreed to the match. She said the Qian family had few scholars, and Qian Yougong only gained office by virtue of filial piety. Our families were worlds apart. But I—blinded by his tender care—lost my reason."
Who would've thought his gentleness was merely sweetened bait. Once the honey was gone, the barbs showed. With the marriage contract sealed, there was no escape.
The mistress and her maid tended to the wounds. Ye Rou had resigned herself to fate—she now pinned her hopes on bearing a child, to gain some measure of affection.
Zichen Palace
After lunch, the Emperor casually inquired about the Ninth Prince.
"How foolish," he chuckled. "He gave away that fine nanmu arrow case of mine to the pitiful Duke's household."
"Such generosity reflects his honest heart," replied Gao Fu, the chief eunuch, as he offered the Emperor tea for rinsing.
The Emperor wiped his mouth and smirked. "Did you see Chancellor Fu Qian's face today? I nearly burst out laughing. Back when he served as a censor, he endlessly rebuked me for poor parenting. And now? His son drops his trousers on the imperial avenue!"
The Emperor laughed heartily, prompting the surrounding eunuchs to lower their heads in haste.
Of course, Fu Mingzhu had not actually stripped in the street. But rumors, as always, grew more outrageous with each telling. Now people claimed he was paraded naked down the imperial road, shielding himself with a carriage board—worse off than the fool son of the Vice Minister of Revenue, who at least wore split pants.
"And that Qin Luohui…" the Emperor added, "How truly unfortunate."
"Not entirely," Gao Fu replied with a well-timed smile. "Your Majesty was gracious enough to grant him a match with the Chancellor's family. That, in itself, is a blessing."
The Emperor nodded, though his expression soured.
"That match wasn't of my doing. The children are young and foolish—I merely mediated."
After all, it was only the Duke's household being sacrificed. The Chancellor remained his trusted right arm—for now, best to keep him appeased.
Gao Fu nodded in agreement, still smiling.
The Emperor then seemed to recall something and asked, "Who was it that…"