The matron turned and saw a young lady standing before her—strikingly beautiful, her cloud-like hair coiled high, hairpins gleaming like stars, and a crimson dress trailing along the ground. She looked like a celestial maiden stepping out of a temple mural into the mortal world. Even as a fellow woman, the matron couldn't help but exclaim, "What an aura this young lady has! Is she some goddess even mightier than Master Wang?"
"Not quite," Ye Jiao replied gently. "I just wanted to ask—why would you wish for your husband to die young?"
To grow old together, hand in hand—wasn't that the dream of many couples?
Still clutching Wang Qianshan's robe with a death grip, the woman sighed, "It's not that I'm petty or difficult. But my husband—he loiters all day in Pingkang Alley, neglects his business, ignores our children, and hits me when I speak a word of reproach. He even raises his hand against his own parents. All our silver has gone to those courtesans, and now he's riddled with disease, squandering the last of our family's wealth. You say you have an idea—but what could you possibly do?"
Silence fell around them. Not only the woman, but even Wang Qianshan turned to look at Ye Jiao, arms folded, as if waiting to enjoy a joke. Dressed in a green Daoist robe, he stood tall and straight like a spruce tree, an amused smirk tugging at his lips. What remedy could an unmarried girl possibly have for a brothel-haunting husband?
Ye Jiao smiled, her plan already forming. "Since your husband is ill, he needs a cure, of course. Slip some croton seeds into his meals so he spends all day running to the latrine. Add some prunella to sap his strength. Once he's too weak to move, hire a cart and drop him off outside the brothel—let the courtesans take him in. But of course, they won't. If the guards are strict, they might even beat him. Make sure you visit every brothel in Pingkang Alley, let it be known far and wide that he carries a vile disease and has a shrewish wife at home. Who would dare take his money after that?"
The woman stood slack-jawed for a moment, then slowly let go of her husband's sleeve and turned fully to face Ye Jiao, her voice full of wonder. "Can one really do that?"
"Why not?" Ye Jiao spread her hands. "Sometimes it takes evil to fight evil. You can't just do nothing and wait for him to die in peace, can you?"
Taking a deep breath, the woman pondered her words. "If I don't want to divorce him… then this is the only way."
"There's more," Ye Jiao added. "You could also have your family give him a good beating. And if you really want to be ruthless, go file a complaint with the magistrate. Don't accuse him of whoring—say he beats his parents like a beast. The Emperor prizes filial piety. The courts won't care if he visits courtesans, but they'll care if he's unfilial."
That charge alone could land him behind bars for days—enough to make him suffer. And if he wants to show filial devotion after that, well, the brothel will hardly be an option.
The woman nodded vigorously, carefully counting out each suggestion on her fingers before rushing off toward the pharmacy. "Croton seeds, was it? I'll need plenty. Hit him hard!"
Ye Rou, looking stunned, whispered, "Will that… kill him?"
Ye Jiao thought for a moment. "No. Our sister looks soft-hearted—she'll know when to stop."
Wang Qianshan turned pale and murmured, "Such brilliant and devious means… This young lady must truly share fate with a humble Daoist like myself."
"Flattered," Ye Jiao replied with a small bow. Then, glancing idly at the sky, she asked offhandedly, "Is the Daoist still residing in the Zhao Prince's manor? It's awfully noisy there—why not move to a quieter place?"
She didn't really care where Wang Qianshan lived. It was pure instinct—she always thought of the Zhao manor. It had been days since she visited. Was Li Ce still bedridden? The sun had been warm lately—had he been sitting outside, soaking it in? Had he eaten the ginseng she sent? That scoundrel Li Jing had surely stolen a few of the best roots.
Wang Qianshan spread his sleeves, his voice low. "To be honest, I like the Zhao manor. Its feng shui is favorable—auspicious energy flows there. It aids my path to immortality."
There it was again. He couldn't go three sentences without mentioning ascension.
Ye Jiao folded her hands behind her back, her interest waning. "I've heard that to become a celestial immortal, one must perform 1,300 good deeds; to become a terrestrial immortal, 300. If the Daoist wishes to ascend, perhaps curing the sickly one in the Zhao manor would count as one of those deeds. Who knows? You might transcend your mortal shell and ascend right then and there."
"Transcending the flesh?" Wang Qianshan frowned. "No—I aim to ascend both body and spirit, in perfect harmony."
He gazed heavenward, eyes locked on a drifting cloud, his handsome features filled with dreamy longing.
"But…" he murmured, "I suppose I could perform that good deed. I wonder—how much would the lady be willing to offer as tribute?"
Turning his head, he found Ye Jiao already three zhang away, her silken shawl fluttering like a fairy's wings. She looked more like an immortal than he ever would.
How did she run so fast? Was she a rabbit in a past life?
Jewelry wasn't worth buying, but good food still was.
In a private room at Drunken Immortal Pavilion, Ye Jiao declared she wanted beef. The waiter stumbled back, clearly startled.
"Miss… the Tang Empire forbids the slaughter of draft cattle. We have no beef."
Don't pretend with me.
Ye Jiao glared at him. Not long ago, Li Ce had brought her here for beef.
She placed silver on the table and smiled. "Relax. I'm a regular. I won't tell."
The waiter scratched his head, suddenly remembering. "Ah… you're the one who came to see the Hu dancer last time. Got it—one beef dish coming up."
As he scurried off, Ye Rou leaned over with a teasing smile. "Oh? Who brought you here? Brother didn't even know they served beef."
Ye Jiao took a sip of tea, replying heavily, "A bothersome man."
"How bothersome?" Ye Rou pressed.
Ye Jiao cupped her cheeks with both hands, brows furrowed, eyes blinking like peach blossoms. "Extremely. Clever, but always extorting silver. Looks gentle, but when angry, absolutely terrifying. Says one thing and does another—said it was just pretend, but he keeps acting like it's real. I want to punch him, but then I pity him. I try to stay just friends, and then… he looks at me with those eyes."
Ye Rou straightened up instantly. "What kind of eyes?"
"Well…" Ye Jiao pondered. "Like how a big brother looks at his mother."
A touch of reverence, a bit of tenderness, maybe the urge to protect.
That kind of gaze—mesmerizing, like riding the wind through clouds.
"Wait—you're not…" Ye Rou's eyes widened in horror. "Did you adopt a godson?!"
"What nonsense!" Ye Jiao slammed the table. "I'm talking about Li Ce. You've met him!"
Ye Rou finally relaxed. Good—at least her sister hadn't crossed the line and taken in a son while unmarried. But then she frowned again.
"You…" She pushed the teapot aside and clasped Ye Jiao's hand. "You and Li Ce…"
"We're just friends," Ye Jiao said flatly.
"No," Ye Rou studied her closely. "There's definitely something between you two."
"There's not!" Ye Jiao shook her head. "Don't forget—he's the Emperor's son. Mother has warned us—our family must never get entangled with the royal house again."
"But Mother likes Li Ce," Ye Rou said. "She even worries about his health."
"What if…" Ye Jiao hesitated, then voiced her deepest fear. "What if I end up like Aunt Ying?"
Aunt Ying, Ye Ying, had married the late Prince Chen. Her involvement in a failed coup nearly dragged the entire Ye family into ruin. Ye Jiao had grown up hearing her brother tell those stories—of how the court mocked and scorned them, how their businesses were swallowed by nobles, how friends and kin fled like frightened birds.
She had once cursed her own fate—not being born a man. If she were, she could shield her family, protect them from all harm.
How could she now… place them in danger again?
Ye Rou, hearing this, only smiled.
"Since when did you become as timid as I am?" she asked, eyes narrowed in amusement. These days, she had regained her strength and glow—rosy-cheeked and full of life.
"As for Li Ce…" she trailed off, but her expression said more than words.