Xiao Shao indeed quickly brought water, seeming to have said a few words outside—likely to either the Embroidered Uniform Guards or Lian Qiao and the others. Jiang Ruan felt somewhat embarrassed. Xiao Shao walked to the edge of the couch and was about to bend down to embrace her when Jiang Ruan startled, asking, “What are you doing?”
“Since you won’t let the maids attend to you, I’ll carry you over to wash up,” Xiao Shao replied good-naturedly.
“That’s not necessary.” Jiang Ruan threw back the covers and was about to jump down: “I can wash myself just fine.” To wash her body with Xiao Shao again like this—even if she pretended to be composed, she feared she wouldn’t be able to remain calm. But as soon as she moved, she felt her entire body aching and weak, immediately stopping her motion.
Xiao Shao watched her with leisurely composure, suddenly smiling slightly: “I won’t do anything.”
Jiang Ruan thought that at this moment she truly would find it difficult to clean herself, and refusing further would only seem affected. She nodded, and Xiao Shao bent down to embrace her, carrying her toward the wooden tub behind the screen. Having just gone through their passionate encounter, Jiang Ruan was already quite exhausted, while Xiao Shao looked completely refreshed and energetic, lifting her effortlessly. When he let her settle into the wooden tub, the warm water felt wonderfully comfortable. As Jiang Ruan relaxed, she felt her eyelids growing heavy, not knowing when she fell asleep. After Xiao Shao carefully helped dry her body, Jiang Ruan was already sleeping soundly. Xiao Shao smiled and carried her back to the couch, tucking the covers around her.
He was concerned about exhausting Jiang Ruan—the first time always required extra consideration. Seeing her sleeping so peacefully now stirred his tender feelings, and he bent down to place a gentle kiss on her forehead. Lian Qiao entered carrying a medicine bowl. Xiao Shao silently shook his head at her, and Lian Qiao understood immediately, smiling as she retreated.
That night, how many people in Prince Jinying’s mansion knew of the intimate affairs within was known only to the hidden guards crouching on tree branches, wall corners, and rooftops. However, regarding the wager Jin Si had made, the final winner was the house itself. Jin Si generously took the winnings to treat everyone to drinks. When the wine flowed freely and spirits were high, several hidden guards wept tears of joy, as if they could already see the next young master of Prince Jinying’s mansion rushing toward the estate.
When Jiang Ruan awoke, it was already the morning of the second day. After sleeping through the night, her body felt as if it had been trampled by something, even worse than the night before. The covers beside her were neat and smooth—Xiao Shao was not on the couch. She propped herself up to sit, when the door creaked open and Xiao Shao entered carrying a bowl of medicine. Seeing that Jiang Ruan had awakened, he placed the medicine bowl on the small table beside the couch, reached out to touch her forehead, and asked, “Does your body still ache?”
Jiang Ruan: “…”
Xiao Shao couldn’t help but laugh again. These days, he had been laughing quite often. With his already handsome features, this smile made him even more radiant as spring dawn, beautiful as peach blossoms—probably because he was well-fed and in excellent spirits. Jiang Ruan compared herself to him, then reached out to take the medicine bowl beside her, blew on it, and downed the medicine in several gulps.
The medicine was probably prescribed according to Xiao Shao’s instructions, and it was indeed effective. After drinking it, she felt her body warming, and even the aches lessened considerably.
After she finished, Xiao Shao took the empty bowl from Jiang Ruan’s hands, saying, “You should rest in your room today.”
“That won’t do.” Jiang Ruan shook her head: “Today the Court of Judicial Review holds trial. I must go.” After thinking, she said, “My body is mostly recovered after drinking the medicine. Going to listen to the case should be fine. You needn’t worry.”
Xiao Shao knew that Jiang Ruan always had her own mind about things. While her attitude toward admitting mistakes was good, next time she would still disregard her own well-being when necessary. It was simply in her nature to fight with everything she had. Though he felt heartache, he was also helpless, so he said, “I’ll have Jin San and the others accompany you. The people at the Court of Judicial Review surely won’t make things difficult for you.”
His words implied that he had already given instructions to the Court of Judicial Review beforehand. Jiang Ruan looked at him: “My suing my own birth father will inevitably cause talk throughout the capital, and might even implicate your reputation, placing Prince Jinying’s mansion in an awkward position. Do you think I’m doing wrong?”
“He is not your father,” Xiao Shao said calmly. “You no longer have any connection with the Jiang family.” Jiang Ruan was slightly stunned, then heard Xiao Shao continue: “Since you married into Prince Jinying’s mansion, you are of the Xiao family. Whether seeking revenge or overturning cases, the Xiao family will be your support.”
His expression was resolute, his words gentle. Though he was clearly the coldest of men, his heart could always warm others and bring them joy. Jiang Ruan smiled: “Xiao Shao, thank you.”
This was not a perfunctory thanks, nor the transactional gratitude of one ally to another, but a completely sincere thanks from the bottom of her heart. In this world, it was rare to find someone who would always stand behind you without asking why, who would persist in standing with you no matter what you did—this was affection and loyalty.
“No need,” Xiao Shao smiled warmly: “If you really want to thank me, just be more passionate at night.”
Jiang Ruan: “…”
…
In a corner of the palace, Xuan Pei was listening to news reported back by Ming Yue, sneering coldly: “Jiang Quan’s good days are probably coming to an end. Having dared to harm her all those years ago, now it’s time to bear the consequences. The deaths of the Xia Yan and Jiang Susu siblings doesn’t mean all is well—does he think he still has a chance? Ridiculous.”
Ming Yue stood silently to one side. She knew her young master had some special relationship with Jiang Ruan, as if these two people had some particular connection. But since even Xiao Shao couldn’t investigate this matter, she, a mere hidden guard, naturally couldn’t either. Though puzzled, she knew that Xuan Pei always protected Jiang Ruan at all times. Now that Jiang Quan’s deeds had spread throughout the capital—a father being so unloving toward his own daughter—even common people would curse him as heartless, let alone Xuan Pei who was close to Jiang Ruan.
“Have the people you sent to the Court of Judicial Review been properly arranged?” Xuan Pei toyed with a night pearl the size of a pigeon egg in his hand. It was a reward bestowed yesterday when the Emperor, seeing his excellent performance on coursework and essays, was greatly pleased. This night pearl was rare even in the palace—something that would make even Xuan Hua envious. Yet now Xuan Pei was casually playing with it as a trinket, which spoke volumes about Xuan Pei’s current position in the court. The former neglected, bullied waste of a prince was no more—no one dared underestimate him now.
“Your Highness,” Ming Yue asked in confusion, “Prince Xiao has surely already spoken with the Court of Judicial Review. Even without Your Highness’s intervention, the people there won’t let Jiang Ruan suffer any loss. Why must Your Highness go to such lengths?” Xuan Pei’s every move was closely monitored by interested parties. If anyone discovered his involvement in Jiang Ruan’s case at the Court of Judicial Review, who knows what rumors might spread. In the palace, the best policy was to protect oneself, especially since Jiang Quan’s case could be perfectly resolved without his intervention.
“What Xiao Shao does is what he should do; what this prince does is this prince’s business. Does this prince need to bask in his reflected glory to do what I want?” Xuan Pei snorted coldly: “The people at the Court of Judicial Review have always been slippery. With pressure from Prince Jinying plus this prince’s additional effort, they’ll realize this matter is of great importance and will naturally spare no effort in striking down Jiang Quan. No matter what, as long as any additional punishment can be added to Jiang Quan, this prince will be delighted.”
Ming Yue helplessly shrugged her shoulders. Xuan Pei’s hostility toward Xiao Shao never diminished, though in the eyes of the adult Ming Yue, it seemed somewhat childish—rarely displayed in someone as mature as Xuan Pei. Moreover, she always felt there was an element of competing for favor and jealousy with Xiao Shao, naturally over Jiang Ruan’s attention. However, given Xuan Pei’s current young age, Ming Yue assumed she was overthinking.
…
The entrance to the Court of Judicial Review was already crowded with common people watching the excitement. The Court of Judicial Review was famous for fair trials, and each case involved the private affairs of wealthy families and noble clans in the capital, so people naturally came to watch the spectacle and hear secrets. Therefore, unless truly forced to desperation, ordinary people wouldn’t bring lawsuits to the Court of Judicial Review. After all, family shame shouldn’t be publicized—no one wanted their family’s private scandals to become public entertainment in broad daylight.
When Jiang Ruan arrived, it naturally caused another uproar. Suing one’s birth father was unprecedented in history. Moreover, the one doing this was Jiang Ruan—from having nothing at the Jiang mansion to becoming the favored county princess before Empress Dowager Yide, and now the princess consort of that unfathomable rebel prince. Each of Jiang Ruan’s identities was cause for sighs, and though there were certainly envious gazes among them, more were filled with admiration.
Naturally, Jiang Quan’s actions were unforgivable, but Jiang Ruan’s methods also showed no regard for family ties. People’s attitudes clearly divided into two camps: one firmly believed Jiang Quan deserved death and that Jiang Ruan’s actions, though extreme, were understandable; the other felt that Jiang Ruan violated the moral principles established since the founding of the Great Jin Dynasty, believing it truly unfilial to bring her birth father before a public court.
Regardless of others’ opinions, Jiang Ruan never cared. She stepped down from her carriage, today wearing a robe embroidered with precious floral patterns, its complex and solemn designs making her appear extremely noble. Over this was a satin fox-fur pleated cloak colored like burning fire—passionate and intense. After snowing all night, this morning’s accumulation was half a foot deep. In the silver-wrapped landscape, only she stood resplendent in red, beautiful yet cold. That brilliance was so striking it made people involuntarily hold their breath.
Even the people of the Court of Judicial Review, who always treated all court visitors equally, couldn’t help showing some respect when facing Jiang Ruan. This legitimate daughter of the Jiang family was not to be underestimated. Their superior, Judge Sun Xu, had specifically instructed his subordinates last night to be courteous to Jiang Ruan. For someone like Sun Xu, who feared neither power nor position, to treat someone with such importance suggested that this Jiang family legitimate daughter had backing not to be taken lightly.
In comparison, Jiang Quan’s treatment was worlds apart. Sun Xu had an eccentric temperament in court and feared almost no one—he wouldn’t even show a good face to former colleagues. What Jiang Quan cared most about was face, and now being made to appear lower than Sun Xu, as if he were truly a criminal under Sun Xu’s judgment, he was already burning with rage.
Jiang Xinzhi was at the military camp today discussing military affairs with the former general and truly couldn’t make it. When Jiang Ruan entered the hall, she discovered that Zhao Guang and the three Zhao brothers were also present. Seeing her, Zhao Yuanfeng warmly greeted her: “Ruanruan.”
Zhao Mei was, after all, a member of the Zhao family. Though years ago she had supposedly severed ties with the Zhao family, with the family treating her as if they had never raised such an unfilial daughter, the truth was that blood ties couldn’t be severed. Especially for the precious daughter the Zhao family had cherished, when they learned that Jiang Ruan was bringing the Jiang family to court, they were furious. If not for Jiang Xinzhi’s help in persuading them, Zhao Guang would probably have already stormed into the Minister’s mansion to hack Jiang Quan to pieces as vengeance for Zhao Mei.
The Zhao family always protected their own. Their presence at the Court of Judicial Review today undoubtedly demonstrated the Zhao family’s position. Zhao Mei was a daughter of the Zhao family—if her death truly wasn’t accidental and was even related to Jiang Quan, then the Zhao family would absolutely not let it rest.
Jiang Ruan stepped forward to greet each member of the Zhao family. The Zhao family women and grandchildren hadn’t come. Li Shi already felt regret about Zhao Mei’s situation, and if she learned the truth in court, she might become too emotionally agitated. When Jiang Ruan greeted the Zhao family members, she deliberately omitted only Jiang Quan. Jiang Quan, feeling all the surrounding gazes focused on him, felt extremely humiliated and angrily cursed: “Unfilial descendant!”
Zhao Guang was about to glare and curse back, but Jiang Ruan spoke first, asking Jiang Quan: “I wonder whom Minister Jiang is referring to?”
Jiang Quan hadn’t expected her to speak so mercilessly from the start, immediately growing angry: “Facing your own father with such an attitude—where did you learn propriety and shame!”
“Minister Jiang must be mistaken,” Jiang Ruan smiled: “Yesterday that half-life of blood debt was already repaid in full. This palace has no further connection with the Minister’s mansion—where would this father come from?”
Jiang Quan was left speechless. Everyone recalled yesterday’s scene of Jiang Ruan resolutely cutting her hand with a dagger in the snow. Jiang Quan’s old face flushed red, his usually refined and dignified expression showing some distortion.
“Silence!” the court clerk called out loudly. The guards on both sides stood in silent attention as Judge Sun Xu, in full official robes, strode in with great steps. He sat on the high seat in the center, his gaze sweeping downward as he handed the petition to the clerk beside him. The clerk received the petition, cleared his throat, and loudly read out the contents of the complaint.
The complaint detailed how Xia Yan and the Xia family had conspired to harm Zhao Mei and her three children, including the ambush against Jiang Xinzhi in the forest and those vicious methods from childhood—making listeners’ hearts race with alarm. The complaint also described Jiang Quan’s cold attitude, surprising everyone. Such scheming and infighting weren’t uncommon in wealthy families, but what was unusual was that Jiang Ruan and Jiang Xinzhi, as the legitimate children of the Minister’s mansion and Jiang Quan’s own flesh and blood, were met with such indifference and neglect from Jiang Quan. The clerk was quite a character—the petition was already written to stir anger, and he read it with rich emotion and dramatic intonation. It made the men in the crowd roll up their sleeves, wanting to rush in and beat Jiang Quan immediately, while women dabbed their eyes with handkerchiefs.
Though Zhao Guang and the three Zhao brothers had long known that Zhao Mei’s life at the Minister’s mansion was difficult, hearing each item read out now made their hearts ache. No one understood better than Jiang Ruan how painful and perilous Zhao Mei and her three children’s lives at the Jiang mansion had been, so she wrote carefully. The more the Zhao family heard, the angrier they became, their eyes blazing with fury, wanting to rush over and kill Jiang Quan immediately.
Jiang Quan frowned. Now everyone’s gaze toward him lacked any kindness—he had become the target of universal condemnation. He didn’t know when Jiang Ruan had gained such influence. Sun Xu’s temperament was well-known to colleagues over the years, yet his subordinates showed respectful humility toward Jiang Ruan. Could Jiang Ruan really have such capability? His earlier confidence had somehow been replaced by unease, and Jiang Quan’s expression was no longer as righteous as before.
The charges in the front part of the petition were all attempted crimes, but when read to the end, the focus shifted to discuss Zhao Mei’s poisoning. The petition stated clearly that the poison was administered by Xia Yan, while Jiang Quan was an accomplice because he knew but stood by watching, even secretly encouraging and inciting it!
When the petition finished, Jiang Quan couldn’t help but stand up angrily: “Nonsense! Complete nonsense! What poisoning? I never had anyone poison her! Zhao Mei died of illness—how dare you slander me so!”
In his anger toward Jiang Ruan, he came to hate even the long-deceased Zhao Mei, feeling that everything originated from her.
Zhao Guang immediately stood up from his seat, furious: “Jiang Quan, do you think I wouldn’t dare take your life right here?” He was naturally trained in battle, normally able to frighten children just by glaring and blowing out his whiskers. Now truly enraged, that bloodthirsty aura pressed forward, making Jiang Quan shudder and suddenly swallow the words he was about to say.
Zhao Yuanping’s eyes flashed with disdain as he laughed coldly: “Minister Jiang, what’s the rush? Your guilt hasn’t been determined yet—perhaps there’s still hope for a turnaround. If you really want to cry innocence, you might as well wait until the very last moment.”
These words carried subtle menace that made one’s heart tremble involuntarily. Jiang Quan was about to speak again when he heard Jiang Ruan’s smiling voice: “Not only that—I have evidence. Minister Jiang, in any case, please let Judge Sun examine the evidence first.”
Jiang Quan was shocked—he hadn’t expected Jiang Ruan to have evidence. After all, so many years had passed. He thought that even if Jiang Ruan dredged up old cases, she couldn’t stir up much trouble. Old cases without proof or evidence—what results could they yield? But when Jiang Ruan mentioned evidence, he couldn’t help feeling guilty, though his mouth remained stubborn: “What are you fabricating now?”
Sun Xu struck his gavel and called out: “Bring in the witness!”
Subordinates quickly brought in the so-called witness—a thin young woman whose features, upon closer inspection, could be called delicate. However, for some reason, she appeared somewhat haggard. Life’s hardships had probably made her look older than her years. Seeing her, Jiang Quan immediately sneered mockingly: “I don’t know this person. Even if she’s a witness, you should at least bring someone from the Minister’s mansion.”
The woman raised her head at his words, her voice somewhat hoarse: “After such a long separation, though Master doesn’t recognize this slave, this slave still recognizes Master.”
Jiang Quan was startled and looked carefully at the woman. After studying her for a long while, he exclaimed in shock: “You are… Hu Die?”
Hu Die smiled faintly: “Master still remembers this slave after all.”
“How are you here?” Jiang Quan pointed at her with a trembling hand. He had heard about Jiang Susu expelling Hu Die back then—as a mere maid who didn’t do her duties properly, mixing up the placenta bought from a medicine shop with the male fetus from a household miscarriage, ruining Jiang Susu’s reputation and frightening her. Such a maid deserved death, let alone a beating. But Jiang Susu had already sold her off, and Jiang Quan thought such a maid had long since died. He didn’t know why she appeared here.
Hu Die smiled, though the smile seemed strange. Her gaze toward Jiang Quan flashed briefly with hatred: “That this slave is here is naturally because I couldn’t bear the condemnation of conscience and came personally to testify for the innocent former mistress and young master and miss.”
“Nonsense!” Jiang Quan was so angry his face turned blue: “What are you talking about?” He turned to look at the faintly smiling Jiang Ruan and suddenly understood: “What benefits did she give you that you would slander me like this? Hu Die, do you know how severe the punishment is for slandering a court official?”
Jiang Quan seemed to have lost his reason, while the people in the hall watched with composure, including Judge Sun Xu. The more frantically Jiang Quan jumped like a cornered animal, the more he revealed his unsightly behavior. Sun Xu had received prior arrangements and, seeing the delight of Jiang Ruan and the Zhao family, naturally wouldn’t interfere.
Facing Jiang Quan’s somewhat crazed questioning, Hu Die shook her head: “The young miss gave me no benefits. Master knows in his heart what he has done—why put on this innocent act? You should know that there is divine justice in the unseen world. People are doing, Heaven is watching. When you acted back then, you should have anticipated this day of exposure.”
“You… why are you harming me like this!” Jiang Quan raged.
Hu Die lowered her head, acting as if she didn’t hear. Jiang Ruan, sitting to the side, smiled slightly. Of course Hu Die would come forward to testify for her—not only because of her promises, but fundamentally because Hu Die deeply hated the Jiang family. When Jiang Susu sold Hu Die over the placenta incident, it was truly Jiang Susu’s own evil doing. Even as a maid who had served by her side since childhood, she directly sold her to a ninth-class brothel. What kind of place was that brothel? For a girl to enter was equivalent to entering a pit of fire. What kind of life Hu Die lived could be imagined. In fact, as soon as Jiang Susu sold Hu Die, Jiang Ruan had Lu Zhu go out to bribe the madam at that brothel, secretly monitoring Hu Die’s every move. She wouldn’t let her die, but wouldn’t let her live well either. Having served beside Jiang Susu for so many years, Hu Die knew some of what Xia Yan and Jiang Susu had done. Jiang Ruan knew well that this was an excellent chess piece that would be useful someday.
Like now—this chess piece’s appearance had already cost Jiang Quan most of his advantage. When she appeared before Hu Die promising that if Hu Die was willing to testify, she would rescue her from her misery. Perhaps when Hu Die was first sold, hearing this condition, she wouldn’t have agreed, because Xia Yan was a shrewd person who chose extremely loyal maids for Jiang Susu. But after so much time, with Hu Die tortured to the point of barely clinging to life and unable to protect even herself, how could she care about loyalty? Over these years, she held only deep hatred for the Jiang mansion. If not for Xia Yan and her daughter, if not for Jiang Quan, how would she have been sold to such a lowly place? Time was a marvelous thing—hate could become love, and love could become hate. So when Jiang Ruan presented the conditions, Hu Die agreed without a second word.