After the three concubines finished their coquettish complaints against Sang Shisi, their gazes landed precisely on Ji Yingying’s face.
The wine-serving maiden was the first to strike, lunging at Ji Yingying with the same swiftness she had shown when bumping into the pillar that day. “You little hussy! How dare you seduce our lord!”
No one had anticipated this sudden turn of events.
Ji Yaoting was completely stunned, unable to process that the wine-serving maiden was cursing his sister.
Young Master Zhu instinctively reached out to intervene but suddenly realized that if he didn’t withdraw his hand, he would end up embracing the wine-serving maiden. He hastily pulled back as if retreating from a cliff’s edge.
The wine-serving maiden successfully advanced, reaching to grab Ji Yingying’s hair. “Shameless…”
Ji Yingying managed to dodge her head in time but was caught by the arm, causing her to furrow her delicate brows in pain. “Let go!”
At this moment, the other two concubines rolled up their sleeves and approached with their maids in tow. “Beat this shameless woman!”
“What are you doing?!” Sang Shisi had finally come to his senses, but by then his three concubines and their maids had already surrounded Ji Yingying. He was hopping anxiously on his feet.
The three concubines had already plotted this out: if this young lady successfully entered the Chief Secretary’s mansion as a concubine, this would serve as a show of authority. If the arrangement fell through, preventing a fourth concubine from sharing their lord’s affections would be a win-win situation. Already provoked to anger, they had planned along the way to teach Ji Yingying a lesson, completely ignoring Sang Shisi’s words.
Ji Yingying found herself surrounded by a group of women hurling insults. No one heeded Sang Shisi’s words. Ji Yaoting and Young Master Zhu were paralyzed, only able to circle the periphery shouting useless phrases like, “Let’s talk this through!”
In women’s fights, hair-pulling and nail-scratching were common tactics. Despite her fierce nature, Ji Yingying couldn’t fend off so many opponents. She cried out in pain, “Brother, save me! They’ve gone mad!”
“Let her go immediately!” Sang Shisi rushed forward, both angry and anxious. He was angry that his concubines wouldn’t listen to him and anxious because he wanted to play the hero but couldn’t restrain all three concubines at once. Like trying to hold down floating gourds in water—press one down, another pops up—he had no chance to embrace and protect Ji Yingying.
Suddenly, his grip loosened, and he nearly fell along with the concubine he was holding. Sang Shisi stumbled a few steps, watching as Yang Jingyuan effortlessly pulled another concubine away and pushed her toward him. He hurriedly steadied her.
Yang Jingyuan swiftly caught the wine-serving maiden’s wrist as she was about to strike Ji Yingying, pushed her away, and shouted, “Sang Shisi, control your concubines!” He then lowered his head to ask Ji Yingying, “Are you alright?”
In his imagination, a wronged young lady should be crying and leaning against his chest for comfort. Yang Jingyuan had already prepared words of consolation.
Surely, she would thank him this time?
Yang Jingyuan felt the silver tael he had given to the tea-serving boy was well spent. It had allowed him to play the hero. He had also managed to get a small revenge on Sang Shisi—he was the heroic rescuer while Sang was just a thoughtless bit player.
Ji Yingying remained silent as she tucked her loose strands of hair back in place.
She raised her head to look at Yang Jingyuan. There were no tears in her eyes, which were as clear and bright as a pristine pool.
Standing so close, Yang Jingyuan could see his reflection in her clear eyes, and for a moment, he felt a twinge of guilt.
Ji Yaoting and Young Master Zhu approached simultaneously, one called “Sister” and the other “Second Miss,” both full of concern: “Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine. Brother, go ask Lord Sang what this is all about.”
Ji Yaoting nodded firmly, determined to get to the bottom of this. His sister couldn’t be wrongly accused and attacked like this.
After sending Ji Yaoting away, Ji Yingying softly said, “Second Brother Zhu, I need to speak with Third Young Master Yang.” Young Master Zhu stopped in his tracks, dejected. Who could blame him for not daring to pull those crazed women away like Yang Jingyuan had? It was natural for Ji Yingying to be grateful to Young Master Yang. He turned around, facing away from the two.
Ji Yingying walked toward a nearby ginkgo tree, glancing back to see Yang Jingyuan following. She gave a slight smile and said softly, “I remember now. On the night of the Mid-Autumn Festival, besides Zhou Qilang, there was someone else standing beside you—it was Sang Shisi. Making fools of my brother, Young Master Zhu, and me? Third Young Master Yang, I never thought you could be so contemptible!”
Yang Jingyuan was stunned. He had never expected Ji Yingying to remember who had been standing beside him that night. This wasn’t his intention. What had been his intention? Seeing her while riding past the Qingyang Temple, he couldn’t help but dismount to seek her out. Then he wanted to win her favor with a sugar qilin. Later, knowing she and Young Master Zhu were admiring chrysanthemums in the temple, he followed them in. After that, he seized the opportunity, spending silver to have the temple boy inform Sang Shisi’s concubines… On the night of the Mid-Autumn Festival, when Zhao Xiuyuan had led people to help her, she looked up at him while the evening breeze lifted her clothes. Even from that distance, he could sense her tender affection and joy toward Zhao Xiuyuan.
If only she would look at him that way.
Ji Yingying adjusted the silk shawl on her arm and turned to walk away from him.
Yang Jingyuan reached out and grabbed her arm. He saw Ji Yingying turn her head to look at him, her eyes full of contempt. Her gaze pushed back any words of apology he might have had. He asked softly, “In your eyes, am I truly worth nothing?”
Ji Yingying replied with surprise: “How could a young master of the Jin Prince Yang family say he’s worth nothing?”
The joy that had begun to show in Yang Jingyuan’s eyes hadn’t even had time to become a smile before it vanished at Ji Yingying’s mocking tone.
“You’re very wealthy, aren’t you?”
Her gaze was like a small knife, piercing Yang Jingyuan’s heart. His lips trembled, and he finally released her arm.
Ji Yingying spoke coldly: “One is the son of an official, and the other is from a wealthy family. We common folk can’t afford to offend you. Do you know why I sent my brother and Young Master Zhu away instead of exposing this matter publicly? I simply didn’t want them getting into trouble for my sake. Third Young Master Yang, if you haven’t completely lost your conscience, please stop bothering me.”
Her footsteps crushed the ginkgo leaves on the ground, making crackling sounds. To Yang Jingyuan, it was the sound of his heart breaking.
Sang Shisi was bowing and apologizing to Ji Yaoting, while his three concubines stood behind him with lowered heads. Soon after, the Ji siblings and Young Master Zhu took their leave.
What a pity—the young lady who had been almost within his grasp had now flown away. Sang Shisi sighed, then turned to berate his concubines: “Look what you’ve done!”
The wine-serving maiden covered her mouth with a handkerchief, laughing: “Such a lovely young lady, no wonder…” Her phoenix eyes glanced coquettishly at Sang Shisi, her tone particularly plaintive, “No wonder my lord abandoned us to enjoy himself alone here.”
Sang Shisi felt his resolve weakening and coaxed, “Nonsense. You are my precious darlings! Go wait at the restaurant, I’ll join you shortly.”
The elderly maids accompanied the three concubines as they left. Sang Shisi strode toward Yang Jingyuan, who was leaning against the ginkgo tree: “You, Yang Jingyuan! You informed them and ruined my plans!”