Mudan’s expression remained unchanged as she calmly replied, “May I ask, Grandmother, what did your granddaughter-in-law promise but fail to do? Please instruct me, and I will certainly improve.”
The old madam said, “When I was sleeping, I told you I was hot and asked you to fan me. Did you?”
“I did. Since you didn’t specify how long to fan, when I saw you were asleep, I stopped. Excessive cooling isn’t good for the elderly’s bones,” Mudan explained. She left the old madam’s side to pour her a cup of warm water. “You’ve broken into a sweat. Drinking some water might make you feel better.”
The old madam was angry but couldn’t find words to refute it. She turned her head away sharply, “I don’t want it!”
Mudan didn’t insist. She set down the cup and went to light candles, asking, “Do you want to get up? Red’er came earlier to ask about serving dinner.”
The old madam sat motionless but couldn’t resist wanting to know if Madam Du had come out to manage affairs. Ignoring Mudan, she called loudly for Red’er. Red’er hurried in, noting the awkward atmosphere between the two, and quickly asked, “Old Madam, what are your instructions?”
The old madam said harshly, “What time is it? It was already dark, and no one called me to get up. Where’s the madam? What is she doing? How are things outside?” In Mudan’s presence, she refused to directly ask about the situation outside, not wanting Mudan to know about the morning’s events and potentially tell Wang Ayou, which would be embarrassing.
Red’er understood and quickly replied, “It’s already the hour of Xu (7-9 pm). The madam just finished her meal and came to check on you. Hearing you were asleep, she didn’t come in and went to arrange tomorrow’s affairs.”
Mudan was slightly surprised. Madam Du had come but for some reason hadn’t entered. Was it because she knew Mudan was here? But that didn’t seem right; Madam Du was usually so good at pretending, why would she avoid the situation today?
Everything seemed to be back on track. The old madam sighed in relief, then began to worry again: “Why haven’t they returned yet?” Finding a way to criticize Mudan, she continued, “They’ve been gone so long without returning, and you don’t seem concerned at all. You look quite at ease…”
Mudan replied, “My mother taught me not to cry easily or show alarm in front of elders. No matter how worried or upset, we must endure it. We shouldn’t make elders sad or worried, so I’ve been holding it in.”
“Well! You have an answer for everything, don’t you?” the old madam thought. She habitually raised her hand to strike the couch in anger but realized she couldn’t find sufficient reason to criticize Mudan. After a moment’s thought, she said, “Who knows if what you’re saying is true or false? I see you’re not bothered at all, you can endure anything.” But because of the pause, her tone had lost some of its earlier force.
Mudan looked at her sincerely, “Grandmother, you can remain unmoved even if Mount Tai collapses before you. Of course, I should follow your example.”
“Unmoved even if Mount Tai collapses?” The old madam had never heard such a description before. She was quite pleased with it and snorted, calling for Red’er to serve dinner. As usual, the younger generation was expected to serve the elders before eating themselves.
The old madam contentedly enjoyed Mudan’s service, then pointed at her leftover food, saying, “It’s quite good, you should try some.” She meant for Mudan to eat her leftovers. Mudan had no appetite at all. Her eyes reddened slightly, and she said in a wronged but restrained tone, “Thank you for your kindness, Grandmother, but I’m so worried about Dalang that I really can’t eat.”
The old madam felt outmaneuvered. She had just accused Mudan of not being worried, yet she could eat while Mudan couldn’t. Didn’t this suggest that she was less concerned than Mudan? Choking on her anger, she scolded, “Just now you said you’d remain unmoved even if Mount Tai collapsed, and now you can’t even eat? You’re something!”
Mudan reluctantly said, “Well… then I’ll just have a bowl of porridge.”
Suddenly, Jiang Chong’s tired voice was heard at the door: “Mother.”
The old madam forgot about Mudan and quickly rose, “You’re back? How did it go?”
Mudan hurriedly looked behind Jiang Chong, anxiously searching for Jiang Changyang. Jiang Changyang, standing behind Jiang Chong, gave her a relaxed smile and even made a subtle funny face. Could it be that everything was fine? The huge weight that had been pressing on Mudan’s heart suddenly lifted, and she smiled sweetly at Jiang Changyang.
The old madam saw their exchange of glances in front of elders and strongly disapproved, snorting heavily. Seeing Mudan lower her eyes, she then asked, “How did it go? Why are you back so late?”
Jiang Chong looked terrible. He took the tea Mudan offered but just held it, saying nothing. The old madam began to panic. It seemed not only had the matter not been resolved well, but it had somehow implicated Jiang Chong. How could this be? That vile troublemaker must be satisfied now, causing misfortune to several families, and even bringing bad luck to Jiang Chong. What to do? She slammed her cane on the ground and said sharply, “Go call Du Shi here for me!”
Mudan suppressed her alarm and looked intently at Jiang Changyang. In an instant, she had thought of many possibilities. Jiang Changyang’s safe return meant there was no major issue; the worst outcome would be a suspension from duties. For her, a suspension wasn’t a big deal – he was still himself. But for Jiang Changyang, it would be different. He yearned to achieve merit and fame, and his pride wouldn’t allow him to rely on family influence. He wanted to prove himself and gain recognition. If it were true, this would be a significant blow to him. As his wife, she might not need to be the first to know the good news, but she hoped to be the first to know the bad, to share the burden with him.
Jiang Changyang caught Mudan’s gaze and shook his head slightly.
Jiang Chong stopped Red’er, who was about to fetch Madam Du, and turned to the old madam, saying in a low voice, “What’s the point of calling her? I don’t want to see her.”
The old madam, clutching her chest and breathing rapidly, asked, “What exactly happened? Tell me quickly! Were you punished too?”
Jiang Chong found it difficult to explain. The person who had been suspended was him. It was a huge joke. He had knelt at the palace gate for a long time before being granted an audience with the emperor. What could he say? He dared not explain much. He could only say it was a misunderstanding, that there had been a small dispute, but the claim that Jiang Changyang had angered the old madam to illness was false, a rumor, and that the old madam was in good health.
He waited anxiously, hearing no response from above. After a long time, the emperor finally spoke: “I remember you took leave yesterday to attend to illness at home. It seems your son also took leave?”
Sweating profusely, he hurriedly replied, “That was an old ailment that flares up occasionally. It usually takes just two days to recover and has nothing to do with this. If Your Majesty doubts this, you can send someone to inquire.”
Another silence followed, with only the sound of the vermilion brush scratching on memorials. He hadn’t knelt for such a long time in years, and his back and knees were starting to ache. Just as he was feeling miserable, the emperor finally stopped and ordered him to be seated.
Before his bottom touched the embroidered stool, he heard the emperor say, “Your intelligence is quite keen. You have good connections.”
With a loud thud, Jiang Chong fell off the stool in shock. He dared not say anything, just kneeling motionless on the ground. He could feel the emperor’s cold gaze scanning back and forth over his head and neck like the sharpest knife coldly sliding across. He knew how bloody and ruthless this emperor’s path had been, from an ordinary prince to heir apparent, to where he was today. He had committed a grave mistake.
After a long while, Jiang Changyang’s voice was heard outside, requesting an audience. Soon after, Jiang Changyang, dressed in plain clothes, entered and knelt beside him without a word. At that moment, Jiang Chong thought it was all over; the emperor already knew everything and had made his decision.
The emperor looked coldly at Jiang Changyang and threw the memorials from Yun Xiao and others in front of him: “You’ve disappointed me! What do you have to say for yourself?”
Every word Jiang Changyang uttered filled Jiang Chong with genuine fear. If not for the emperor’s presence, he would have rushed to cover Jiang Changyang’s mouth and slap him. But he dared not; he could only watch helplessly as Jiang Changyang spoke those terrifying words.
Jiang Changyang calmly read through Yun Xiao’s memorial, then kowtowed to the emperor: “Your subject has nothing to say and submits to Your Majesty’s judgment. However, before that, there are a few points I don’t understand and wish to ask Your Majesty for clarification. After hearing the answers, I will accept whatever decision Your Majesty makes.”
The emperor said indifferently, “You truly embody the saying ‘hearing the Way in the morning, one can die content in the evening.'”
Jiang Changyang then briefly recounted the events of that day: “From the perspective of not listening to Grandmother’s words and angering her, I am indeed unfilial. But what is true filial piety? Is it watching Grandmother continue to err without correcting her, throwing aside justice and correct principles to maintain one’s reputation and filial image? Or is it bearing the criticism and insisting on the right path? I don’t know what is truly correct, I only chose what I believed was right. Even if I had to do it again, I would act the same way.” He added, “Yun Xiao’s words are not entirely correct. I saw Grandmother today, and she is in good spirits and still able to manage household affairs.”
The emperor sneered, “Then, look at the second memorial. What does it say? How do you explain that?”
Jiang Changyang read on, finding accusations of his close association with Prince Jing. He had long anticipated such a day would come, regretting only that Fang Bohui had been too conspicuous. After pondering for a long time, he decided to say nothing.
Seeing his silence, the emperor said, “Why are you quiet now? Weren’t you full of reasons just a moment ago?”
Jiang Changyang smiled bitterly, “This could be considered factual. Even now, there’s a gardener sold by Prince Jing in my wife’s garden. I have nothing to defend. I submit to Your Majesty’s judgment.”
Before the emperor could speak, someone entered to whisper a report. The father and son knelt in the great hall for a long time, until nearly nightfall. Finally, a message came: Jiang Changyang was to reflect on his actions in seclusion for a month, and the matters of filial impiety and close association with Prince Jing were to be dropped. The unfortunate one was Jiang Chong, who was told to settle family affairs before returning to his duties – essentially a disguised suspension.
Jiang Chong was terrified, feeling the emperor’s eyes were everywhere, aware of his every move. It seemed nothing at home had been kept secret. He was also indignant – how had he become the one at fault, the subject of ridicule?