Meng Xianzong suppressed his anger, but Jiaxing’s anger was no small matter either.

Meng Xianzong only knew how to urge them to think of solutions, but why didn’t he admit that he wanted others to do his dirty work while refusing to bear the consequences? He repeatedly instructed them not to let anyone know the Meng family was plotting against Ye Yaming, but when she wouldn’t leave her home, what good methods could they possibly devise?

However, since Meng Xianzong still held his freedom certificate, Jiaxing also suppressed his anger, putting on an obedient appearance. With lowered eyes, he replied: “Yes, master, I understand.”

The capital enforced a curfew at night, so Ye Yaming wouldn’t go out, and the Qian family’s young master would also stay home. At this time, Jia’an and the other two could take a breather and didn’t need to monitor them.

That evening, the three gathered in Jia’an’s room to drink and talk.

“Several days have passed, and in a few more days it will be her wedding day. I don’t think Ye Yaming will go out anymore. If we can’t complete this task, what should we do?” Jia’an asked glumly after taking a sip of wine.

His wife had recently been introduced to a small residence through an acquaintance that was both affordable and well-located. The owner had lost money gambling and needed to raise funds, so he was preparing to sell his idle property. The only requirement was a quick sale, as creditors wouldn’t wait.

Therefore, his wife asked him daily when the master’s assignment would be completed so they could regain their freedom, buy the house, and establish their household.

Seeing that the other two remained silent, Jia’an narrowed his eyes and continued: “Do you think, even if we complete the task successfully, he will return our freedom certificates?”

The three fell silent.

The Meng household now had only one old steward, three maids and matrons serving Madam Kong, two personal servants attending to Meng Xianzong, and their three families. Their wives and children worked in the kitchen, served the young lady of the house, or managed the cleaning.

If the three families were released, the Meng household would be left with just six servants. The maids and matrons around Madam Kong were her confidants, formerly considered as secondary young ladies with their servant girls. Meng Xianzong’s two personal servants were similar.

If their three families left, could these remaining people even cook a proper meal? They’d probably starve to death.

Moreover, a lean camel is still larger than a horse. The Meng family appeared to have fallen on hard times—moving to a relatively smaller residence, dismissing concubines, selling many servants—but Jia’an and the others knew this was all for show, to appease Duke Ying’s household.

Meng Xianzong not only had three shops but also several hundred mu of farmland, certainly enough to support their three families. If he released them, he would have to buy new servants.

But how could new servants be as useful as those with experience? Not to mention kitchen and cleaning staff, where would he find capable individuals like the three of them?

Originally, everyone had been blinded by Meng Xianzong’s promises, but now, prompted by Jia’an’s reminder, they suddenly came to their senses.

“So what do we do?” Jiawang asked.

Among the three, Jia’an had the quickest mind and the most ruthless methods.

He stroked his wine cup with his finger and said: “In this household, there are only three masters left. The madam and the fourth young lady are both helpless individuals…”

At this point, he stopped speaking, slowly drank the wine in his cup, set it down, picked up his chopsticks, grabbed a roasted soybean, and tossed it into his mouth, chewing with a crisp sound.

Jiaxing and Jiawang were accustomed to his habit of leaving sentences half-finished. When Jia’an had a wicked idea, even if he’d thought it through, he wouldn’t voice it completely but would let them interpret it themselves.

If they understood, then it would be considered a joint decision, and they could proceed; if they didn’t understand, he wouldn’t elaborate further, and the matter would be dropped.

The two pondered his half-spoken sentence for a while, then Jiaxing suddenly moved closer to Jia’an and said in an extremely low voice: “Are you suggesting that if the master were no longer in this household…”

Jia’an’s lips curled into a grin: “Those are your words, not mine.”

Jiawang’s eyes lit up.

Why hadn’t he thought of this? If the master were gone, the madam would be just a helpless woman, and the fourth young lady was only twelve years old. Wouldn’t everything then be under their control?

He excitedly said: “I know where the master hides his private money.”

The Meng family not only had land and shops left, but also some very valuable gold, silver, and fine goods. Meng Xianzong was waiting for Duke Ying’s household to forget about them, so he could pawn some valuables, make a comeback, and restart his business.

Jiaxing also knew that both Meng Xianzong and Madam Kong had hidden treasures.

After some thought, he frowned and said: “Steward Chen is the only problem.”

“That’s simple…” Jia’an beckoned them closer, and the three heads huddled together, whispering for quite some time.

These men, accustomed to doing evil deeds for the Meng father and son, were very patient. They waited for several more days, watching as Ye Yaming’s wedding day approached while she remained indoors. Their scheme appeared to be failing, and Meng Xianzong was so angry he wanted to curse.

Jia’an put on a dejected appearance: “The failure of this plan wasn’t due to our lack of effort, but because we simply couldn’t find an opportunity to act.”

He raised his eyes, looking hopefully at Meng Xianzong: “Master, about your previous promise to us…”

Meng Xianzong’s suppressed anger finally exploded: “What did I promise? I promised to release you after the task was completed. Has it been completed? You come to me when you haven’t accomplished anything? Do you think I’m a great philanthropist from the Ci’an Hall?”

Hearing this response, Jia’an wasn’t surprised at all.

He replied timidly: “Please calm your anger, master.”

As he spoke, he reluctantly pulled out a wine flask and placed it before Meng Xianzong: “Master, this is imperial wine from the palace. I got it from a eunuch I met when I accompanied the young master to the palace before. If you’re in a bad mood, perhaps you could enjoy a few cups with Steward Chen.”

Hearing the words “imperial wine” and “young master,” Meng Xianzong was reminded of his son. Since the age of seventeen, his son had taken over the Meng family affairs, sparing him from any worries. How different from now, when every day was filled with troubles.

Ever since the news of Meng Chengwei’s death, with the household repeatedly targeted by Duke Ying’s family, he had developed the habit of drowning his sorrows in wine. The person who accompanied him in drinking was none other than Steward Chen, who had been loyal to him for over twenty years.

He caressed the wine flask, pain flashing in his eyes: “Fine, tell the kitchen to prepare some dishes, and summon Steward Chen.”

Shortly thereafter, Meng Xianzong was drinking with Steward Chen, and they continued until late into the night.

“Brother Jiafu, these are pastries my mother made. The master and Steward Chen might drink until who knows when. You must be hungry, right? Have some pastries to fill your stomach,” a young maid approached Meng Xianzong’s servant with a plate, offering him pastries.

“Thank you, Sister Chunhua. I am indeed hungry. Please thank your mother for me,” Jiafu, both hungry and sleepy, was grateful for the plate of pastries that arrived just as he was about to collapse.

He glanced at the two men inside the room, who were drinking to the point of nearly sliding under the table, and slowly ate the pastries.