As dusk fell, Lingmiao Temple rang its bells and drums, closing its doors to visitors. The young maid who had been hiding behind the tree earlier quietly made her way back to the Jing’an Marquis’ mansion, dutifully reporting all she had seen and heard to Ming Chu and Concubine Liu.
After listening, Ming Chu scoffed, “Today, seeing that Shen Yu, I mistakenly thought he was a promising talent with some spirit and daring, far superior to his sister who only writes sappy poetry. But it turns out he’s just as common, unable to resist the charms of these delicate city girls!”
The young maid felt something was amiss.
Sappy poetry, delicate girls.
She couldn’t help but glance at Concubine Liu.
Concubine Liu: “…”
Ming Chu realized and quickly explained, “Mother, I didn’t mean you!”
Concubine Liu rubbed her forehead, wondering how she had spoiled Ming Chu to become like this.
She waved her hand, dismissing the young maid, then said resignedly, “Chu Chu, how many times have I told you? Now that we’re back in the capital, many things are different from before. Don’t offend the Madam, and don’t provoke Ming Dan. Why won’t you listen?”
“I just sent someone to watch at the temple. How is that provoking? Besides, it’s not my fault she’s so improper!” Ming Chu slammed the table, rising indignantly.
“What do you mean by improper? Don’t spread such talk outside!” Concubine Liu warned.
“I know! I’m just talking in my courtyard. You’ve become too cautious since we returned,” Ming Chu complained, tired of the constant lectures. “Father already promised to find me a good match. Why do you need to be so careful and submissive to that Madam Pei?”
“I’m just…”
Seeing Concubine Liu about to launch into another lecture, Ming Chu impatiently grabbed her riding crop and left the courtyard.
“Chu Chu!”
“Stop right there!”
Concubine Liu called out twice but to no avail. Clutching her embroidered handkerchief, she couldn’t help but show a hint of worry in her eyes at her daughter’s temperament.
—
Days passed, and aside from Shen Yu’s abrupt visit, Ming Dan’s stay at Lingmiao Temple was relatively peaceful and quiet.
However, karma had caught up with her former fiancé, Liang Zixuan, who was in dire straits at his mansion these past few days.
In fact, after his failed attempt to make Ming Dan fall into the water, Liang Zixuan knew his mother would send Zhu’er away and wouldn’t allow her to raise the child. He even knew that his delicate cousin would likely never have the chance to enter his Lingguo Duke’s mansion again.
But he didn’t expect his mother to casually marry Zhu’er off as a second wife to a steward in Lizhou! This was truly absurd!
Perhaps it was due to a man’s inexplicable possessiveness—he might not want her, but he certainly wouldn’t allow another man to have her after he discarded her. Liang Zixuan, who had been furious at Zhu’er for ruining the engagement, upon hearing the reason for the commotion and after Zhu’er tearfully pleaded with him while holding their child, redirected all his anger towards his mother, Madam Li, who had controlled him for years.
“Mother, Zhu’er has already obediently left for my future’s sake as you wished. Why are you being so cruel to her? As for Cousin Dan, it’s common for men to have multiple wives and concubines with several children. If we explain it to her properly, she might not refuse to accept Zhu’er and little Min’er! If you hadn’t schemed to make her fall into the water and angered the Jing’an Marquis’ family, how could such a good marriage have come to this?”
“You unfilial son! Are you now blaming everything on your mother?” Madam Li was stunned for a moment, then felt a sharp pain in her heart from anger. Seeing Zhu’er’s delicate and timid demeanor, she grabbed a teacup from the table and hurled it forcefully, “For this cheap woman, you dare speak to me in such a tone!”
Zhu’er quickly hid behind Liang Zixuan, sobbing.
“Cousin, don’t be afraid!”
Liang Zixuan stretched out his arm to protect Zhu’er, but his heart was far less calm than his outward appearance suggested.
Madam Li’s authority had been ingrained for years, and the obedience and fear towards her seemed to have become an instinct, difficult to overcome in a short time.
This instinct was shared not only by Liang Zixuan but also by the Duke of Lingguo. So even though the family was in such a disgraceful state, the Duke, as the head of the family, remained silent and uninvolved, as if these matters had nothing to do with him. He was unwilling to intervene, and perhaps couldn’t even if he wanted to.
But in this world, troubles don’t pass you by just because you choose not to get involved.
While the Zhu’er incident had turned the household upside down without resolution, after just two days, teahouses in the capital suddenly began spreading insider gossip about the Duke’s family.
After the old Duke of Lingguo passed away, the family remained undivided due to the old Madam’s presence.
The old Madam favored her eldest son and had pressured the old Duke years ago to request the title of heir apparent for the current Duke, who lacked talent and virtue.
In truth, in terms of official and social abilities, the current Duke was far inferior to his second and third brothers, and even to his two half-brothers.
Now, with five branches of the family living together in two connected mansions, separated only by a moon gate, the large and diverse household was already a mess, breeding numerous scandals.
This time, the insider gossip spreading through the capital’s teahouses involved all five branches of the family, each equally tainted.
The two most shocking revelations were:
The Duke of Lingguo was having an affair with the second branch’s newly acquired concubine;
The Duchess of Lingguo and the third branch’s master were in love before her marriage, but because the third branch couldn’t inherit the title, Madam Li forced her to marry the current Duke against her will!
The storytellers in teahouses spoke with one voice, providing names and vivid details.
The Duke of Lingguo’s mansion was in complete chaos!
Usually, despite living together, the family maintained a united front outside the mansion despite minor conflicts. Firstly, with the old Madam still alive, no one wanted to suggest dividing the family and risk being labeled unfilial. Secondly, each branch had its strengths, and they needed to rely on each other. They could at least maintain a facade of harmony.
But this time, the various branches threw all decorum to the wind. There was shouting, fighting, and utter disorder as they sought to settle both old and new grudges, showing none of the etiquette expected of a noble, long-established family.
Outside, people had initially been skeptical of the storytellers’ tales, considering them mere entertainment without evidence. However, the Duke’s family’s instinctive reaction proved the rumors true.
Especially telling was the situation in the third branch. The master and mistress had long been estranged, their marital relationship cold. Now, learning of her husband’s past romance with the Duchess before their marriage, and recalling some unusual signs from the past, the third branch’s mistress was furious. She returned to her maiden family, insisting on divorce, thus confirming the sordid affairs of the Duke’s entire family.
While many noble families in the capital had their secrets, none had ever caused such a citywide scandal, known to everyone in every street and alley.
These past few days, after finishing their tales, the storytellers in teahouses and taverns would often add: The Jing’an Marquis’ young lady is beautiful, virtuous, and talented. Fortunately, she broke off the engagement with the Duke’s family in time, or else such a pearl would have been tarnished!
The Censorate, responsible for monitoring officials, often accused people based on hearsay, creating issues even where none existed. With such a big scandal handed to them, it was as if their monthly quota had been gift-wrapped.
The censors submitted memorials against the Duke of Lingguo for three consecutive days, implicating all the officials from the second, third, fourth, and fifth branches of the family.
Originally, at worst, it would have been a matter of poor household management and lack of personal virtue, hardly worth discussing in formal settings.
But after three days of continuous accusations and a flurry of memorials, Emperor Chengkang was forced to memorize the names of all the Duke’s concubines, illegitimate children, and affairs just from listening to people read the memorials to him.
On the fourth day of court, when a censor stepped out to accuse the Duke of Lingguo again, Emperor Chengkang interrupted halfway, saying irritably, “We have already issued an edict of reprimand. Stop bringing these trivial family matters to court! Is this imperial court an ancestral hall for the Liang family?!”
The censors were indignant. How could they not criticize when the Duke’s family had fallen to such depths of immorality, yet only received a minor reprimand?
So after accusing the Duke’s family, the bolder ones even admonished Emperor Chengkang, saying he was being too lenient and protective of the Duke’s family, violating the principles of righteous rulership!
Over the next two days, memorials poured onto Emperor Chengkang’s desk like snowflakes, with increasing intensity. These officials seemed determined to go after the Duke’s family. Since His Majesty had called these “trivial family matters,” they found non-family matters to accuse as well.
For instance, they accused a nephew of the Duke’s family of forcibly abducting a commoner girl, the third branch’s master of accepting bribes in official evaluations at the Ministry of Personnel, and even the Duke himself for not attending his sinecure position regularly.
Emperor Chengkang suppressed the situation for two more days, but the accusations didn’t diminish. The reasons became more righteous, invoking principles like “The law applies equally to prince and commoner.” The Duke’s family wasn’t even part of the imperial clan or related by marriage, so on what grounds should they be exempt?
Emperor Chengkang seemed unable to withstand the pressure. Reluctantly, he issued an edict listing dozens of charges including accepting bribes, poor household management, moral failings, and idleness. The Duke of Lingguo was demoted to Marquis, and his descendants would no longer enjoy the privilege of inheriting the same rank. He was also exiled to a distant location. The officials from other branches of the family also faced various degrees of demotion and punishment.
—
“What did you say? Demoted and exiled?” Ming Dan was quite surprised by the news Bai Minmin brought, forgetting even to look at the exquisite snacks she had been craving for days.
“Yes, I heard they’re leaving tomorrow. Finally, justice is served!” Bai Minmin said gleefully. “I heard Liang Zixuan is also at odds with his mother because of that good cousin of his. Now the Duke’s… oh, I mean the Marquis’ mansion is in chaos, with fights every day. Many servants without formal contracts have already left.”
Zhou Jingwan, who had come along, added softly, “Moreover, yesterday the censors accused them again. After the demotion, they failed to make the required changes in time, so the Ministry of Rites has sent people to supervise.”
Bai Minmin: “Exactly, it’s so satisfying!”
Zhou Jingwan: “With them no longer in the capital, at least we won’t have to see them anymore.”
Ming Dan paused.
Well… she was quite happy about the Duke’s family’s misfortune.
The worse their reputation, the more it highlighted her innocence.
But, “When did I learn so many secrets about the Duke’s family? The few matters I asked my uncle to investigate were only related to the Duke and Duchess, weren’t they?”