Huo Ci’s peony updo was already heavy, and with his mother’s forceful jab, he lost his balance and fell backward, landing hard on his backside.
Thankfully, his reflexes were sharp—he caught himself with his hands.
Otherwise, he might have cracked his skull.
His palms burned, but the pain was nothing compared to the agony in his heart.
Seeing his mother’s two-faced nature firsthand shattered the beliefs he had held onto for so long.
Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to condemn her entirely.
Her cruelty toward Jiang Xingyan was real.
Her love for him was also real.
He was trapped in an impossible dilemma.
Baozhu strode in and barked orders at the maids to strip Huo Ci of his fine silks, jewels, and hair ornaments, leaving him in nothing but coarse hemp robes.
With a sneer, she tossed a wooden hairpin at his feet.
“Tie up your hair properly! What kind of disgraceful mess is this?”
Huo Ci numbly picked up the pin. He had no idea how to style a woman’s hair, so he simply gathered it into a loose knot.
Baozhu gave him a strange look before roughly grabbing his arm and forcing him to kneel properly.
Old Madam Huo had already settled into her carved armchair, lazily accepting bites of food from two maids.
She didn’t lift a finger—just a glance, and the maids rushed to feed her with silver chopsticks.
The meal dragged on for an entire hour.
Huo Ci knelt the entire time.
Only when Old Madam Huo reclined in satisfaction did Baozhu finally bark, “Clear the table!”—her sharp eyes fixed on the kneeling “Jiang Xingyan.”
Lost in thought about how to mediate between his mother and wife, Huo Ci didn’t notice Baozhu’s glare—until a foot slammed into his side.
Normally, he could have dodged.
But Jiang Xingyan’s body, weakened by hunger since yesterday, was at its limit.
Dizziness washed over him, and he took the kick full-force, collapsing sideways.
“Stop daydreaming! Get up and clean!”
Huo Ci pushed himself up, staring at the half-eaten dishes in disbelief.
He looked at Baozhu in confusion. “Are we… saving these?”
Baozhu scoffed. “Has your brain rotted too?”
She pointed to the slop bucket outside. “Dump it!”
Huo Ci was horrified.
His father had always preached against wasting food.
His mother, who claimed to follow his father’s teachings, had kept meals frugal—four dishes and one soup at most.
Leftovers were always eaten at the next meal.
Had that all been an act?
He stood frozen.
Even as a general, his salary couldn’t sustain such extravagance.
These untouched pastries could have been given to the servants!
Remembering the bland cabbage and tofu he’d eaten yesterday—while his mother feasted like this—bitterness welled up inside him.
Old Madam Huo watched “Jiang Xingyan” with cold suspicion.
Ever since Xiao Ya was born, this girl had been meek and obedient, silently working herself to the bone just to earn extra food for her daughter.
Why is she suddenly so bold today?
Does she think she’s untouchable now that Cier favors the brat?
With a cold snort, she didn’t even need to signal.
Baozhu knew exactly what to do.
She grabbed a rattan cane and lashed it across “Jiang Xingyan’s” back—twice.
“Yinzhu said you needed discipline. Seems she was right.”
Huo Ci gasped in pain, caught off guard.
Baozhu yanked him back to his knees as Old Madam Huo lazily spun the jade ring on her thumb.
“Do you think just because Xiao Ya isn’t here, I have no way to control you?”
Huo Ci’s heart pounded—this woman was a stranger.
“Remember, I hold the contracts of those four maids—Chun, Xia, Qiu, Dong. If you defy me again, I’ll sell them to the filthiest brothel in the city.”
Huo Ci felt like his throat had been crushed.
Finally, he bowed his head, voice trembling.
“Forgive me, Mother. I won’t dare again.”
Satisfied, Old Madam Huo watched as “Jiang Xingyan” obediently cleared the table, then carried the slop bucket to the kitchen under a servant’s supervision.
Baozhu smirked. “Merchant girls really are born low. Nothing but a cheap slave’s bones.”
Old Madam Huo chuckled. “Keep an eye on her. Once Yishu enters this household, we’ll deal with her and that brat—”
She didn’t finish, but Baozhu understood.
“Amitabha. It’s time to copy scriptures.”
…..
When the servant handed the food box to Xin Zhui, the deputy general looked like he might cry.
Yesterday, after carefully brewing medicine for Xiao Ya, he’d been dismissed without even a scrap of food—just in time to run into a nosy old maid pestering him with questions.
Hungry and irritated, he’d nearly punched her.
This morning, he’d stuffed himself with five meat buns before meeting the general, determined not to starve again.
Now, faced with his favorite crab dumplings, his stomach rebelled.
Jiang Xingyan frowned at his odd expression.
Was bringing him food a mistake?
But there was no time to dwell on it.
This was her first time attending court—in either life.
One misstep could cost her her head.
Her palms were damp with sweat.
Trying to sound casual, she asked, “Xin Zhui, what usually happens during morning court?”
Xin Zhui blinked. “How would I know? I’ve never gone in—just waited outside Taihemen.”
Then his eyes narrowed suspiciously. “…Shouldn’t you know, General?”
Jiang Xingyan sighed.
This kid’s too sharp.
She flicked his forehead. “Of course I know! I’m testing you! Or have you forgotten everything I’ve told you after court?”
Xin Zhui rubbed his head indignantly. “Of course not! These days, it’s always been about—”
“Well, if it isn’t General Huo—the one with the unruly servants! What’s that bulge in your robe?”
Xin Zhui’s words were cut off as a richly dressed official sauntered over, smirking.
Jiang Xingyan’s glare wiped the smile off his face.
She studied the man’s embroidered mandarin square—a egret.
A sixth-rank official allowed at court? Must be a censor.
Ignoring him, she dismounted.
The censor flushed with humiliation and stormed off.
Xin Zhui whispered, “That’s Censor Wang—the one who keeps impeaching us. General, you really should—”
“General Huo! Quite the spectacle you made yesterday!”
Jiang Xingyan barely held back a groan.
Can’t I get a straight answer?!
She turned, ready to snap—then froze.
This official wore a golden pheasant—second rank.
Xin Zhui gave a half-hearted bow. “Minister Liu.”
As a fellow second-rank official, Jiang Xingyan only needed to clasp her hands.
Minister Liu laughed heartily. “I hope you don’t blame me for not punishing that servant of yours?”
Ah. The Minister of Justice.
She forced a polite smile. “Of course not. Your integrity is beyond question.”
Liu stroked his beard meaningfully. “The Emperor was… displeased by yesterday’s incident. He’ll likely bring it up in court today. If you have grievances, now’s the time to air them.”
Jiang Xingyan’s stomach tightened.
Political wordplay. My least favorite.
She gave a noncommittal reply and followed him inside, carefully mimicking the other officials’ movements.
Outside the throne hall, clusters of ministers whispered among themselves.
A few fellow military officers approached, their eyes softening with pity when they spotted Xiao Ya asleep in her arms.
Then the head eunuch’s voice rang out:
“Presenting His Imperial Majesty!”
The officials straightened, bowed, and chanted in unison:
“Long live the Emperor!”
“Rise.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty!”
“Let the court commence. If there are memorials to present—”
Cough, cough…
Jiang Xingyan’s blood ran cold.
Oh no.
Xiao Ya was awake.