Chapter 131: The Concubine

Having roughly anticipated Ji Shuran’s next move, Jiang Li felt a sense of relief settle over her.

There is nothing worse than being caught off guard, facing unknown challenges without any preparation. But once you know what lies ahead—even if it is hardship—there is always a way to follow the clues and find an escape. It is not helplessness.

Jiang Li was aware that after the Xue family incident, Princess Yongning had set her sights on her. Regardless of how Shen Yurong might react, the imperious Princess Yongning would inevitably seek reasons to trouble her in the days ahead. As long as Ji Shuran and her daughter behaved themselves, Jiang Li had no intention to waste time on this. But since the Ji family had not changed their ways, Jiang Li firmly believed that keeping them within the Jiang household was unwise.

She needed to remove all these unwanted elements.

With Zhao Ke already gone, Jiang Li sat on the couch, a question stirring in her mind. Why did the Ji family relentlessly pursue her? Even if Ye Zhenzhen had left behind a child years ago, that child should have been married off by now—there was no need for such ruthless extermination. Even if they coveted the marriage between Zhou Yanbang and herself, there was no reason to kill her off. Everyone knew that Jiang Li had killed her mother and brother—an undeniable fact in broad daylight—but before that, she and Ji Shuran were said to have gotten along fairly well.

Hatred does not arise without cause. Though rumors later claimed Jiang Li was scheming, pretending to befriend her stepmother only to cause Ji Shuran to miscarry when she became pregnant, Jiang Li believed she was too young then, growing up in such an environment without guidance in cunning or scheming. How could she have reached such depths to even outwit Ji Shuran?

Something about all this struck Jiang Li as suspicious. However, so much time had passed that many details were difficult to investigate. Now, with Ji Shuran pressing relentlessly, Jiang Li felt a determination to thoroughly uncover the truth. If there were any hidden secrets, they could become tools to use against Ji Shuran.

No matter what, she would return tomorrow to question Zhao Ke again.

With that thought, Jiang Li lay down to sleep.

At Yao Guang Manor, Jiang Youyao also found no rest that night.

Her maid, Jin Hua, had followed Jiang Li’s handmaiden Tong’er down the corridor today. Tong’er had dropped a letter without noticing. Jin Hua picked it up and, upon opening it, discovered it was a summons from the Ningyuan Marquis’s residence addressed to Jiang Li. Wasting no time, she immediately gave it to Jiang Youyao.

Unable to sleep, Jiang Youyao repeatedly traced her fingers over the letter. It was not from Zhou Yanbang but from Jiang Yuer. Thinking of Jiang Yuer filled Jiang Youyao with bitter resentment. Zhou Yanbang was originally Jiang Yuer’s brother-in-law; now he had become her husband. The man she loved was now embracing Jiang Yuer every night. Although Jiang Yuer was only a concubine and Shen Ruyun was Zhou Yanbang’s lawful wife, the fact that the despised third wife—once utterly disregarded and scorned—had stolen her husband made Jiang Youyao want to tear Jiang Yuer apart.

But Jiang Yuer had already been taken into the Ningyuan Marquis’s household. Soon, the wedding between Shen Ruyun and Zhou Yanbang would come. Jiang Youyao felt utterly powerless. She wanted to confront Zhou Yanbang but did not know how to express her feelings. She could not believe he felt no affection for her at all; if not for schemes and manipulations, they should have been a good match.

“Jiang Li...” Jiang Youyao looked at the letter before her. Jiang Yuer and Jiang Li had never gotten along, and Jiang Youyao had always stood by Jiang Yuer’s side. Why, after marrying into the Zhou family, did Jiang Yuer invite Jiang Li to a gathering? Jiang Youyao herself was responsible for the scar on Jiang Yuer’s forehead, and the two sisters never pretended to be friendly. Yet Jiang Yuer refused even to meet her own elder sister Jiang Yuyan, choosing only to invite Jiang Li. This was curious indeed.

At the palace banquet, Ji Shuran had said she originally intended to scheme against Jiang Li and Ye Shijie, but somehow, it was Zhou Yanbang and Jiang Yuer who suffered. It must have been Jiang Li’s doing, and Jiang Li and Jiang Yuer must have made some kind of agreement. This would explain why Jiang Yuer acted so brazenly. Now, this letter seemed to fully confirm Ji Shuran’s suspicions.

Only if Jiang Li and Jiang Yuer shared a private alliance could things have come to this pass.

Jiang Youyao did not tell Ji Shuran about the letter. She kept it and planned to reply in Jiang Li’s name, proposing a new time and place to see what scheme Jiang Yuer and Jiang Li were plotting.

She was determined to expose them.

...

That night passed with quiet speculation in several courtyards of the Jiang residence. When Jiang Li woke, a rare winter sun shone over Yanjing.

Snow still blanketed the courtyard, the sunlight casting a faint warm glow upon it, warming the heart. Jiang Li planned, as usual, to have breakfast and then visit Xue Huaiyuan. Emperor Hongxiao had said to gather the finest doctors from all over the land to treat Xue Huaiyuan, hoping to awaken his consciousness.

These days, doctors had come and gone from the Ye residence in endless succession, including imperial physicians sent personally by Emperor Hongxiao. Yet after examining Xue Huaiyuan, each shook their heads, declaring him beyond cure.

Initially, Jiang Li was disappointed, but Ye Mingyu comforted her, saying that it was still a blessing that Xue Huaiyuan was alive. As long as he lived, there was hope. Moreover, it was better that he did not recall the horrors endured in prison or the tragic deaths of his children. Perhaps his life might be a little happier this way. When he regained his senses and accepted the cruel fate, he would realize how precious those forgetful days were.

Hearing this, Jiang Li’s feelings were mixed. On one hand, she wanted her father to recover so they could reunite in this lifetime. On the other, she felt it would be too cruel to force him to remember those injustices. She could not bear to treat a poor old man so harshly.

Regardless, she would continue visiting Xue Huaiyuan daily.

Jiang Yuanbo watched her coldly. Jiang Li knew her actions displeased him, but she no longer cared. She could not abandon her own father.

On the way to the Ye residence, in the corridor, Jiang Li encountered a woman she did not know.

The woman was no longer young, and though her features still hinted at her former beauty, her attire was simple—not that of a servant, yet not luxurious. She had only one maid at her side. Her expression was utterly calm, as still and silent as a pool of water undisturbed for years—devoid of all color or life.

Their paths crossed in the corridor. The woman’s maid greeted Jiang Li with “Second Miss,” prompting the woman to slowly look up and softly say, “Second Miss.”

Jiang Li stared at her. Her expression remained unchanged, as if she had lived a thousand years without sorrow or joy, with no lingering attachments left in the world.

Jiang Li said, “Aunt Hu.”

Aunt Hu was the sole concubine of the Jiang family’s main branch. Although the Jiang family was large and prosperous and the internal relations were not as harmonious as they appeared, Jiang Li felt there was one positive: the sons of the Jiang family—Jiang Yuanbo, Jiang Yuanping, and the illegitimate Jiang Yuanxing—were all born to the main wife. Even the concubines bore no sons. It was said that the eldest master favored a concubine who bore Jiang Yuanxing and caused much trouble. The matriarch detested this concubine and disliked Jiang Yuanxing. Moreover, the family’s strict house rules forbade sons from allowing concubines to bear children.

Aunt Hu was the only concubine in the entire Jiang household to have borne a child.

Originally, Aunt Hu was the matriarch’s maid. After the matriarch mended Jiang Yuanbo’s face, the concubine Ye Zhenzhen was married in but bore no children for three years, while the maid conceived first. The matriarch wanted to give the maid medicine to terminate the pregnancy, but Ye Zhenzhen had a soft heart and pleaded for the child to be allowed to live.

The child was a daughter—the eldest Miss Jiang. Soon after, Jiang Li was born. The maid then became a concubine. It was said Aunt Hu was gentle and kind, getting along well with Ye Zhenzhen. After Ye Zhenzhen died shortly after Jiang Li’s birth, Aunt Hu was deeply saddened.

Later, when Ji Shuran entered the household and Jiang Li was two years old, the eldest Miss Jiang fell from the rockery in the garden and died. Aunt Hu grieved day and night, nearly suffering a hysteria, spending her days hugging pillows and singing lullabies in the courtyard, rarely appearing in public. The matriarch, grateful for years of service, continued to have maids attend to her. The Jiang family was wealthy enough that this was a minor expense, like adding an extra pair of chopsticks at the table, harmless enough.

Aunt Hu lowered her head gently, looking at Jiang Li.

A flicker of doubt crossed Jiang Li’s mind. Everyone said Aunt Hu suffered slight hysteria, and she had only seen her once at a family banquet from a distance. But now, up close, Aunt Hu’s expression was calm, her eyes clear—not the cloudy gaze of madness. Unlike Xue Huaiyuan, she was lucid though drifting. Jiang Li wondered why.

“Today the sun is bright,” Jiang Li said. “Your courtyard is close by. Aunt Hu, may I visit you? You would not refuse, would you?”

Everyone froze.

Baixue and Tong’er were puzzled. Jiang Li had no dealings with Aunt Hu, who was like a ghost in the mansion. Why suddenly befriend her?

Even Aunt Hu’s maid was surprised. They were used to solitary lives, barely remembered by anyone except the matriarch. Perhaps even Jiang Yuanbo had forgotten Aunt Hu’s existence. Yet Jiang Li’s warm smile was hard to refuse.

After a moment, Aunt Hu softly said, “Alright.”

Aunt Hu’s courtyard was even more remote than Jiang Li’s own “Fangfei Garden.” After certain events, Ji Shuran dared not mistreat the Fangfei Garden openly. But Aunt Hu’s residence looked more fit for a servant than a concubine. Or rather, the personal maids of Ji Shuran and Jiang Youyao enjoyed better quarters. The courtyard was small and bleak, with no decorations. Inside, a bed, a table, a few chairs—nothing more.

Aunt Hu’s maid poured tea for Jiang Li. There were only two teacups, and the teapot was chipped. There were no pastries on the table.

The maid looked embarrassed. Aunt Hu, however, appeared indifferent, as if this were no inconvenience. Her features were serene, like a nun from Qingcheng Mountain’s convent—detached, craving nothing, as if ready to drift away with the wind.

“Aunt Hu, it’s quite cold here in winter,” Jiang Li remarked. “Why not light a brazier?”

The maid suddenly found someone willing to speak up for them and almost cried. “The kitchen’s charcoal is all damp. Even if dried and burned inside, it’s the lowest quality and makes us cough. If Second Miss pities Aunt Hu, please speak to the kitchen. Aunt Hu has suffered frostbite several times this winter; her knees are old wounds.”

Jiang Li asked, “Why not ask Mother? She holds the power in this house. Such a small matter, she would settle it for you.”

The maid fell silent. Aunt Hu said softly, “It’s nothing. I’m used to it. I’m not cold.”

Her voice was so faint it was almost inaudible. Jiang Li observed her carefully. This woman was no hysteric; she made no effort to conceal her lucidity before Jiang Li. She was hiding from someone else, confessing to Jiang Li.

But why?

Jiang Li smiled. “I heard that when Mother first gave birth to me, Aunt Hu often held me. Though much has faded from my memory, seeing you feels unfamiliar yet strangely warm.”

Of course, this was a fabrication. Jiang Li was not truly the second Miss. Even if she were, she would have no memory of those times, being so young.

Yet the words seemed to awaken distant memories in Aunt Hu. Her gaze turned distant as she slowly said, “Yes, back then...”

But she stopped there.

Jiang Li pressed on. “What exactly happened when the eldest Miss fell from the rockery?”

Suddenly, the room fell silent.

Baixue and Tong’er were stunned. Though Aunt Hu seemed kind now, speaking of past sorrows in front of a mother could trigger hysteria. What if Aunt Hu broke down?

Aunt Hu’s maid trembled as though receiving dreadful news.

Aunt Hu looked at Jiang Li sharply, as if something flickered past. “What do you mean?”

“I’m just asking if there’s more to the eldest Miss’s death. Was she harmed by someone?”

Jiang Li spoke boldly and without hesitation, dealing blow after blow. The maids did not know how to react. But Jiang Li remained calm, as if asking a simple question.

Aunt Hu’s composure shattered.

She said, “Second Miss, be careful. If there are secrets, they cannot be spoken of in this house.”

“So that’s why you feign hysteria, pretending ignorance, deaf and dumb, to survive. Yet you suffer daily torment, unable to move past your daughter's death,” Jiang Li said, glancing at the items on the table.

The eldest Miss Jiang had died young and was not admitted to the Jiang ancestral hall. Aunt Hu placed her spirit tablet in her room, worshipping it daily. The room always smelled of incense. On the table lay children’s toys, a rattle among them—proof Aunt Hu still could not let go.

After all these years, she should have moved on. Yet she clung to grief and resentment, unable to find peace. Perhaps because her daughter’s death was unjust, she bore silent fury and hatred, enduring life with quiet strength.

But never forgetting even a moment.

Jiang Li spoke gently. “If the eldest Miss were alive, she would be of marrying age this year. Older than me, she must have been very beautiful.”

Aunt Hu closed her eyes briefly. Jiang Li saw her hand on the table slowly clench and then relax. She looked at Jiang Li and said, “Second Miss, I know nothing.”

Jiang Li studied her quietly before saying, “Is that so? What a pity.” She stood, brushing her clothes casually. “I thought if there were secrets, perhaps I could help. Not for your sake, but for the eldest Miss.”

Aunt Hu moved her lips but said nothing. Jiang Li called to Tong’er and Baixue to leave.

As they walked away, Jiang Li said, “I have other matters today, so I won’t stay long. Your place is too cold without a fire. If you have anything to tell me, come to Fangfei Garden. There’s plenty of firewood there; it won’t be cold. After all... my mother and you were once close.”

With that, she left without looking back.

Aunt Hu did not watch her go, staring instead at the rough, poor-quality tea in her cup—carefully saved for guests who rarely came. The dampness of the house had spoiled it.

The maid said softly, “Aunt Hu...”

Aunt Hu sighed lightly. “Second Miss has grown up.”

The maid said nothing.

“If my daughter were still alive...” she murmured, “she would have grown up too.”

“Aunt Hu, what shall we do now?” the maid whispered. “Second Miss’s visit will surely be noticed by the lady of the house.”

“There is no peace between Second Miss and the lady,” Aunt Hu said calmly, lowering her eyes. “Now is the time.”

---

After leaving Aunt Hu’s courtyard, Baixue and Tong’er seemed to regain their senses.

“I didn’t expect Aunt Hu to appear normal, without any hysteria,” Tong’er said. “I heard she didn’t recognize anyone anymore, but today she was perfectly lucid.”

“I find it strange,” Baixue interjected. “Aunt Hu in our minds doesn’t match the Aunt Hu others describe.”

“What’s different?” Jiang Li smiled.

“I can’t say exactly, but the Aunt Hu others talk about isn’t the same as this one,” Baixue whispered to Jiang Li. “You mentioned something about secrets surrounding the eldest Miss’s death. Could she have been harmed?”

Tong’er looked nervously at Jiang Li.

Such matters were whispered about in noble households, but the Jiang family was relatively simple. No one had seriously considered it until now. Yet Jiang Li’s words to Aunt Hu hinted at something chilling.

“It’s not certain,” Jiang Li said. “Don’t spread rumors. We’ll watch and see.”

Baixue and Tong’er quickly fell silent.

Jiang Li had a rough idea. Since Aunt Hu did not deny it, the eldest Miss’s death was probably not an accident. Aunt Hu’s warning suggested she feared certain people.

The Jiang family’s third branch was illegitimate and could be ignored for now. The second branch had no reason to target a concubine of the main branch. Only the main branch remained… and the eldest Miss died after Ji Shuran entered the household. Given Jiang Li’s understanding of Ji Shuran, she would not be surprised if Ji Shuran was involved.

If Ji Shuran truly had a hand in the eldest Miss’s death, Jiang Li would regard Aunt Hu with new respect. To endure such mortal hatred without siding with Ji Shuran, living in hardship, was not mere survival but waiting for the right moment. Once opportunity arose, she would strike back—just as Jiang Li intended.

For now, she only needed to uncover the truth.

---

After leaving the Jiang residence, Jiang Li continued to visit the Ye household to see Xue Huaiyuan. But distracted by thoughts of Aunt Hu, she was somewhat absent-minded during her visit.

Ye Shijie noticed and assumed Jiang Li was worried about the Yongning Princess’s involvement in the Xue family case, anxious about offending Prince Cheng. He said, “Prince Cheng is busy with his own affairs. The Emperor wants to curtail Prince Cheng’s power, so Prince Cheng pays little attention to the Xue case. You need not worry. I, along with Third Uncle, will take care of Lord Xue. But be cautious—Princess Yongning is said to act without restraint. These days, take guards when you go out. If possible, avoid frequent trips to the Ye residence.”

Jiang Li looked at Ye Shijie thoughtfully. She recalled their first meeting, when he had been hostile toward her; now he genuinely cared. Fate between people is indeed strange. She smiled. “I am fine. After all, the Jiang family is behind me. But you… since you are tied to me, if Yongning or Prince Cheng want to target me, they might take it out on you instead. Your path in officialdom will be tougher. Be careful. If possible, set aside your principles for now. If it conflicts too much, seek my father’s help. He values interests above all. As a minor official at the Ministry of Revenue, if you rise and it benefits him, he will support you.”

Ye Shijie found it odd that Jiang Li spoke of Jiang Yuanbo as if he were a stranger, not his own father. Still, he admitted she was right. Though younger, Jiang Li often seemed more worldly-wise than himself.

He said no more. Jiang Li glanced one last time at Xue Huaiyuan, chatted briefly with Ye Mingyu, then returned to the Jiang residence.

No one could predict what Princess Yongning might do, so cautiousness was paramount. Apart from the Ye household, Jiang Li avoided other places to prevent surprises.

That night, back at the Jiang residence, Jiang Li stood by the window and blew the whistle painted with peonies once again.

This time, Zhao Ke appeared swiftly. Though he tried to remain calm, Jiang Li could see the helplessness in his expression.

“Second Miss Jiang, what are your orders?” Zhao Ke asked.

Jiang Li said, “Zhao Ke, you came to the Jiang family seven years ago, after I had already left for Qingcheng Mountain. Though you were not at the Jiang household before, your master should have instructed you to investigate past events here.”

Zhao Ke looked puzzled. “I do not understand.”

“I think you might know some secrets of the Jiang household—things others don’t, things I don’t know. Since you know, why not share them with me?”

Her casual words struck Zhao Ke dumb for a moment. His face paled, a look of unspeakable conflict crossing him.

“I am not one to pry into others’ secrets,” he said.

He was no gossiping servant who loved family scandals. Jiang Li’s tone treated him like a mere maid and said so with such assurance.

“Small matters do not concern you,” Jiang Li said. “But matters of life and death—you must know some things. The Jiang family’s eldest Miss, my father’s first illegitimate daughter, fell from the rockery in the garden years ago and died. Today, I heard rumors that her death was not entirely accidental. Zhao Ke, do you know any hidden truths?”

…

In the Duke’s mansion, the study remained brightly lit.

Guard Wen Ji stood before the man in the study and said, “Second Miss Jiang blew her whistle again tonight.”

The young man in red sat at the desk, his robe flowing softly to the floor, thick carpets warming the winter room. His splendid attire made the carpet gleam like jewels.

“Oh?” Ji Heng asked. “For what?”

“Investigating the cause of the eldest Miss Jiang’s death years ago.”

Lu Ji, drinking tea nearby, nearly spit it out. “Second Miss Jiang actually asked Zhao Ke about that?”

Zhao Ke—renowned as one of the best warriors in the Duke’s household—being treated like a gossip’s spy and used so casually?

Ji Heng said she blew her whistle for important matters, but Jiang Li blew it so often, this hardly seemed urgent.

“She is quite blunt,” Ji Heng chuckled, unoffended. “She truly doesn’t see herself as an outsider.”