Chapter 15: A Huge Ruckus
The palm and the back of the hand are both flesh - The Duke of Anguo could punish Yan Jingyu for Yan Jingshu’s sake, but he couldn’t just stand by and watch Yan Jingyu die. Yet Yan Jingshu remained unrelenting, leaving him torn and unsure of what to do. He had originally wanted to vent his frustrations to his mother, but the Dowager Lady’s remark—"he’s been hurt too deeply"—silenced all his grievances.
[手心手背都是肉 (shǒu xīn shǒu bèi dōu shì ròu): lit. The palm and the back of the hand are both flesh; fig. Both are equally dear, like family members one cannot bear to part with]
Indeed, in this matter, the one who had suffered the most was ultimately Yan Jingshu. Compared to him, how could his own distress amount to anything?
Wiping his face, the Duke of Anguo said, “Mother, I know I mishandled Yu’er’s situation, and it’s only right that Shu’er resents me. But marrying him off, that must not happen. Please, talk some sense into Shu’er and make sure he doesn’t act out of anger.”
The Dowager Lady waved her hand dismissively. “Since you know Shu’er holds resentment, then resolve it for him. Regarding marriage, since ancient times, it has been decided by parents' orders and matchmakers' words—it’s not something a child can decide on a whim.”
The Duke of Anguo, blinded by his concern, felt as if a heavy weight had been lifted upon hearing the Dowager Lady’s words. However, he soon frowned again. The Dowager Lady said to resolve Yan Jingshu’s resentment, but his resentment was directed at Yan Jingyu—how was he supposed to resolve that?
The Duke of Anguo wanted to seek further advice, but the Dowager Lady had nothing more to say to him. If it were up to her, she would have thrown Yan Jingyu straight into the ancestral hall. To dare cause trouble on her birthday showed blatant disrespect for her as a grandmother. A white eyed wolf who schemed against her elder brother and defied her elders, her death would only cleanse the Yan family’s reputation.
The Dowager Lady had never been particularly fond of this granddaughter, and now she was utterly disgusted. Merely mentioning her felt like dirtying her mouth—though there was no need for the Duke of Anguo to know that.
After the Duke of Anguo left, An Momo, puzzled, asked the Dowager Lady, “Since you had already agreed to the Second Young Master’s request, why did you just now tell the Duke…”
The Dowager Lady replied, “I did agree, but I couldn’t say it outright. We must take it slow, he must willingly consent to this matter himself. Only then will it be best for Shu’er.”
An Momo thought it over and agreed. If the Dowager Lady had openly sided with Yan Jingshu, the Duke might have suspected that Yan Jingshu was using her to pressure him. That would only breed resentment toward both Yan Jingshu and the Dowager Lady, which would be far from ideal.
The Duke of Anguo had arrived with a troubled heart and left the same way. The entire walk from Rong’an Courtyard to Canglan Courtyard yielded no solution.
“My Lord, what did Mother say?” The moment the Duke stepped inside, Xie Shi saw his expression and knew things hadn’t gone well, but she still had to ask.
“Ah, don’t even mention it.” The Duke had served in court for decades, yet he had never encountered a situation as utterly helpless as this.
Truly, “Even an honest official can’t resolve family disputes”—the ancients spoke truly.
[清官難斷家務事 (qīng guān nán duàn jiā wù shì): lit. Even an honest official can’t resolve family disputes; fig. Family conflicts are too complex for outsiders to judge]
“My Lord, although Yu’er wronged Shu’er in this matter, the way Shu’er is now—swearing not to rest until Yu’er dies, it frightens me. He used to be such a good child, yet now he’s so ruthless. I still can’t quite believe it.” Xie Shi dabbed the corners of her eyes with a handkerchief, feigning sorrow and fear.
The Duke didn’t catch the deeper meaning in Xie Shi’s words and simply nodded in agreement. “Yes, I never expected this either. They were both such good children, who knew one would dare do such a thing, and the other would… sigh… Still, Shu’er’s reaction is understandable. And you, how could you scold him like that?”
The Duke believed that if Xie Shi hadn’t berated Yan Jingshu, he wouldn’t have been so heartbroken as to say such extreme things in despair.
Xie Shi stiffened. She had only meant to plant seeds of doubt about Yan Jingshu, never expecting the Duke to blame her instead. She had no choice but to say, “It was my fault. I was just so frantic at the time. Yu’er was in such a state, yet Shu’er still… Never mind, it’s all my fault. I’ll go apologize to Shu’er right now. If it helps calm his anger, I’ll do anything.”
Her repentance sounded swift and sincere, but as she spoke, she watched the Duke’s expression, expecting him to stop her. After all, she was Yan Jingshu’s mother—since when did a mother apologize to her child?
But the Duke did speak—just not the words she wanted to hear. Instead of stopping her, he agreed without hesitation. “That’s a good idea. Oh, I remember there’s a twin-footed lotus leaf Duan inkstone in the storeroom, crafted by a master of the previous dynasty. Shu’er has always liked such things. Open the storeroom, find it, and bring it to him.”
Of course, he didn’t expect a mere inkstone to change Yan Jingshu’s mind, but if it could bring him even a little joy, it would be worth it.
Seeing that the Duke cared nothing for her dignity and actually expected her to apologize to Yan Jingshu, Xie Shi’s face stiffened again. And this time, it wasn’t just her face—when she heard the Duke mention the twin-footed lotus leaf Duan inkstone, her heart froze for a moment.
She knew this inkstone—it was an extremely rare and precious item, passed down by the previous Duke of Anguo. Even the current Duke had never dared use it, keeping it carefully stored away. In Xie Shi’s eyes, the Duke’s title, the family’s possessions, every blade of grass and every tree belonged to her grandson and daughter. Now, to give such an invaluable treasure to Yan Jingshu? She was unwilling.
But the Duke had spoken, and Xie Shi had no choice but to comply. Still, she consoled herself with the thought that Yan Jingshu, always so aloof and now at odds with them, would surely refuse the inkstone. As for apologizing—since the Duke wouldn’t accompany her, whatever she said (or didn’t say) would go unnoticed. Even if Yan Jingshu denied receiving an apology, it wouldn’t matter. She could even use that as an excuse to make a scene later.
So Xie Shi quickly suppressed her displeasure, retrieved the inkstone, and headed to Mingxuan Courtyard. To her surprise, though Yan Jingshu treated her coldly, he accepted the inkstone without hesitation. She was still in a daze when he politely excused himself, claiming he needed rest, and ushered her out.
What infuriated Xie Shi even more (nearly enough to make her spit blood) was that the Duke, overjoyed that Yan Jingshu had accepted the inkstone, saw it as a breakthrough. He ransacked the family storeroom, sending famous calligraphy scrolls, rare books, master paintings, and antique jade pieces to Yan Jingshu’s courtyard in an endless stream. Xie Shi watched, her heart bleeding with every delivery.
When she heard Xie Shi’s old illness had flared up, leaving her bedridden with chest pains and unable to eat, Yan Jingshu paid only a perfunctory visit before returning to carefully pack away the Duke’s gifts in a large rosewood chest—all to be taken with him when he married.
He had been foolish in the past, dismissing wealth as vulgar. With the estate covering his daily needs and no interest in socializing, he had little use for money. Most of his monthly allowance had been taken by Yan Jingyu, and the rest had been given to servants. After more than a decade, he had no savings at all.
Now that he was determined to marry, he couldn’t claim a share of the family’s assets, and Xie Shi certainly wouldn’t prepare much of a dowry. In his past life, Jiang Chenghan had provided for him despite having nothing, never letting him suffer. But now that he understood Jiang Chenghan’s struggles, he wanted to help—which meant he needed to prepare.
Some might accuse him of taking from his maternal family to support his husband’s household, but Yan Jingshu felt no guilt. He knew these items weren’t for personal luxury.
Those who had never lived on the frontier couldn’t fathom the hardships faced by soldiers and civilians there. The northern border was bitterly cold, plagued by frequent raids from nomadic tribes, with hundreds of battles fought yearly. Yet military provisions and pay were perpetually delayed, often falling short or being substituted with inferior goods.
The north was far from the capital. Even if corruption were reported and investigated, the solution would come too late to help the suffering soldiers. Yan Jingshu had once watched men—unharmed in battle—die in agony from untreated wounds due to lack of medicine.
And Jiang Chenghan, who never flinched before the fiercest enemies had lost sleep over food shortages. Back then, Yan Jingshu had been nothing but a burden, helpless to assist. This time, he refused to be powerless again.
These items might not be much, but in critical moments, they could save lives. He believed his grandmother and father would understand.
Three days passed, and Yan Jingshu’s collection now filled a large rosewood chest. Meanwhile, Yan Jingyu, showing no improvement, remained in Linglong Pavilion instead of the ancestral hall—so Yan Jingshu still refused to relent.
After yet another fruitless visit to Mingxuan Courtyard, the Duke of Anguo was truly at his wits’ end. Just then, the steward, Yan Zhong, rushed in, exclaiming, “My Lord, it’s terrible! The Marquis of Yongchang is here, shouting at our gates! He claims we crippled his son and demands an explanation, or else he’ll report us to the authorities!”
“What? The Marquis of Yongchang?” The Duke frowned, recalling the man, and said sternly, “Explain properly, what exactly happened?”
Yan Zhong replied, “The Marquis says that during the Dowager Lady’s birthday celebrations, he sent his second son, Zhao Xian, to deliver congratulations. But after that, Zhao Xian never returned home. It wasn’t until dusk the next day that the Marquis’ men found him in a secluded alley—beaten unconscious and covered in wounds.
“For the past two days, the Marquis has been searching for the culprit, but found nothing. Then, somehow, he heard rumors that during the banquet, the Second Young Master and Zhao Xian were… caught in a compromising situation, provoking your fury. So he’s convinced you ordered the beating and has come to confront us.”
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