Chapter 12: Can't Stand It Even a Little Bit

“What are you saying, Marquis? You make it sound as if this servant wouldn't be able to return.” Chunrong’s face showed confusion as she furrowed her brows, saying intentionally, “I am the Madam's dowry maid. The Marquis used an eight-bearer sedan chair to personally welcome the Madam into the household; even if the Madam had not given orders, I would still be able to enter the gates of this Marquis Mansion.”

The words "eight-bearer sedan chair" clearly struck a nerve in Wu Que.

It served as a blunt reminder that a green light was currently sprouting atop his head.

The thought that Xie Jiu was currently in the palace, gracefully pleasing Zhao Xingjin in his bed—certainly with every manner of softness and charm, unlike her usual cold and distant self before him—caused a surge of humiliation to well up in Wu Que's heart. Accompanied by a burning resentment, his eyes seemed ready to spit fire.

Even though what he had originally hoped for was for Xie Jiu to serve Zhao Xingjin.

But in his view, while he could administer Hehuan Powder to Xie Jiu and send her into the palace to offer her charms and pleasure, Xie Jiu could not go there of her own volition behind his back.

In Wu Que's heart, this was betrayal, a defiance of his marital authority, and a total loss of face.

This humiliation caused him to lose all reason for a moment, and he couldn't help but burst into curses.

“Wretched wench! Do not speak of marriage rites! The Xie woman lacks womanly virtue; she is lewd, shameless, and unfaithful, committing all sorts of acts that violate feminine morality. She deserves to be skinned, her tendons pulled, and thrown into a river to drown!”

“As for the Xie woman—why does she not dare to return and face this Marquis!”

Wu Que’s eyes were nearly bursting, the veins on his temples bulging; his expression was truly hideous.

Chunrong had never seen him in such a state, and her heart skipped a beat, but remembering Xie Jiu's instructions, she quickly regained her composure.

She countered him without the slightest hesitation.

“Marquis, watch your words!”

“The Madam received the Emperor's personal praise for being dignified, wise, learned, and possessing both talent and virtue; it is because of this that she was appointed as the Princess's tutor. Could the Emperor be so lacking in judgment and vision? The Marquis insults the Madam without a shred of evidence—is this merely venting private anger, or is it an act of defiance against the Emperor's words?!”

This heavy accusation was slammed down so suddenly that Wu Que was left choked, unable to find a rebuttal. His face shifted between pale and blue, and he could not make a sound.

Seeing his distorted face, so furious yet unable to argue back, Chunrong felt a surge of satisfaction in her heart.

She then gave a slight bow. “This servant only returned on the Madam's orders to fetch her calligraphy books, and I must return to the palace as soon as possible to report. I shall take my leave.”

At the end, she pointed to the food box on the table. “These pastries are from the small kitchen of Chengming Palace. The Madam thought they tasted quite good and specifically asked me to bring some back for the Marquis to try. If the Madam were to learn of the Marquis's words today, she would surely be heartbroken. It would be best if the Marquis did not speak such nonsense again.”

Having said this, she bypassed Wu Que to leave.

The words "Chengming Palace" acted like a sharp blade, stabbing once more into Wu Que's sore spot.

As his blood boiled, a fierce malice erupted in Wu Que's eyes. He turned and strode quickly toward Chunrong.

“You lowly wench! Since when is it your place to lecture this Marquis? Today, I shall surely tear your skin off!”

“Someone, come and pin this wench down and beat her!”

Consumed by rage, Wu Que only wanted to vent his anger on Chunrong.

He couldn't touch Xie Jiu, but could he not even touch a maid?

However, when the steward and his men rushed forward, Chunrong let out a sharp cry.

“I'd like to see who dares! The Emperor commanded the Madam to instruct the Princess, and the Madam commanded me to return to the manor to fetch calligraphy books. If you dare touch me, you are showing dissatisfaction with the Madam, and dissatisfaction with the Emperor!”

“Don't you dare use a chicken feather as a command baton! Beat her!” Wu Que jumped in rage, shouting incessantly.

Chunrong did not fear him, her willow brows arching upward.

“If I cannot return to the palace in one piece today, and the superiors blame us tomorrow, the Marquis should consider whether he can bear the consequences!”

Wu Que felt a sharp pain in his chest from her retort.

When had he ever been talked back to like this by a maid, especially one who was Xie Jiu's maid!

But Chunrong's words did indeed intimidate him.

It was like a basin of cold water being poured over his head, forcibly driving reason back into his brain.

Indeed, how would he dare offend the palace now?

His teeth ground together and his knuckles turned white from clenching his fists, but he no longer dared to move.

After a long silence, he squeezed out a sentence through his teeth, “Get out, quickly!”

“This servant takes her leave.” Chunrong curled her lips into a smile and bowed, not forgetting to remind him, “Marquis, remember to eat the pastries. They are a token of the Madam's affection. Even in the palace, the Madam is thinking of you.”

Leaving those words behind, Chunrong departed unhurriedly and composedly.

Looking at the pastries on the table, Wu Que felt his breath hitch, nearly fainting.

He clutched his chest to recover, and then, in a fit of rage, he flipped the entire table over, sending everything crashing to the floor in pieces.

Listening to the commotion behind her, Chunrong felt incredibly gratified.

She spurred her horse and immediately rushed back to the palace.

When she returned happily to report, Xie Jiu was still sitting before a chessboard with Zhao Xingjin.

“Oh, you've returned quite safely. You are quite a clever girl,” Zhao Xingjin remarked with a teasing smile as he glanced at Chunrong entering to report.

Chunrong did not dare be careless and performed her salutations properly.

“Rise,” Zhao Xingjin said casually, then asked, “How is the Marquis of Weiyuan faring lately?”

As he asked, Chunrong stole a glance at Xie Jiu. After receiving a nod of approval, she replied respectfully.

“The Marquis must have something weighing on his mind; his temper has become a bit volatile. The pastries the Madam sent back through me, the Marquis did not even taste a single bite.”

“Tsk, unable to swallow food?” Zhao Xingjin teased.

Xie Jiu casually placed a chess piece. “A volatile temper is an excess of liver fire; being unable to swallow food is a disharmony of the spleen and stomach. Taking some pills to clear the heat and aid digestion should suffice.”

At this point, Xie Jiu looked up at Zhao Xingjin, a hint of a smile on her face.

“This concubine ventures to ask: may I request a certain medicinal pill from the Imperial Academy of Medicine from His Majesty? After all, as a wife, it is only right that I look after my husband's health.”

“You are quite virtuous,” Zhao Xingjin teased. “Even while by my side, you are still worrying about another.”

Xie Jiu was not afraid of him, her face carrying a hint of playful mischief. “He did, after all, marry me through the three letters and six rites with an eight-bearer sedan chair. If I did not know, it would be one thing, but now that I do, how could I possibly ignore him?”

As she spoke, her fingers lightly tapped the chessboard, and she pursed her lips as if acting spoiled to earn a reward.

“This concubine has been playing chess with His Majesty for so long; will His Majesty not grant me such a small favor?”

This coquettish manner was perfectly executed, creating a suitable contrast with her usual gentle and dignified demeanor, which Zhao Xingjin found both interesting and pleasing.

The corners of his lips curled slightly, and he gave a grand wave of his hand.

“Yang Zhian, grant it!”

“This concubine thanks His Majesty for his great grace.” Xie Jiu rose, her eyes filled with smiles and her waist swaying softly as she performed a bow.

Thus, half an hour later, within the Marquis of Weiyuan's manor, Wu Que, who had finally managed to calm down, exploded once again.

This time it was a true explosion; before the little eunuch delivering the items could even leave, Wu Que had directly fainted.

His anger had attacked his heart.

But how could anyone dare say so publicly? The steward quickly claimed that Wu Que was already ill and that this was merely physical discomfort from overworking himself for the day, and he hurriedly saw the palace messengers out.

Perhaps the little eunuch was not tight-lipped; before long, news of the Marquis of Weiyuan falling ill spread throughout the capital once more.

Whether it was a real illness or a fake one, everyone knew the truth in their hearts.

They didn't show it on the surface, but behind the scenes, countless people were laughing at the joke.

Lying on his couch, Wu Que looked at the box of heat-clearing pills, and his liver fire burned even more intensely.

He immediately ordered the steward to request several more days of sick leave for him.

Even with his toes, he could imagine how much sarcasm and ridicule he would face if he attended the imperial court at a time like this.

He truly could not stand it anymore.