Chapter 10: Page Boy

Emperor Tai'an had few heirs; only two princes survived to adulthood: the Crown Prince and the Fourth Prince, the Prince of Wei.

The Crown Prince was born to the late Empress, and his status as the legitimate eldest son made his position as heir to the throne unshakeable.

Although the Prince of Wei’s biological mother now held the high rank of Consort, she had started as a palace maid, and her current status was merely a result of her son’s favor. As for the Prince of Wei himself, he was far less favored by Emperor Tai'an than the Crown Prince.

Wen Hao recovered from her extreme shock, yet she did not feel surprised.

No matter how much her father disliked her, she was still his daughter. For a dignified Vice Minister to secretly hand his daughter over for someone else’s amusement, the other party’s status had to be unimaginably noble.

With her maternal grandparents deceased and her mother insane, she was also a mute. It was difficult enough to marry her into a family of equal standing, let alone one two tiers below the Wen family. Marrying her off to someone even lower would offer no benefit to a father who never considered his daughter’s lifelong happiness; it was better to simply keep her at home, where she would only cost a bit of food.

In such a state, she was merely a lonely soul in the Wen manor that no one cared about. If she could catch the Crown Prince’s eye and earn her father the favor of the heir apparent, how could her father not be tempted?

After all, he was a man who could calmly drive his wife of over twenty years to her death.

The Crown Prince... one of her enemies, and the Crown Prince at that.

Not a Crown Prince whose position was precarious, but the man everyone viewed as the undisputed next emperor.

This was truly a mountain difficult to move.

Wen Hao lowered her eyes, staring at her slender hands.

"A-Hao, are you not feeling well?" Madam Lin asked with concern, observing her daughter’s somewhat pale complexion.

Wen Hao curled her lips: "I am fine. Mother, have you finished choosing?"

Madam Lin gestured to the dazzling array of jewelry on the table: "Pack them all up."

The proprietress beamed: "I shall pack them up right away and have them delivered to your manor."

"There isn't much; I will just take them with me."

The proprietress deftly packed the jewelry and personally carried the boxes to the carriage for Madam Lin.

"Madam Lin, I will send the new styles to your manor for you to choose from once they arrive."

"No need, it is more fun to come out and browse."

Madam Lin boarded the carriage and handed one of the pear-wood boxes to Wen Hao: "A-Hao, see if you like this."

Wen Hao took it and opened it, nearly dazzled by the shimmering jewelry filling the box.

Thinking of the hardships she endured while fleeing in her past life, her eyes stung.

Forget a box of exquisite jewelry; she would have been happy with a box of plain silver ingots.

"I like it very much," Wen Hao nodded earnestly.

"Mother’s taste is still quite good." Madam Lin’s lips curved upward as she patted another box of similar size, "This one is for your eldest sister."

She was clearly in a very good mood, and the reason for her happiness was simple: her daughter liked the things she had bought for her.

It was this very mother—a woman without guile who loved her husband with all her heart—who had been so calculated against and trampled upon by him.

Wen Hao took Madam Lin’s arm and leaned her head on her shoulder: "Mother, Eldest Sister will surely like it too."

Madam Lin pursed her lips and smiled, feeling content: "I thank the heavens that my A-Hao can speak again. Even if I were to lose ten years of my life—"

Wen Hao quickly stopped her: "Mother, you must not say such things. If that were the case, I would rather remain a mute."

"Silly girl..." Madam Lin choked up, wiping the corner of her eye.

Upon entering the Wen manor, Wen Hao hugged the box and said, "Mother, I am going back to Luoying Residence first."

"Go and rest. Let Baozhu carry the jewelry box; it is quite heavy."

"No need, since you gave it to me, I want to carry it myself."

Wen Hao bid farewell to Madam Lin and walked toward Luoying Residence at a leisurely pace. She had only taken a few steps when she ran into the steward, Wen Ping.

Wen Ping was walking in a hurry; whether he was too anxious or otherwise, he nearly collided with Wen Hao.

Wen Hao loosened her grip, and the box fell to the ground.

The box, already packed to the brim, hit the ground, and the jewelry spilled out, sparkling brilliantly in the sunlight.

Wen Ping stared at the gold scattered on the ground, his eyes fixed.

Baozhu glared and scolded: "Does Steward Wen not have eyes? Can you afford the consequences of bumping into the Young Lady?"

Wen Ping snapped back to reality with a start and bowed to apologize to Wen Hao: "It is this old servant who lacked eyes. I beg the Second Young Lady’s forgiveness."

Wen Hao ignored the jewelry scattered all over the ground, her gaze landing coldly on Wen Ping: "Steward Wen, do you have urgent business?"

"There is... a matter to attend to..." Wen Ping kept his head down, his gaze involuntarily drawn to the jewelry on the ground.

"Then Steward Wen, please go about your business." Wen Hao’s tone was calm, revealing neither anger nor joy.

"The Second Young Lady is magnanimous. Thank you for not blaming me." Wen Ping bowed deeply.

Wen Hao stared at Wen Ping’s retreating back, her gaze growing colder.

Wen Ping was the page boy who had given false testimony for her father!

Twenty years had passed in a flash; the little page boy had become a head steward and a person of status in the Wen manor.

He was in such a hurry today; he must be heading to the gambling den.

Baozhu picked up the jewelry and breathed a sigh of relief: "Young Lady, it is fortunate that nothing was broken."

Wen Hao nodded slightly: "That is good. Let us return to Luoying Residence."

She had dropped the box on purpose to provoke Wen Ping. Judging by his reaction, the effect was quite good.

Back at Luoying Residence, Wen Hao did not rest for a moment. She changed her clothes and left the house again with Baozhu.

The mistress and servant did not use the Wen manor’s carriage but hired one instead.

"To Qianjin Gambling House."

Qianjin Gambling House was one of the largest in the capital, with a constant stream of gamblers every day; it was also the easiest place for trouble to arise.

At that moment, a young man was being cornered against a wall outside the entrance by several men, weeping and begging for mercy.

People entering and leaving the gambling house did not even glance in that direction, clearly accustomed to such scenes.

"Young Master Yun, shall we chop off your left pinky, or your right?"

The youth looked terrified, tears and snot streaming down his face: "Don't... don't chop my finger. My father is bringing money soon..."

"Then why isn't he here yet?"

"Soon, soon..."

"The last time your father came to pay, he said he wouldn't care about you anymore."

"My father will definitely care! I am his only son, you must believe me—" the youth cried out.

Someone whispered into the leader’s ear. The leader glanced in a certain direction and sneered: "Chop off his finger!"

The men who received the order grabbed the youth’s left hand, pressed it against the wall, and raised a kitchen knife.

"Stop!" Wen Ping shouted from afar, sprinting toward them.

"Oh, Master Wen has arrived just in time. Your son’s pinky is still attached."

"Father, Father, save me!"

"You... you are simply lawless!" Wen Ping trembled all over, both angry at his son’s worthlessness and furious at the ruffians' actions.

"Master Wen, that is not right. Debts must be repaid; it is only natural. If you don't believe me, let us go to the magistrate and ask."

Wen Ping’s face turned ashen with rage, but he knew he could not get away without paying today.

Although he was a steward of a Vice Minister’s manor, those who could run a gambling den in the capital and remain standing were not simple people. If this were to blow up, his master would surely blame him.

"How much?"

The man held up one finger.

"One hundred taels?" Wen Ping’s heart ached with a jolt, and he reached for his money.

Once, one hundred taels would not have been a large sum for him, but with a son like this, his savings had been hollowed out. Now, let alone one hundred taels, even producing one tael of silver was difficult.

The man sneered: "Master Wen, you must be joking. One thousand taels. If you are short by even one tael, your son’s finger stays."