Chapter 231: The Foolish Delusion of the Clever

Love Shenjing, Ministry of Rites, Jiaofang Si.

From the second-floor pipa chamber in the main hall, a melodious pipa tune drifted out—clear and bright, yet still tinged with youthful awkwardness.

Everyone in the academy knew it was Du Du Qingniang's disciple practicing the pipa.

Inside the inner chamber, a tall, graceful beauty sat with her hair pinned high, unadorned by hairpins or ornaments, clad in a snow-white Daoist robe, her bearing ethereal and radiant.

A young maid in blue attire stepped forward, holding a gray-white bound document, and offered it with both hands, saying:

"Madam, this secret memo was ordered by the Director to gather all details regarding the Zhang Shou'an case. Please review it."

Du Du Qingniang read the memo with great care, and when she reached the final lines—"Public sentiment surges like a tide, spreading wildly; suspicion of orchestrated manipulation exists, yet the truth remains elusive, with no traceable origin"—

she picked up her brush and crossed out those lines, saying: "Zhang Shou'an got what he deserved. We collect only verifiable evidence, never speculative conjecture. The scheming runs deep—let His Majesty decide."

"Rewrite this memo, then submit it to the Director. Burn the original."

Yesterday, dozens of Embroidered Uniform Guard agents stormed the Zhengan Prefectural Office, arresting everyone connected to the Xiu Niang incense shop case—from Prefect Zhang Shou'an down to the constables and jailers—locking them all in the Embroidered Uniform Guard's prison.

Du Du Qingniang lifted her gaze slightly, glancing at the old, tarnished copper hairpin in her hair, and sighed inwardly.

Add to that her striking beauty—since entering Jiaofang Si, she had been coveted by many—and when she learned she was to be sent to the Sixteenth Floor as a courtesan, she had tried to kill herself with that sharp copper pin.

A beautiful young woman in palace attire, cradling a pipa, rose immediately upon Du Du Qingniang's entrance and bowed deeply, her demeanor reverent.

…

Du Du Qingniang smiled: "You've studied the pipa only a few months. Though still awkward, your progress is remarkable."

"You're beautiful, intelligent, and resilient. Born into an official family, literate and cultured—yet they're sending you to the Sixteenth Floor? It's a cruel waste."

As a highly paid guest instructor of the Ministry of Rites, she wielded considerable influence—making such arrangements was no great feat for her, but to Zou Min'er, it was a rebirth.

When Jia Rong heard the news, he lost his composure and hurried home to consult his father.

Ningguo Prefecture, Conglü Tang.

The woman bowed respectfully: "If not for Madam's rescue, I would have been dead long ago. Your grace is beyond repayment—I will devote myself to mastering my art, never disappointing you."

At these words, the woman's face flushed with deep shame, her voice trembling: "If not for Du Qingniang's rescue, Min'er would have been lost forever. In my next life, I will tie grass and carry rings to repay you."

Du Du Qingniang stepped forward, gently tilting the woman's chin, her tone tinged with emotion:

At that moment, the pipa melody in the outer chamber ended. Du Du Qingniang rose and stepped out of the inner room.

In Conglü Tang, besides Jia Zhen, only the steward Lai Er had been involved in the matter, so Jia Rong spoke without restraint.

Du Du Qingniang smiled: "No need to wait for the next life. Stay close to me, and I'll never let you suffer."

"Father, Zhang Shou'an has already been summoned before the Ministry of Justice. To shift blame, he'll surely implicate his son—what do we do?"

Zou Min'er was the daughter of a disgraced official; her father had committed an unforgivable crime. By custom, female relatives were sent to Jiaofang Si, barred from performing arts, forced into menial labor or the Sixteenth Floor as courtesans as punishment.

Du Du Qingniang happened upon her plight, moved by her situation, rescued her, and spent heavily to bribe the academy officials to transfer her to the pipa troupe.

Jia Zhen's face darkened with fury: "You useless lump! I tasked you with something simple, and you failed—worse, you've stirred up trouble!"

Jia Rong grimaced: "Father, don't blame me. Who could have foreseen that Cousin Cong from the Western Mansion would suddenly appear and forcibly demand the woman's release from Zhengan Prefecture?"

It was because the incense shop's shopkeeper escaped—she went to the Ministry of Justice to file a complaint—that the matter exploded."

Father, none of us expected Cousin Cong to be so deeply entangled with the incense shop. I've inquired these past days—rumors say his ties to the shop's proprietor are far from ordinary.

Why else would he defend them so fiercely? The gossip says the shop's owner is a young, stunning beauty. Cousin Cong's obsession with the shop? He's certainly involved with her.

Cousin Cong is lustful—just look at how he brought back a pretty nun last year. He keeps a whole household of beautiful maids—everyone in both mansions knows it. What's strange about him doing this outside?"

The incense shop is surely his private asset, merely registered under his mistress's name."

Jia Zhen's eyes lit up: "If true, he's a Jia family member not yet registered as a separate household—hoarding private property violates clan rules!"

Jia Zhen himself was lecherous and shameless; such illicit affairs were easy for him to believe. He assumed everyone was like him—lust-driven, scheming—so it seemed perfectly natural.

Jia Zhen had always been cruel to his son, routinely beating and humiliating him. Under his father's tyranny, Jia Rong's mind had twisted, and he lived in constant terror of Jia Zhen.

Jia Rong had botched this matter and now feared being dragged into the lawsuit. He dreaded his father's wrath—and with this lead about Jia Cong, he seized it eagerly to deflect blame.

He racked his brain to weave more idle gossip around Jia Cong.

He added: "Father, this is certainly true. Even if we ignore the shop's owner, just look at the shopkeeper—she's over thirty, yet still a stunning, mature beauty.

Who would hire such a beautiful woman as a shopkeeper? It's clearly Cousin Cong's trick—he's hoarding private assets and using them to keep mistresses…"

Lai Er, standing nearby, shifted his gaze and said: "Father, as the eldest son says, the incense shop's owner must be Cousin Cong's concubine.

Then the shop becomes Cousin Cong's private property—equivalent to Jia family assets. Since the eldest son clashed with the shop, it's merely a family matter.

Even if Zhang Shou'an implicates the eldest son in the Ministry of Justice, we can dismiss it as internal family business—governed by clan rules, not state law.

We claim Zhang Shou'an overstepped to curry favor with Ningguo Prefecture. His own fault. Unrelated to Ningguo Jia."

Jia Rong's heart leapt. "Steward Lai's words are wise. This is purely a family matter—no danger remains."

"Father, but we know the truth—the Ministry of Justice doesn't. What if they get Zhang Shou'an's confession and come to arrest me? It would shame Ningguo Prefecture."

Jia Zhen glanced at his son, hearing the fear in his voice. He knew his son's true nature better than anyone—he was a useless coward.

Ever since that damned Chen Xiong ruined his vitality, he's lost even the faintest trace of manhood.

If he's dragged into the Ministry of Justice and threatened even slightly, he'll blab everything—even implicate his own father.

Thinking of this, Jia Zhen glared at his son with disgust: "You useless waste—go hide outside for a few days. Don't let the Ministry find you. Don't ruin my plans!"

"I, the Jia family, are an ancient house with strict morals. Private hoarding by unregistered heirs cannot be tolerated. I'll go speak to the Old Ancestress—settle this family matter firmly—then you may return.

Then neither the Ministry of Justice nor the Clan Office can fault us!"

Jia Zhen had feared a major scandal—but now, fortune had turned: the incense shop was Jia Cong's private asset.

Jia Cong was under twenty, not yet separated from the household—hoarding private property was a grave violation of clan rules, punishable by confiscation into the public treasury.

Though in the end, it would go to Lady Rongguo Prefecture's public funds, not Ningguo's.

But as close kin between the two branches, if he flattered the Old Ancestress just right, securing a share of the profits for Ningguo Prefecture was no problem.

Though not as lucrative as owning it outright—five thousand taels a year—it would still yield ten to twenty thousand taels annually. That would relieve Ningguo Prefecture's financial crisis.

Thinking of this, he felt a surge of triumph.

(End of Chapter)