Chapter 62: The Heart Holds a Sharp Edge

Rongqing Hall.

Jia Mu lay reclining on her bed, her expression somewhat listless; after all, she was old, and could not withstand anger.

Baoyu, Daiyu, Tan Chun, and the other sisters sat nearby, having been unsettled by seeing Jia Mu faint in the Eastern Courtyard, and wished to keep her company with conversation to ease her spirits.

Not long after, Wang Xifeng entered Rongqing Hall; after Jia Mu left the Eastern Courtyard, she had ordered her to oversee the matter’s conclusion.

A scandal involving witchcraft and harm to household members must be properly settled, or it would bring lasting damage to the family’s reputation.

The Eastern Courtyard had just been visited by officials from Zhen’an Prefecture; Jia Mu did not dare linger long, leaving the matter to the male members of the household, yet she remained deeply uneasy.

Seeing Xifeng enter, she asked: “Has the matter in the Eastern Courtyard been settled? Has that wicked woman been punished by household law and taken away by the officials?”

Wang Xifeng said: “Originally, Second Master had ordered fifty strokes, but the officials from Zhen’an Prefecture feared Wang Shanbao’s wife could not survive fifty strokes and would die, leaving them unable to answer to their superiors.”

Later, Cong brother suggested breaking both her legs—she would live, yet household law would still be strictly enforced.”

She suddenly remembered the new poem she had seen on Jia Cong’s desk.

Too bad I am only a daughter; otherwise, I too could learn from Third Brother Cong—clear in enmity and affection, bold and unrestrained, and truly live this life without waste.

“She is a household slave of the Jia family, using witchcraft to secretly harm her masters; even if I had her beaten to death, what would it matter? I would merely compensate with grain and silver.”

Baoyu and the other sisters were startled by Jia Cong’s conduct; they had been born into silk and jade, living within the flower-decked gardens of the household.

But Jia Cong had grown up in hardship and danger since childhood; his temperament and behavior were truly unlike theirs.

If Zhen’an Prefecture raises objections, I can simply dress in full ceremonial attire and go to the palace to beg the Empress Dowager’s forgiveness—I will sacrifice my old face, but nothing serious will come of it.

The hawk, hungry, will serve; the horse, cold, grows prouder still.

Wang Xifeng asked: “Grandmother, is something amiss?”

Daiyu, upon hearing that Jia Cong had ordered Wang Shanbao’s wife’s legs broken, felt fear stir within her.

Banners trail through forest thickets, flutes carry winds of storm.

Yet only days have passed—he escaped the Eastern Courtyard, and the woman who drove his maid to drown herself now suffers this fate; to say this is mere coincidence, Daiyu found hard to believe.

The plains are swept clean, the thorns burn fiercely.

She thought of how Third Brother Cong had once been confined to the Eastern Courtyard, raised under harsh conditions; in just this time, how many incidents had occurred—even nearly beaten to death by his eldest uncle.

Yingchun did not think so deeply; her nature was dull and simple. As long as Cong brother was not beaten or wronged, whatever else he did mattered little to her.

Tanchun, though somewhat frightened, her eyes gleamed brightly; she knew Jia Cong’s actions were to avenge Zhi Shao. A man who acts with such loyalty and righteous fury is worthy of admiration.

The Jia family had long been calm and peaceful; these young men and women of the inner chambers had never experienced such shocking events.

The frost of Liding solidifies the killing air, clear frost meets the morning dawn.

Only after watching Wang Shanbao’s wife have her legs broken and dragged away by officials did he return to his own courtyard as if nothing had happened—the maids and old women of the Eastern Courtyard were all terrified by him.”

How had I never seen it before? He is so cruel! Wang Shanbao’s wife cursed him, begged him—yet he didn’t even blink.

Jia Mu snorted coldly: “How could Zheng have listened to that boy? That wicked woman should have been beaten to death with fifty strokes!”

No wonder that poem carried a chilling, ruthless, and deadly air—could Third Brother Cong have foreseen today’s events?

You all saw how that wicked woman wildly implicated others in court; she still had some restraint within the household.

But in Zhen’an Prefecture, to save her own life, what restraint would she have? She would say anything, stir up trouble, and then it may become impossible to contain.”

Though clever, those like Daiyu and Tanchun were still unmarried girls, their experience limited; they could not match Jia Mu’s depth of calculation.

Hearing Jia Mu’s words, they were shaken but did not grasp why it would be hard to contain.

Jia Mu looked at the group of grandchildren beside her; some things were better not spoken before the younger generation, so she dismissed them, leaving only Lady Wang and Wang Xifeng in Rongqing Hall.

Wang Xifeng, though a woman among powder and rouge, was no novice like Daiyu or Tanchun; having managed Rongguo Mansion for years, she had broadened her horizons, and at once understood Jia Mu’s meaning.

Today, the officials from Zhen’an Prefecture came with firm accusations, seizing paper effigies and yellow talismans of witchcraft from Wang Shanbao’s wife’s room—on the surface, the evidence was undeniable.

But Jia Mu, Lady Wang, and Wang Xifeng were all seasoned, worldly-wise; all harbored doubts about this matter.

Why would a servant of the main house dare so boldly harm the second house’s master and mistress?

It made no sense—it was unthinkable.

Unless she was acting on someone’s orders—Wang Shanbao’s wife was Lady Xing’s trusted attendant, and everyone in the Jia household knew Lady Xing had long resented the second house.

She was the most likely to have ordered this heinous act, aiming solely to reclaim control of the household from the second house.

Yet even if true, Jia Mu did not wish to expose it.

For if it became known that the main house had ordered a slave to use witchcraft to harm the second house, the Clan Office would inevitably intervene.

The newly appointed Grand Director of the Clan Office, Prince Zhongshun, is the Emperor’s most trusted and favored brother—a man of grave demeanor who has always held little regard for the old noble houses like the Four Princes and Eight Dukes.

Once the Clan Office intervenes, with undeniable evidence, the husband and wife are one; Jia She’s crime of harming his own brother cannot be escaped.

Loss of title and office is certain; he may even be exiled three thousand li, never pardoned, dying a stranger in a foreign land.

If the Jia family loses the dukedom left by their ancestor, even a hundred deaths could not atone—but a noble house stripped of its title is no longer noble; the Jia family is finished.

Hence, Jia Mu, who had always been known for her leniency toward servants, had wished Jia Cong had simply beaten Wang Shanbao’s wife to death.

Killing to silence is the most effective method!

Wang Xifeng suddenly felt a jolt in her heart and said: “Third Brother Cong is capable—he is no fool.”

Seeing his conduct today, I thought he merely sought to punish Wang Shanbao’s wife and avenge his drowned maid.

Could it be that he harbors resentment toward Elder Master and Lady Wang, and deliberately left Wang Shanbao’s wife alive?”

Lady Wang turned pale: “Surely not so terrifying—he is so young, how could he have such deep schemes?”

Jia Mu’s expression shifted uncertainly: “If it were another grandchild, it might be fine—but this wretched boy, watching his actions these days, I truly cannot fathom what he is thinking.”

Jia Mu recalled the main hall of the Eastern Courtyard that day, before the Zhen’an Prefecture judge and all the senior Jia elders.

That boy spoke calmly, completely controlling the scene; with just a few words, he reduced Wang Shanbao’s wife to a living death.

Thinking of that scene, Jia Mu felt a faint chill.

She said: “If only I had brought him over early, like Second Girl and Fourth Girl, he might not have grown into such a cold and unpredictable nature.”

…

Qingzhi Studio.

Jia Cong stood in the small courtyard, gazing silently at the deep blue, clear night sky.

Wu’er, graceful in form, stepped to Jia Cong’s side and draped a cloak over him: “Third Master, it’s cold at night—don’t catch a chill.”

Jia Cong said gently: “I’ll go in soon. Your body is weak—go inside, don’t catch cold yourself.”

I hope Wang Shanbao’s wife, once in Zhen’an Prefecture, will sing a good show to save her own life.

That day, when Aunt Zhao told him Wang Shanbao’s wife had summoned Ma Daopo to exorcise spirits, he began laying his plans; in his past life, he had read Dream of the Red Chamber closely and knew the entanglement between Pan Sanbao and Ma Daopo.

A single test revealed it was all true.

He had asked Qu Hongxiu to help trap Wang Shanbao’s wife—not only to make her pay for Zhi Shao’s life, but also to strike at the two in the Eastern Courtyard with one blow.

Wang Shanbao’s wife was Lady Xing’s attendant; if she used witchcraft to harm Jia Zheng and Lady Wang, everyone would suspect Lady Xing ordered it.

If this scandal spread, it would nearly doom Jia She and Lady Xing.

But Jia Mu and Lady Wang, as seasoned matriarchs of great clans, were no fools; they might well see the crucial point.

Yet they would never dream that all this was Jia Cong’s design.

But with the Jia family’s deep roots—two dukedoms in one household—Jia Mu would spare no effort to protect Jia She, so the Jia family could remain stable.

But to Jia Cong, this was no longer important; he never thought one act could topple the heir of Rongguo Mansion.

Through this affair, he had not only removed Wang Shanbao’s wife and avenged Zhi Shao, but also severely crushed the two in the Eastern Courtyard.

In the future, Jia She and Lady Xing’s status in the Jia household would decline further, leaving them with neither the strength nor the will to scheme against or abuse him.

He had, at last, largely escaped his former predicament, gaining more stable time and space to pursue what he wished to do.

(End of Chapter)