Chapter 716: Serving the Bed, Becoming a Favorite

Lady Rongguo Prefecture, Jia Baoyu's Courtyard.

Jia Baoyu's expression was half-sorrowful, half-furious; he stood by the window, head tilted upward, as if silently questioning heaven, while Qiuyue's face bore a faint trace of melancholy resentment.

A light breeze outside stirred his sleeves, lending him an air of elegant detachment and self-pity, yet he failed to notice the wind had revealed his protruding belly.

Sister Xi Ren and Sheyue, accompanied by young maids, bustled back and forth, cleaning up the chaotic room; it took half an hour to restore it to its former state.

Yet the antique shelves stood half-empty, the delicate ornaments on the desk greatly diminished, leaving the entire room feeling hollow and unsettling.

As Sister Xi Ren straightened the chairs, she said to Sheyue: "That Feng'er isn't an easy one to handle—no telling how she'll spin things to Second Mistress."

I fear she'll stir up trouble, and then Bao Er Ye will be slandered again; if this keeps up, we truly won't be able to stay in the Western Courtyard.

If trouble comes, we must prepare our excuses in advance—we can't let Bao Er Ye lose face again."

At that moment, Qiuyun entered and brought Jia Baoyu hot tea, flatteringly saying: "Bao Er Ye, have some tea—don't anger yourself over such trifles."

She turned to Sister Xi Ren: "Sister, you're one of the top maids in Bao Er Ye's quarters—everyone praises your virtue and wit. Why fear a lowly errand-girl like Feng'er?"

Such an insignificant little maid—how could she possibly control our Bao Er Ye? People will laugh if they hear of it."

Sheyue sneered: "First, mind your own foul mouth. Even if she's just an errand-girl, she's ten times more favored than you."

Ping'er serves Cong Sanye Cong in the Eastern Courtyard—this little maid has grown even more indispensable to Second Mistress. I advise you to keep your mouth shut."

Do you think everyone under Second Mistress's command is as useless as you, only good for gossip? If this reaches her ears, see how she'll deal with you!"

Qiuyun, struck by Sheyue's sharp mockery, felt humiliated before Jia Baoyu; though her face burned red with rage, she could not utter a single word in reply.

Sheyue was famous for her sharp tongue; Qiuyun had always feared her, and in a verbal duel, two of her wouldn't stand a chance against Sheyue.

Sister Xi Ren, hearing Qiuyun's sarcastic remarks, though gentle by nature and cunning in heart, rarely clashed openly with others, now felt deep anger.

Originally, the delayed monthly stipend was meant to be kept quiet—but Qiuyun had blabbed it to Madam Wang, leaving both her and Sheyue embarrassed.

After all this, Sister Xi Ren grew even more disgusted with Qiuyun, and coldly said: "Qiuyun, leave now—let Bao Er Ye have some peace.

If you're uncomfortable staying in this courtyard and can't stand any of us, I'll speak to Madam myself and get you transferred somewhere more to your liking!"

…

Qiuyun's face changed at these words; she hadn't expected the usually gentle Sister Xi Ren to speak so coldly.

Yet she didn't believe Sister Xi Ren was merely threatening her—Sister Xi Ren was now Jia Baoyu's personal maid, officially designated as a future concubine, already half a mistress.

With their statuses now unequal, Qiuyun naturally felt more wary of Sister Xi Ren.

Qiuyun had long harbored ambitions to climb into Jia Baoyu's bed—this desire might fool others, but not Sister Xi Ren or Sheyue, who shared the same courtyard.

Sheyue was one thing—but would Sister Xi Ren willingly welcome another rival for favor?

If Sister Xi Ren were truly determined, and struck before Qiuyun had any official standing, Qiuyun knew she couldn't withstand it.

So when Sister Xi Ren spoke coldly, Qiuyun wisely fell silent, muttered a few curses under her breath, and slunk out of the room.

Jia Baoyu, witnessing this scene, recalled today's humiliations and felt the world was harsh, human relations corrupt, and purity intolerable.

He raised his head and sighed: "Vulgar. All this scheming, this petty scheming—don't you find it tiresome? Where's the grace and spirit of women?"

He shook his head and walked silently into the inner chamber, his expression desolate.

…

Sheyue, hearing Jia Baoyu's words, frowned slightly; she had long grown accustomed to his idle talk and ignored it—but today, it struck her as painfully sharp.

She had been close to Ping'er since childhood, and now recalled how Jia Baoyu's reckless provocations over Ping'er's transfer to the Eastern Courtyard had made them the subject of mockery.

She had never encountered such behavior before; she had never known Jia Baoyu could act this way.

Yet after years beside him, a little thought revealed his hidden thoughts clearly.

He had been spoiled since childhood, always the phoenix of Lady Rongguo Prefecture; he claimed to cherish women, yet inwardly believed all good things belonged to him.

Seeing Ping'er's beauty now given to Cong Sanye Cong, he felt as if Cong owed him something—always twisting things, seeking excuses to meddle.

Deep down, he likely believed himself the only pure one, and everyone else had wronged him.

Now he had smashed an entire room of antiques, while she and Sister Xi Ren worried over how to handle the fallout—and yet he still spouted idle words. Was all their effort wasted?

But if Jia Baoyu continues like this, it serves no purpose—only invites ridicule. If he keeps acting this way, who knows what chaos will come next…

…

As Sister Xi Ren and Sheyue each brooded in silence, footsteps suddenly sounded outside—the unmistakable tread of many people entering the courtyard.

They both felt a chill; such commotion naturally bred unease.

Soon, Lin Lin Zhixiao's wife stormed in, followed by six old maids carrying three wooden chests, radiating an air of menace.

Sister Xi Ren and Sheyue exchanged startled glances, unsure what this spectacle meant.

Sister Xi Ren's face stiffened. "Madam Lin, what brings you here with so many? What is this about?"

Lin Lin Zhixiao's wife replied coldly: "Bao Er Ye, in a fit of rage, smashed the Western Courtyard's antiques. Second Mistress already knows."

Sister Xi Ren and Sheyue's faces turned pale; Feng'er had returned barely half an hour ago—yet Second Mistress moved so swiftly, so ruthlessly.

Lin Lin Zhixiao's wife turned to the maids: "Get to work—why are you standing there?"

The maids set down the chests and surged forward, carefully removing the remaining antiques from the shelves.

Among them was the exquisite, priceless jade incense burner of the Three Friends of Winter, which Caoyun had desperately clung to from Jia Baoyu's hands.

The maids wrapped each artifact in soft silk and cotton, then neatly packed them into the chests—swift, practiced, efficient.

Sister Xi Ren and Sheyue were stunned into silence, their faces pale with shock.

Finally, Sister Xi Ren snapped out of it and rushed forward to stop them.

"Madam Lin, what are you doing? How dare you remove items from Bao Er Ye's quarters? Jia Mu will never allow it!"

Lin Lin Zhixiao's wife sneered: "Second Mistress has decreed: since you dislike ancestral heirlooms, then none of them need be displayed.

All remaining antiques in this room are to be returned to the storehouse—preserved for future generations, lest you waste them all."

You say Jia Mu won't allow the removal of Bao Er Ye's things—but will she allow him to smash the Western Courtyard's property?"

The six antiques Jia Baoyu smashed are all recorded in the Western Courtyard's official ledger—fine pieces, rare heirlooms passed down from elders.

These belong to Cong Sanye Cong's inheritance; they cannot be smashed and dismissed so easily—no excuse can cover this."

Sister Xi Ren, you've served the Western Courtyard for years. Now, Bao Er Ye and Madam have moved to the Eastern Courtyard.

Cong Sanye, mindful of kinship, has never uttered a word of complaint—even though Jia Baoyu remains in the Western Courtyard.

He treats it as Jia Baoyu's duty to care for Jia Mu—brotherly affection, proper etiquette—he has done all he should.

Yet Jia Baoyu shows no gratitude. He smashes Cong Sanye's property in a tantrum. If you can justify this, I'll bow to you!"

…

Lin Lin Zhixiao's wife's words were sharp, overbearing, and utterly unassailable; Sister Xi Ren turned pale.

Though cunning, she lacked Sheyue's quick wit; faced with Lin Lin Zhixiao's wife's accusations, she was speechless.

Sister Xi Ren instinctively turned to Sheyue—only Sheyue's sharp tongue could counter this; they couldn't just let the room be emptied.

But Sheyue's face was grim; meeting Sister Xi Ren's pleading gaze, she slowly shook her head.

Sister Xi Ren realized: Sheyue was sharper than her, and had judged that speaking up would be useless—hence her silence.

Even if Sheyue spoke, or even Jia Baoyu himself appeared, they couldn't stop this. Only Jia Mu's word might have weight.

But Lin Lin Zhixiao's wife had brought chests and men—Second Mistress meant to strike before they could react.

There was no time to alert Jia Mu—and even if she did intervene, they'd permanently alienate Second Mistress.

She was the Western Courtyard's mistress; Sister Xi Ren and Sheyue were mere maids—no match for her. It was like an egg against a stone.

Even if Sister Xi Ren became Jia Baoyu's concubine, her title was empty—Second Mistress had countless ways to destroy her…

…

Sister Xi Ren hesitated only briefly—yet seven or eight antiques on the shelves, the jade inkstone of the Moon-Crushing Moon, the carved blackwood and marble screen on the table—

Several prominent pieces were swiftly seized by the maids.

One maid held an inventory ledger, pointing and directing others to remove specific items.

Soon, the hanging ancient sword and zither, the jade vases inlaid into the wall—all were taken down and packed, swift as a household raid.

When all visible antiques were cleared, Lin Lin Zhixiao's wife waved again; two maids brought out another chest.

"This chest holds new items—bought to replace Jia Baoyu's furnishings. They're cheap, worthless—smashing them won't hurt."

Sister Xi Ren's face burned; Second Mistress was openly humiliating Jia Baoyu—taking the valuable items, leaving no excuse for his actions.

Every word twisted his destruction into a moral failing, replacing them with cheap trinkets—seemingly thoughtful, but silencing all protest.

Even if Jia Mu learned of this, she could find no real fault with Second Mistress.

…

Lin Lin Zhixiao's wife added: "Feng'er reported that you provoked Bao Er Ye's rage, causing him to smash these things—was that false?"

Sister Xi Ren hurriedly replied: "It's true—we're to blame for provoking Bao Er Ye's anger."

Lin Lin Zhixiao's wife sneered: "Then none of you are innocent. The blame falls on you.

Cong Sanye fought on the battlefield in Liaodong, risking his life, earning his rank and title from corpses.

The entire annual income from Liaodong's hereditary estates barely reaches five thousand taels—enough to support the whole Eastern Courtyard.

I inquired at antique dealers—those six pieces are worth at least three thousand taels. If kept intact, they'd be worth far more.

Your negligence angered Jia Baoyu, and now he smashes three thousand taels' worth—nearly half a year's food for the Eastern Courtyard. How reckless.

Sell every one of you maids—you couldn't repay this sum.

Lady Rongguo Prefecture is a top-tier noble household in the capital, wealthy and vast—but such waste will ruin it. If everyone acts like this, we'll be bankrupt soon.

Second Mistress has decreed: if this goes unpunished, everyone will follow suit.

Starting from Sister Xi Ren, the seven maids in Bao Er Ye's quarters will have their monthly stipends suspended for three months—this month's pay is canceled too.

This is only a minor punishment. The losses will be recorded; if you cause more trouble, Second Mistress won't be so merciful!"

…

Xi Ren and She Nan Yue's faces turned grim at these words—four months' stipend confiscated, something never heard of in the household.

But seeing Lin Lin Zhixiao's wife coldly sizing them up, as if waiting for them to cause a scene, she seemed almost eager for things to escalate.

Xi Ren and She Nan Yue were no fools; they could plainly see Wang Wang Xifeng meant to strike hard, so they said nothing at all.

Suddenly, Qiu Wen walked into the room and said, "Aunt Lin, we've lit lamps and burned oil to serve Young Master, never daring to slack off.

Four months' stipend is half a year's pay—how are we supposed to live? Please, Aunt Lin, beg Second Mistress on our behalf. Second Madam will know…"

Xi Ren heard Qiu Wen mention "Second Madam" and knew trouble was coming—this fool, bringing up Second Madam now was like pouring oil on fire.

She couldn't help shouting, "Qiu Wen, be silent!"

Lin Lin Zhixiao's wife turned her gaze like daggers on Qiu Wen and said, "The affairs of the West Mansion are under Cong Sanye's authority, and Second Mistress manages them. We dare not trouble Second House Madam.

If you wish to drag Second Madam into this, go right ahead—I won't stop you.

And I won't beg Second Mistress on your behalf either. You go beg her yourself—see if she doesn't peel your skin off!"

Qiu Wen, hearing the cold, menacing tone, shuddered violently and dared not utter another word.

Lin Lin Zhixiao's wife shot Qiu Wen a glare, waved her hand, and her several maids lifted the chests and swept out of Jia Baoyu's courtyard like a whirlwind.

At that moment, Jia Baoyu stepped out from the inner chamber, displeased: "What's all this commotion again? Can't anyone have peace? What are you all stirring up now?"

Qiu Wen pouted and said, "Young Master, please speak for us—Second Mistress is too cruel! She's cutting off four months' stipend…"

She Nan Yue couldn't help stepping forward and spitting fiercely at Qiu Wen, cursing, "Shut that foul mouth of yours! If you want to die, at least pick a better time.

What's happened now, and you're goading Young Master into trouble? Why don't you try it yourself? Don't get blood splattered all over us!"

…

Bo Jue Mansion, Jia Cong's courtyard.

Night fell, a cool breeze stirred, the deep blue sky lifted a bright moon higher, spilling silver light across the courtyard.

Inside the main hall, a small banquet was underway, with soft laughter and chirping voices, occasionally punctuated by bell-like giggles.

Today was Ping'er's entry into the household; Jia Cong had returned home from court at sunset and set up this small feast to welcome her.

Bound by ancestral rites, there were no grand guests, no phoenix crowns or brocade robes—but from this day forward, one more soul would share their lives in quiet devotion.

And this woman was graceful, gentle, kind, and pure-hearted, already famed in the West Mansion.

Last October, Wang Wang Xifeng had betrothed Ping'er to Jia Cong; the matter was known throughout both mansions.

Wang Wang Xifeng had been thoughtful indeed: since the betrothal was settled, whenever duties required travel to the East Mansion, she sent Ping'er back and forth to help her become familiar with the connections.

Ping'er also managed household affairs alongside Wu'er in the West Mansion, deepening their bond.

Over these past half-years, Ping'er had come and gone through Jia Cong's courtyard on countless errands.

Zhi Shao, Qingwen, Zhen Ying Lady Lian, Lingguan—all had grown accustomed to her presence.

To them, Ping'er was merely moving into the East Mansion.

When the banquet began, Ping'er's shy expression made the atmosphere slightly awkward.

But the usual familiarity among them quickly dissolved the strangeness, and soon laughter and chatter filled the air.

When the feast ended, two kitchen maids came to clear the dishes; the rest, with unspoken understanding, smiled softly and returned to their rooms.

Jia Cong, however, felt a touch of awkwardness and said, "Sister Ping'er, let's go rest too."

He rose and headed toward his room; Ping'er, momentarily unsure, quickly followed behind him.

A gentle night breeze brushed past as they walked side by side down the long corridor; the lanterns hanging from the eaves stretched their shadows long, then gradually merged into one.

Jia Cong caught the sweet scent of womanhood behind him and thought only of night watch.

They had never been intimate before; such things were too abrupt, too rushed—there was time enough, let nature take its course.

When they entered the room, the candlelight burned bright and clear; Ping'er's cheeks flushed faintly as she turned to shut the door.

It was her first time sharing a room with a man—even though he was her destined husband—her heart still fluttered nervously, her limbs growing weak…

…

When the candlelight inside glowed brightly and their intertwined shadows appeared on the window lattice, two more shadows emerged at the far end of the corridor.

Under the lantern light, the two figures were slender and graceful; they stopped just outside the window, acting furtively.

Zhen Ying Lady Lian whispered, "Qingwen, why did you drag me here?"

Qingwen blurted out, "For courage—no, wait, aren't you even a little curious? What are Cong Sanye and Ping'er doing in there?"

Among Jia Cong's girls, Zhi Shao and Wu'er had already entered his room, stirring quiet thoughts in others.

But Lingguan was still only thirteen, not yet fully awakened, dazed and forgetful, never truly dwelling on such things.

Zhen Ying Lady Lian was a year older than Lingguan; she had served Jia Cong for years, accompanying him into his study, following him to the Liu residence, always at his side.

She had spent more time with Jia Cong than anyone else, and since she had not yet reached marriageable age, she was content with the status quo.

Only Qingwen, over fifteen and the same age as Jia Cong, was restless, her heart stirred by emotion, her curiosity keen…

Zhen Ying Lady Lian, hearing Qingwen's words, blushed faintly and murmured, "What's so strange? It's just night watch—we've all done it."

Qingwen snorted. "Ping'er just performed the rites in Rongqing Hall—do you think she came here just to keep watch at night? You're completely clueless."

Zhen Ying Lady Lian, insulted for lacking insight, bristled.

She said, "Who's clueless? I know perfectly well—it's either keeping watch at night or serving him in bed."

Qingwen frowned. "What's 'serving him in bed'? I've never heard that term before—is it new?"

Zhen Ying Lady Lian's face flushed crimson, barely holding back a laugh. "You've served Cong Sanye for years, you can read and write—why don't you ever read books?

All you do is mess around with needlework. You don't even know what 'serving him in bed' means—who's the one really clueless?"

Qingwen widened her eyes. "You're no better—a bookworm who spends all day in the study and can't even tell left from right when sewing socks for him!"

Zhen Ying Lady Lian, though teased, wasn't angry—she covered her mouth and giggled.

Qingwen muttered softly, "Fine, explain clearly—what does 'serving him in bed' mean?"

Zhen Ying Lady Lian's face burned hot, the flush visible even in the dark.

She hesitated, murmuring, "Serving him in bed means… it means two people are intimate."

Qingwen's face glowed with curiosity. "Serving him in bed means being intimate? Where's that written? Bring me the book tomorrow."

Suddenly, the window flew open. Jia Cong laughed: "Which one of you wants to serve me in bed?"

From inside the room came Ping'er's stifled, muffled laughter… (End of Chapter)