Chapter 871: The Crimson Fur

When Jia Cong heard the seasonal gift was from the Xia family, his interest vanished completely.

He took the black fur-lined coat, noticing its exquisite, luxurious craftsmanship, with buttons carved from white jade.

The fur was dense, snug, glossy, and smooth to the touch, with an exceptionally fine feel.

When skin rubbed against the fur, a gentle warmth arose—only the finest fur possessed this quality.

Jia Cong had served in Liaodong, and his noble estate’s farmlands were also in Liaodong; rare furs from beyond the pass were a famed local product.

Whether from gifts among comrades or harvests from his estate’s farms, Jia Cong had handled all kinds of fur.

So he had some knowledge of fur quality.

He said: “Pure black bear fur is common, but adult bear fur is thick and coarse, nothing like this fine, soft texture—it seems to be fox fur.”

“But black fox fur is extremely rare; Qingwen was right—this coat is truly unusual.”

Qingwen said: “You’re correct, Third Master—it’s fox fur, and a rare Xuan fox fur at that.

Look how glossy and jet-black it is, not a single stray hair.

This is top-grade material; I didn’t recognize it myself before, but when I served in Rongqing Hall, the Old Lady had a Xuan fox fur.

But the Old Lady’s fur was small, too small to make a garment—she only spread it on the Luohan bed in winter to cushion her waist and back.

I also heard the Old Lady say Xuan fox fur is rarer than white fox fur; some hunters spend their whole lives without seeing one.

She said Xuan fox fur carries strong yang energy, promotes blood circulation, wards off evil, dispels cold, and improves blood flow—it’s an elite fur treasure.

This black fur coat of yours must require at least three Xuan foxes to make; this thing is truly precious.”

“Miss Xia is the future Second Master’s wife; Third Master is merely a cousin of the Second Master—even if close, you’re from a different branch.

It’s just the Lantern Festival gift exchange; families send simple tokens, nothing more than seasonal courtesy.

Everyone says the Osmanthus Xia family is immensely wealthy—it’s clearly true.

Miss Xia sent you this gift only because of the Second Master, a casual afterthought—and yet she sends a Xuan fox coat.

She treats silver like dirt; this future Second Master’s wife is far too extravagant.”

…

Qingwen, skilled in needlework and attentive to fine fabrics, spoke casually out of curiosity.

But she spoke without intent; Jia Cong listened with intent.

Since Xia Jingui entered Jia Cong’s awareness, knowing her true nature, he had always kept his distance.

Tan Chun, as a daughter of the second branch, was bound by household etiquette; whenever the Xia mother and daughter visited, Tan Chun was often called to entertain Xia Jingui.

Jia Cong feared Tan Chun, unaware of the truth, would suffer at Xia Jingui’s hands, and repeatedly warned her privately to be cautious—his estrangement ran deep.

As Jia and Xia families grew closer, eventually sealing a marital alliance, Xia relatives came and went frequently, and Jia Cong and Xia Jingui met many times.

With his wit and acuity, he naturally noticed how Xia Jingui’s gaze burned with unusual heat each time she saw him.

Jia Cong was a normal man, with lifetimes of experience—he understood why a young woman would look at a man that way.

But he felt no pride from it; instead, he grew more wary, distancing himself further to avoid trouble.

Whether due to Wang Xifeng and Lady Wang’s internal feud or the clan’s ritual norms,

Jia Cong was glad to see Bao Yu moved out of the West Mansion, even helping push it along.

Not only to safeguard the first branch’s estate and preserve the West Mansion’s women’s reputations,

But also to prevent Xia Jingui, once married into the Jia family, from dragging the Rong Mansion’s inner quarters into complications through lingering ties to Bao Yu.

…

Since Bao Yu was relocated to the East Road Courtyard, this strange “Golden-Jade Match”’s impact on both mansions was suppressed to the lowest possible level, stirring no waves.

This situation was exactly what Jia Cong wanted—he was about to depart for battle and would be away for a long time; he desired stability in both mansions.

He did not wish any change to upset this balance or breed gossip or complications.

Now, without cause, Xia Jingui sent expensive fur garments—it was suspicious, and he saw no good in it; why invite karmic entanglement?

…

Ping’er, hearing Qingwen’s words, grew curious and stepped forward to examine the Xuan fox coat.

She smiled: “This fur coat is indeed fine; Qingwen speaks sense, but it’s nothing extraordinary.

Though the Jia family is wealthy, their wealth comes from noble estates and properties acquired over years—annual income is fixed.

The Xia family has no official rank, but they’re a major imperial merchant, running vast trade; yearly profits vary wildly, their silver has no fixed limit.

In terms of pure silver reserves, they likely surpass the Jia family; they have only one daughter, and all their wealth passes to her alone—why would they hesitate to spend?

The Third Master is now the lord of both mansions, one of the top figures in the Divine Capital; Miss Xia is the future daughter-in-law—she must return gifts properly and respectfully, and cannot neglect the lord’s rites.

What she sends out won’t be trivial; if she gives Third Master a Xuan fox coat, what she gives Bao Yu must be better—that’s only natural.

It’s simply how wealthy families operate: when one raises the bar, all follow. Nothing strange about it.”

Qingwen laughed: “Sister Ping’er has insight—I never thought of these reasons. But having silver is truly wonderful; they just hand out Xuan fox fur.”

Jia Cong, amused by Qingwen’s words, laughed: “If you like this Xuan fox coat so much, take it—you don’t need to thank me.”

Though Xuan fox fur was precious, Jia Cong felt uneasy about such a lavish gift from Miss Xia.

But since it was a marital gift exchange, he wouldn’t return it—that would be petty, beneath the dignity of his station.

The East Mansion’s storerooms held many fine herbs and furs; a more generous return gift would suffice.

This Xuan fox fur, regardless of motive, he would never wear.

Since he’d accepted it, he could give it to anyone—it wouldn’t invite misinterpretation, and he had no further concerns; it was just a coat.

…

Qingwen froze, saying: “Third Master, this is too precious—I have no fortune to wear it. You keep it.”

Jia Cong laughed and scolded: “It’s just a coat—don’t talk about fortune. Take it. I have better ones.”

Qingwen grinned: “So Third Master is even more generous than Second Master’s wife—giving Xuan fox fur to maids. Being your maid is truly lucky, hehe.”

Ping’er laughed: “You’re always talking too much—take the gift and stop pretending modesty. Just accept it.”

Jia Cong suddenly asked: “Sister Ping’er, you said what he gave Bao Yu was better—did you see the Xia family’s gift list?”

Ping’er smiled: “I haven’t seen it, but by social custom, it must be so.

Third Master’s gift was delivered directly to the East Mansion; another was sent straight to the East Road Courtyard—Bao Yu’s must be inside.

This afternoon, while managing affairs in the West Mansion, I heard Lin Zhixiao’s wife say another gift went to the Old Lady, with its list delivered to Rongqing Hall.

This future Second Master’s wife is orderly and capable—she’ll be a formidable daughter-in-law.”

…

Jia Cong smiled faintly: “She’s certainly capable…”

Qingwen was fiddling with the Xuan fox coat when she heard Jia Cong mutter. Not catching it clearly, she asked: “Third Master, what did you say?”

Jia Cong said: “I said nothing. This Xuan fox coat is too conspicuous—don’t mention it to anyone, especially not in the West Mansion.

You know Lady Wang is a schemer; avoid stirring up household gossip—it’s pointless.”

Qingwen didn’t care much and just nodded vaguely.

Ping’er, as a household manager, was sharp and perceptive, well-versed in human relations—far more thoughtful than Qingwen’s blunt simplicity; she caught Jia Cong’s implication.

She said: “Third Master, rest assured—we know the weight of this. Tomorrow morning I’ll instruct the maids in the courtyard.

Of us, only I and Wu’er go to the West Mansion often; others visit only a few times a year—no idle talk will spread.”

Jia Cong said: “I leave this to Sister Ping’er. I’m exhausted from today’s affairs—go rest.

Tomorrow I’ll have Second Sister send a return gift; we shouldn’t owe them too much.”

…

When Qingwen saw Jia Cong enter the inner chamber, she suddenly said: “Sister Ping’er, Miss Xia is very courteous—she never forgets Third Master in any gift exchange.

But Third Master acts as if he doesn’t care, always keeping his distance from the Xia family—is it just me imagining things?”

Ping’er’s heart stirred slightly; recalling Jia Cong’s earlier words, she sensed his underlying wariness.

Yet Miss Xia was outstanding, refined and elegant—hardly unpleasant.

Why did Third Master’s tone always carry coldness, as if he wanted to keep her ten feet away? What was the reason?

But she said: “It’s not strange. You know well—Second Master constantly causes trouble, and Lady Wang is selfish.

Miss Xia is Bao Yu’s future wife; Third Master naturally avoids closeness to prevent unnecessary entanglements.

Besides, even after she marries in, she’ll be from a different branch—not like Third Sister, who grew up with us since childhood.

Third Master keeping his distance is just household etiquette—utterly ordinary.”

Qingwen, simple-minded and asking on a whim, found Ping’er’s explanation reasonable and let it go; both returned to their rooms to rest.

The next morning, Yingchun and the other sisters came as usual; they gathered for breakfast, chatting about daily matters.

Before leaving, Jia Cong privately reminded Yingchun to prepare a return gift to repay the Xia family’s kindness.

As he reached the courtyard gate, he suddenly remembered something: “Second Sister, pick two diligent maids for me—I need them.”

Yingchun was about to ask why when Jia Cong hurried out the gate.

The Five Armies had been ordered to mobilize; yesterday they already marched north. The last batch of porcelain thunder munitions had just been completed—he too must lead his troops out of the city.