Chapter 482: Jia Lian: 'Above the lust character hangs a blade; to endure one cut is to have made a cut

The story splits into two.

Feng Jie had been busy arranging things at the banquet front and back for most of the day; although it was already autumn, the midday sun was still somewhat poisonous, and after several trips her close-fitting undershirt was soaked half through with sweat, sticking uncomfortably to her body, making her feel very ill at ease.

She then took advantage of Jia Mu and the others being engrossed in the opera, slipped out from under the corridor, bringing Ping'er, Feng'er and a few other maidservants, and walked along the covered walkway toward her own courtyard, intending to change into dry clothes before returning.

Just as she turned the corner of the covered walkway, she saw a little girl leaning against the railing below, about twelve or thirteen years old, with her hair tied in topknots, nodding off.

Feng Jie recognized at a glance that this was a little maid from Jia Lian's household; her brows furrowed slightly, and she had a bad premonition.

Hearing the footsteps, the girl jerked her head up, saw Feng Jie, was startled, and opened her mouth to cry out.

Feng Jie, being who she is, saw the girl's flustered expression and hesitant-to-speak demeanor, and immediately sensed something was wrong.

She rushed forward in two‑step strides, seized the girl's ear in one grip, lowered her voice, and gritted her teeth:

"If you dare to make a sound, I'll smash your mouth!"

The girl turned pale at once and trembled all over like a sieve.

Feng Jie dragged her to a secluded corner of the wall and demanded:

"Speak honestly, what is Lian Er doing in there? If you hide a single word from me, I'll have someone heat a branding iron and sear you with it!"

Terrified out of her wits, the little maid burst into tears and confessed everything.

As it turned out, halfway through the feast before Jia Mu's birthday banquet, Jia Lian had already been plied with drink to the point of half‑drunkenness, excusing himself as unable to hold his liquor, and first returned to his room to rest.

But tossing and turning, he couldn't sleep from the heat; he summoned the little maid to ask about Feng Jie's whereabouts, learning that she was accompanying Jia Mu to watch the opera and couldn't leave for a while.

He then took three ingots of silver and three bolts of silk from the chest, and had the maid secretly deliver them to Yan Hong, the concubine of Jia She, telling her to come over.

Yan Hong accepted the items and came along; at that moment she was in the room, and Jia Lian again ordered the maid to keep watch under the corridor, reporting any movement at once.

As for what happened afterward, the maid had no idea!

Upon hearing this, Feng Jie immediately knew that Jia Lian's old ailment had flared up again, and he was literally putting a green hat on himself!

At once she felt a surge of hot blood rush to her head, her whole body went limp, and even her lips trembled with rage.

She drew two deep breaths, steadied herself, gave Ping'er and Feng'er a look, and the group tiptoed to the base of the window.

As they drew near, they heard waves of lewd laughter from inside—it was Jia Lian and Yan Hong speaking.

"You're just like your father, both of you lust‑starved ghosts, burning with desire…"

That was Yan Hong's voice, soft and coquettish, with a hint of flirtatious charm.

Next came Jia Lian's weak, wanton laugh:

"Haven't you heard, 'On the head of the character for lust hangs a blade; to endure one cut is to have cut'—shouldn't you hurry up?"

"I wish your lecherous old father and that wife of King Yama would die soon, so we could grow old together." Yan Hong said.

Jia Lian chuckled and said:

"If she died, we still couldn't see the light of day. You are the master's concubine; no matter how I drift, I could never make the master's woman legitimate."

"Even if we married someone else later, it would be the same—these girls from aristocratic families all have a sour attitude, are strict about propriety, this won't do, that won't do, it's annoying."

"So you like to seek fresh novelty in the daughters of my lowly household?"

Yan Hong's tone carried a hint of playful, wanton reproach.

"If your wife of King Yama were dead, you could make Ping'er legitimate." Yan Hong added, her tone tentative.

"I see Ping'er as gentle and pliable, easy to control; she will surely obey you in everything, unlike your mother‑nightmare who keeps you under tight rein."

Jia Lian sighed, his voice full of resentment:

"She won't even let me touch Ping'er! Only recently, after I got a good post from my third brother that brings in monthly tribute, did she reluctantly agree, saying she would give Ping'er to me at year's end."

"Alas, everyone in the household before has been driven out by her pretexts; why am I fated to suffer this mother‑nightmare? I only hope Heaven opens its eyes and takes her away soon, so I can have some good days."

"Why don't you first do away with her?" Yan Hong's voice dropped, taking on a sinister tone, "Just find a good poison, and unbeknownst to gods or ghosts, you could send her on her way…"

Jia Lian burst into laughter, his chuckle mingling relief and timidity, and said:

"What a venomous beauty! She's truly a product of the master's training. But now that my third brother runs the household, that nightmare star is best at flattering him— to mess with this ghost would be suicide; I'd better deal with you first…"

Before he finished speaking, another burst of objectionable laughter came from inside.

When Feng Jie heard the words 'find a good poison,' her blood ran cold halfway.

Upon hearing Jia Lian's 'I'll deal with you first,' she felt a surge of wicked fire rush to her forehead, her eyes turned red, she could no longer restrain herself, spun around, hurried to the closed door, and kicked it open with a bang.

Inside, the two were rolling on the bed in wild abandon; the sudden kick‑in the door terrified them out of their wits.

Yan Hong shrieked, hastily pulled the blanket over herself, while Jia Lian tumbled out of the bed in a flop, scrambling to grab his clothes.

Feng Jie looked at the disheveled adulterous couple on the bed, fury flaring in her chest, she pointed at Yan Hong, her voice trembling with rage:

"You shameless hussy! You steal another man's husband and still want to kill his wife! You brazen wretch!"

She said this and lunged to grab Yan Hong's hair, but she was naturally weak‑armed, and with her anger‑induced agitation her hands shook; instead, Yan Hong shoved her in the struggle, causing her to stagger back two steps, nearly falling.

Ping'er, standing at the door, saw this and rushed to support her, but Feng Jie shook off Ping'er's hand and shouted sternly:

"Feng'er! Why aren't you coming in? Hold that wretch down for me!"

Feng'er heard the charge and rushed in; she was an experienced servant, nimble and strong, and in a few moves pinned Yan Hong firmly to the ground.

Feng Jie stepped forward, swung her arm round, and delivered a resounding slap to Yan Hong's powdered face, instantly swelling one side of her cheek as she howled like a pig being slaughtered.

"You shameless hussy! See if you still dare to curse me!" Feng Jie gritted her teeth and backhanded her with another slap.

At this moment Ping'er also rushed forward, intending to mediate, but then she suddenly recalled the words she had overheard outside the window—she herself was innocent, yet these two had used her as gossip, even saying they would wait for Feng Jie's death to take her as a wife; now she wondered if she could still fare well.

Feeling both wronged and furious, she could not help but step forward and strike Yan Hong twice, shouting angrily:

"What business is it of yours to drag me into your shameless deeds!"