NOVEL NEXT Chapter 47: Chapter 47: Conspiracy
Qin Ziqin leaned back in his chair, his relaxed posture contrasting with the bright grin on his face as he cradled a teacup like it was the most precious treasure in the world. "I never thought this plan would work so quickly. Who would have guessed?" he mused.
"Some things are just easy to predict," Jiang Huaiyu replied with a calm expression. Though she usually avoided being dragged into the games of power and intrigue, she didn't mind lending a hand to Qin Ziqin—an ally who had proven reliable thus far.
From the way rumors swirled in the city and the hints of tension she picked up from Qin's behavior, Jiang could easily piece together the bigger picture. It was the classic tale of a hero who had achieved too much for his own good. His victories in the frontier had sparked both envy and fear, leaving Qin's family a target of imperial suspicion. It wouldn't be hard to imagine that the same forces had orchestrated the downfall of his once-mighty household, leaving him the sole survivor.
Hearing her blunt analysis, Qin's grin faded slightly. He swirled the tea in his cup, his gaze shifting to the bustling street below. The liveliness of everyday people seemed like a far-off dream compared to the suffocating realities of politics. His voice dropped, a rare touch of vulnerability creeping in. "All this scheming and backstabbing... It's exhausting. Sometimes, I wish I could just return to the frontier. Sure, the wind there is as sharp as knives, and it's not exactly paradise, but at least it's honest. Quiet."
"And what are you now? Qin the Marquis or Qin the General?" Jiang asked, setting down a book of poems she'd been skimming. Unlike the verses she cherished, which often carried the weight of hardship or strife, this new anthology was full of pretentious pieces about flowers and moonlight—far removed from the realities of common folk.
The question struck Qin Ziqin off guard. For a moment, he remained silent, his sharp brows furrowing slightly. Then, with a wry smile, he replied, "Does it even matter? Marquis, general… they're just titles. What's the point if I can't live as myself?" His voice softened, tinged with self-mockery. "At least meeting you has been a silver lining. You're one of the few who doesn't expect anything from me—except maybe the occasional witty comeback."
Jiang Huaiyu leaned back, not quite convinced she shared the same sentiment. Friends? Perhaps. Trusted confidants? She wasn't so sure. "You can't fool everyone forever. Even the best disguise slips eventually. If you don't decide what you truly want, all you'll be left with is an act. And honestly? That sounds exhausting."
Her words hit Qin Ziqin harder than he expected. A bitter laugh escaped his lips. "What I want…" His sharp gaze locked onto hers, filled with a burning intensity. "Have you ever seen bandits—disguised as nomads—storm a village? Slaughtering, looting, burning everything to the ground? Or watched corrupt officials grind their townsfolk into despair? That's what I fight against. What I want is simple: peace for those who live in constant fear. I'll keep playing this role, as long as it protects the frontier. If the emperor decides to dispose of me, I'll face it head-on. I'll die standing."
Jiang Huaiyu didn't flinch at his raw emotion. Instead, her tone softened, laced with an almost maternal warmth. "I see. Then you have my support."
Setting the poetry book aside, she added casually, "Let's adjust the split for the bath powder business. Starting next month, give me 30% of the profits. I'll use my share to stock up on provisions for the winter—dried meat, extra cotton for clothing. It's not much, but it's something for the soldiers. They're the real heroes."
Her unexpected generosity caught Qin off guard, but his surprise quickly gave way to a genuine smile. "I didn't think you'd ever part with your silver willingly. But since you're offering, I'll graciously accept." He raised his teacup in a mock toast, the warmth in his gaze a stark contrast to the bitterness from before. "To unlikely friendships."
Jiang simply nodded. Inwardly, she thought it was a good thing he wasn't too curious about her motives. While Qin Ziqin fought battles on the frontier, her war was one of quiet endurance and careful navigation. Different battlefields, but no less perilous.
Inside the Grand Imperial Palace
In the opulent yet foreboding Xuanqian Hall, the emperor sat behind a grand lacquered desk. His dragon-embroidered robe seemed to glow under the dim light of the chamber. Despite his dignified appearance, his expression was stormy, anger flashing in his tired eyes. "That boy, Ziqin, is an utter disgrace! His frivolities were tolerable before, but now he's sunk so low as to dabble in that—a weakness unbecoming of a Qin! How am I supposed to explain this to his ancestors?"
The eunuch standing nearby bowed deeply, murmuring soothing words as he refilled the emperor's teacup. His movements were deliberate, measured, like a man walking a tightrope.
The emperor's rant continued. "Prime Minister Cui, I must admit fault for pushing that marriage proposal too hastily. Ziqin is talented, yes, but this… scandal…" He sighed heavily, shaking his head in exasperation. "It's a disgrace."
Prime Minister Cui, the picture of elderly deference, spoke up with carefully chosen words. "Your Majesty, your concern for the realm is unparalleled, and we, your humble servants, are truly blessed. As for my daughter, it seems fate has deemed this match unsuitable. It's for the best if the proposal is withdrawn."
The emperor rubbed his temple, visibly conflicted. "What of Ziqin's lineage? Without a wife or heir, the Qin family line ends with him."
Cui's lips twitched slightly before forming a solemn expression. "There is a solution, Your Majesty. A branch family of the Qins resides near the outskirts of the capital. They are humble farmers, but virtuous. Perhaps one of their sons could be adopted to continue the line."
The emperor's furrowed brows relaxed as he considered the suggestion. "An excellent idea, Prime Minister. If Ziqin insists on his path, then so be it. At least this way, the Qin name won't fade into history."
In the Shadowed Corners of the Palace
Later that night, the emperor's private chamber was steeped in an eerie quiet. His once-regal posture was gone, replaced by a hunched figure muttering incoherently to himself. The golden sheen of his robe looked dull under the flickering candlelight. On a nearby jade tray, several crimson pills lay scattered.
"I was right… I've always been right," the emperor whispered, his voice a mix of paranoia and triumph. His eyes darted around the room, seeing threats where none existed. "The Qins thought they could challenge me? Foolish! They're all dead now. Even their ghosts are powerless!"
Back in Jiang Huaiyu's peaceful courtyard
As summer's oppressive heat gradually gave way to the crisp touch of autumn winds, Jiang Huaiyu found herself savoring a rare moment of peace. Beside her, her little son Tangbao babbled incoherently, his small mouth trying to form words that didn't quite connect. Occasionally, he would pause, a serious expression crossing his chubby face as though puzzled by whether he had said something wrong.
In the household, things were running smoothly. Madam Xu, the older servant, and the newly hired maid Zhu Zhu had proven themselves hardworking and dependable. Even under Xiaocao's watchful eye, neither woman had shown a hint of defiance or laziness. While Zhu Zhu had a bit of a tendency to nitpick, it didn't overshadow her virtues. In no time, she and Xiaocao had become close friends, with Zhu Zhu often trailing behind the younger girl. As for Xiaocao herself, she had taken on her new role with such confidence and grace that she seemed more like a proper head maid than a mere assistant.
Madam Xu arrived with a fresh pot of flower tea and a small bowl of boiled peanuts. The tea, brewed from a blend of dried blossoms, was fragrant but lacked depth—it was pleasant yet uninspiring. Jiang Huaiyu couldn't help but think wistfully of real tea leaves and the richness they could bring to her cup.
"Life is rather comfortable now," she mused aloud, the warmth of the tea in her hands as soothing as the scene before her.
"Of course, Madam! Every day will be more prosperous and blessed from now on!" Xiaocao chimed in, her cheerful voice as crisp as a freshly picked apple.
Jiang Huaiyu glanced up and couldn't help but tease her. "Speaking of blessings, did Manager Qi share any poetic insights with you today when you delivered his lunch?"
"No! Absolutely not!" Xiaocao's face turned a bright shade of red. "Manager Qi is a scholar; why would he discuss poetry with me?"
Her flustered response made Jiang Huaiyu chuckle. It wasn't baseless teasing—on several occasions, she had noticed Qi Que treating Xiaocao with an unusual kindness, one that went beyond simple politeness. And as for Xiaocao, her admiration for scholarly types was evident in the way her eyes lit up whenever books or poetry were mentioned.
But Jiang Huaiyu had no intention of letting her young maid fall into a one-sided infatuation without realizing it herself. Through playful remarks, she hoped to nudge Xiaocao into examining her own feelings more closely.
Sighing softly, Jiang Huaiyu thought about how her life had turned out. She had crossed time and space, becoming a single mother in this unfamiliar world. And now, on top of everything else, she found herself meddling in someone else's love life. Taking a sip of her bland tea, she clicked her tongue inwardly at the absurdity of it all.
"Oh, by the way," she said, setting her cup down, "Fuyao Fragrance sent over another batch of perfume. Pick a scent you like and share the rest with Zhu Zhu and Madam Xu. Also, help me arrange for some bath powders and a bottle of perfume to be delivered to a woman named Zheng Xiaoyue in Wangjia Village."
"Understood!" Xiaocao replied with a clear voice before returning her attention to practicing her calligraphy.
Jiang Huaiyu had initially been intrigued when Fuyao Fragrance opened its doors. Perfume was an entirely new luxury in Da Yun, a nation that wasn't particularly known for indulgent self-care items. She had expected it to cause a sensation, especially in the bustling capital. However, she soon discovered through Qin Ziqin that the perfumes weren't actually meant for the masses. Instead, the products were exclusively distributed to the homes of noblewomen and affluent families, with Fuyao Fragrance's storefront serving merely as a façade.
Rumor had it that during several recent garden parties, the noblewomen who wore the perfumes had attracted swarms of butterflies, creating enchanting scenes that captivated poets, scholars, and young masters alike. Such stories quickly turned the perfumes into objects of desire, adding to their mystique and allure.