Chapter Fourteen: Revenge

Madam Xie’s temples twitched with irritation.

Were it not for her reason restraining her, she would have asked Wang Heng outright: Girl, do you take our family’s estate for a prison?

Even a prison feeds its inmates.

The youngest daughter of the Wang family, about to be sent to the estate—not worrying about falling out of favor, nor caring when she would be recalled—only concerned herself with one thing: food.

At last, Madam Xie understood why this child was so… plump.

“...Ajiu, put your heart at ease. Even at the estate, your meals, clothing, and all you require shall be as at home!”

Madam Xie could not bring herself to answer Wang Heng’s question—“Will I have enough to eat?”—directly, for such words were an affront to the dignity of the Wangs. The illustrious Wang clan of Langya, even in their lowest days, when driven from the capital and besieged by rioters at their fortress, had never once feared hunger.

This Ninth Miss… ah, never mind, she’s still a child, and with her mother gone, she’s left in the care of an inept nursemaid.

Madam Xie fingered her prayer beads, casting a displeased glance at the nurse and the maids attending Wang Heng. She resolved that, when the dust had settled, she would personally choose a strict and proper old nurse to send to the estate, to see the girl raised right.

Wang Heng knew nothing of the “Nanny Rong” about to enter her life. She was delighted by her grandmother’s promise.

Her chubby little face was wreathed in satisfaction. “That’s wonderful! With that, I’m at ease!”

Madam Xie: ...

So, as long as she’s fed, the girl cares nothing for being sent away from home?

Madam Xie had feared Wang Heng would resist, and had prepared an arsenal of persuasion, even bribes and threats. Yet none of these were needed; the girl was more than cooperative.

No need for entreaties or stern admonitions—Wang Heng agreed readily. Madam Xie did not need to waste her words, yet she felt no satisfaction.

This was separation from home, from kin—and yet the child showed not a trace of reluctance.

Fortunately, Wang Heng could not read her grandmother’s thoughts, else she might have asked in all innocence: “If I were unwilling, could I stay?”

But Wang Heng was long accustomed to the truth: for matters she could not change, it was best to go along quietly, to avoid greater suffering.

“...Go on, then!”

Madam Xie, finding her round, unlucky granddaughter an eyesore, waved her off impatiently.

She even instructed Wang Heng and her attendants, “I am too old to bear partings. When you go, there’s no need to come and bid me farewell.”

She truly could not bear the sight of the girl’s aggravating little face.

Wang Heng’s eyes brightened. What luck! She had not wanted to bid her grandmother farewell anyway. First, she would have to kneel, feign reluctance, and squeeze out a few tears—troublesome, and though she could manage it, she simply did not wish to. Second, if she went early to say farewell, she might miss the first batch of steamed cakes from the kitchen, hot and fragrant with wheat and fresh fillings—enough to make any foodie’s mouth water.

A pity she was to be sent to the estate—she did not know if there would be a skilled cook there. Wait—a cook? Just now, her grandmother said she could make requests.

Perhaps she could—

Wang Heng, halfway through her farewell, paused and turned back. “Grandmother, I—I have one more request!”

Madam Xie: ...

She had a premonition: whatever the girl was about to say would be astonishing.

With a deep breath, Madam Xie asked evenly, “What is it?”

“The cook from our kitchen—her food is my favorite. Could I bring her to the estate?”

Madam Xie: ...As expected, the girl’s requests never failed to leave her speechless.

“...You may.”

A mere cook, and one who belonged to the Jiang household. Even if Madam Xie did not send her away, once Lady Cui realized, she would intervene.

But—wait!

Was the child truly only greedy, and thus wanted her favorite cook, or was she trying to safeguard one of her mother’s loyal servants?

Madam Xie, the undisputed champion of the Wang family’s inner-court intrigues, could not help but consider matters through the lens of schemes and counter-schemes. She studied Wang Heng’s plump face, searching for any sign of guile.

Wang Heng, her chin lifted, revealing two layers of chins, looked as guileless as a steamed bun—her face full of candor, purity, and sincerity.

Madam Xie gripped her prayer beads. Was this child a born actress, or truly innocent?

But soon she relaxed—what did it matter, either way? The girl was going to the estate regardless, and soon she would send a proper, stern nurse to ensure the Ninth Miss became the model daughter of the Wang family.

...

That dawn, before the sky had lightened, the nurse, Bai Zhi, and the other servants were already up. They packed Wang Heng's clothes, toys, jewelry, and makeup boxes—some into chests, some into bundles. The sturdy maids bustled in the courtyard, carrying everything to the carriage in the rear court.

The cook, too, gathered her usual pots, utensils, and a selection of her sauces and pickles.

Perhaps Madam Xie had truly been “worn down” by Wang Heng’s endless requests, for she sent over rare ingredients the previous evening—bird’s nest, silver fungus, cane sugar, and various dried goods. These were treasures of great households, rarely seen by common folk.

Madam Xie was not one for indulgence, but better that these were eaten by her chubby granddaughter than left to spoil in the storehouse. Consider it her token of affection for the little one “sacrificing” herself for the family.

The cook stowed these treasures carefully on the carriage.

“Come now, time to bid farewell to your father.”

Madam Xie had forbidden a parting with herself, but Wang Lin had made no such decree. According to custom, Wang Heng must still bid farewell to her father and Lady Cui.

But as they reached the main courtyard, they found the gates tightly shut.

Wang Heng blinked. “Has Mother forgotten I’m leaving for the estate today?”

The nurse and Bai Zhi exchanged glances, bitter inside. Lady Cui had not forgotten; she simply did not wish to see the Ninth Miss. Heartless woman—driving out a six-year-old and refusing even the courtesy of a parting.

Not even feigning motherly affection! Some people, if only for reputation’s sake, would at least pretend. But Lady Cui cared for neither reputation nor decorum—such people were the most dangerous, for without even the constraint of appearances, what could check them?

Yet in truth, the nurse and Bai Zhi had wronged Lady Cui this time. Perhaps, having finally succeeded in her schemes, and exhausted from yesterday’s exertions at the Lou estate, Lady Cui had fallen into a deep sleep.

But at the hour of the tiger (3 a.m.), she woke with a start, feeling something amiss. She hurried up to find a few red spots on her underclothes—frightened, she called for the family physician.

The Wang family’s doctor quickly arrived, took her pulse, asked a few questions, and pronounced, “It’s nothing serious—perhaps just overexertion or emotional turmoil. I’ll prescribe a tonic if you wish, but it’s not necessary.”

Relieved, Lady Cui declined the medicine, and after another hour without incident, returned to bed. The servants, all exhausted, slept on.

So when Wang Heng came to say her farewells, the main house was dark and silent.

“Perhaps Mother is indisposed,” Wang Heng said calmly, even going so far as to excuse her mother.

“If that’s so, I won’t disturb her.”

A farewell need not be face-to-face.

Wang Heng knelt before the closed gates, bowing respectfully. “Mother, Jiu-niang is leaving! I wish you health and happiness in all things!”

Her soft, milky voice carried clear in the quiet dawn.

Wang Lin, who had worked late into the night in his study, remembered that this was the day his daughter was to leave. After barely an hour’s rest, he hurried back to the main house, only to see a small, round figure kneeling in farewell at the gate.

He clenched his fists—blue veins standing out against his pale skin. That Lady Cui—so brazen as to deny even the forms of courtesy! Not only did she ignore his daughter, but she slighted the Wang family itself.

No need for royal comparison—even the neighboring Lou family would not treat one of their own so. The Lady Dowager of the Lou family, even if she disliked her own grandson, would at least feign affection.

Lady Cui’s conduct was not mere temper, but a sign that, in her heart, she had never regarded the Wang family as anything at all.

A cold light flashed in Wang Lin’s eyes—he would have his revenge.

...

“Ajiu, do not worry. Every ten days, or on holidays, I shall come to the estate to see you.”

Suppressing his turmoil, Wang Lin walked to the gate, bent down, and lifted his daughter into his arms.

She was heavy, but for a gentleman practiced in the Six Arts, carrying a sixty-pound child was nothing.

He did not take her inside, but carried her straight to the stables, where a carriage was ready.

He placed her on the carriage. Standing at the shaft, she was almost level with him.

Father and daughter looked at each other. Wang Lin handed her a sheaf of deeds. “Ajiu, these are the deeds to the house and lands of the estate, and the indentures for the servants. From now on, this estate is yours.”

His daughter was not being sent away for punishment, but to recuperate on her own property.

Wang Heng’s eyes lit up—her father was the most generous. He gave not money or trinkets, but the whole estate.

There, she would be the little mistress, free to eat and drink as she pleased.

“Thank you, Father!” Wang Heng did not hesitate, quickly taking the deeds and tucking them into her robes with fluid movements that surprised Wang Lin.

Yet her ready acceptance and sincere gratitude gave him a moment of true fatherly satisfaction.

Wang Lin personally saw the carriage out of the rear gates of the county office. He stood at the roadside, watching as it rolled away.

Wang Heng, seeing her father, stuck her plump, lotus-root-like arm out the window and waved vigorously.

Wang Lin: ...

Why did this scene remind him so much of that day he was forced to send A-Jiang away to the Yang family?

That Lady Cui—forcing him to such lengths, he would not forgive her.

He did not know how long he stood there. By the time the sun was high, he was nearly dizzy with heat. As he turned to head home, the sound of hooves echoed from the distance.

“The Lou family’s silver-armored guards? Could it be the eldest son of the Lou family, here to see Jiu-niang?”

Wang Lin frowned, but then, remembering his plans for revenge against Lady Cui, he broke into a smile. “Ha, just in time!”