Chapter 6

Without a second thought the Emperor said, "Confiscate them."
"Yes, Your Majesty." Wu Dongming breathed a quiet sigh of relief, he'd withstood the pressure and not returned the betrothal gifts to the Marquis Dingyuan’s household, thus following the Emperor's will.
That girl was right: the ruler's mind is unfathomable. Don't try to guess it, if you don't understand, ask; obey orders and keep your head down.
Yes, credit to her for that.
The Emperor paused briefly, then said, "Make sure the case is investigated thoroughly and promptly. No delays."
"Yes."
Wu Dongming waited a moment longer; when the sovereign said nothing further, he took his leave.
He stepped outside and immediately ran into the Imperial Consort and the Third Prince, hastening forward to bow. "Your Highness, Consort. Your Highness, Third Prince."
The Consort wore an air of aloof dignity and did not so much as glance his way.
The Third Prince was hot-blooded and impatient. "Minister Wu, I heard you just had the Vice Minister of Revenue's residence searched?"
He was born of the Consort, spoiled into a little tyrant and indulged in every way.
Seeing the little scion made Wu Dongming ache; so unreasonable, yet the Emperor favored him all the same.
He answered with practiced formality, "Acting on the Emperor's orders."
The Third Prince scowled and demanded, "The Marquis Dingyuan's betrothal gifts are rightfully his to reclaim when the marriage doesn't go through, why refuse? Are you deliberately slapping my mother in the face?"
The Marquis Dingyuan was his uncle, the heir was his cousin, faithful allies tied to his fortunes. Refusing the Marquis Dingyuan respect was a refusal to him and to his mother.
What an tactless little toady.
Wu Dongming folded his hands with the utmost deference. "I would never be so bold; it is the Emperor's decree."
In other words, if you have grievances, take them to the Emperor.
He knew the Third Prince was blowing things out of proportion, who told him to expect Wu Dongming to join his camp? The man hadn't pledged himself to the prince.
Did he not understand that the Wuyi Guards weren't pawns a prince could simply snap his fingers for? Rush to build forces to squeeze out the heir and how would the Emperor see that?
The Third Prince's face darkened. He was about to say more when a soft cough came from inside the palace; he instantly put on a smile and called out, "Father, your son is here."
Turning on a dime, moods changing like pages in a book.
Wu Dongming lowered his eyes. There are no naïve, sweet royals; how many masks have they put on their faces?
Spoiled? Entitled? Arrogant? Those are probably masks too.
The princes were grown now; the struggle for succession was already taking shape. Court officials were starting to choose sides, whipping up waves of turmoil.
But the Wuyi Guards were the Emperor's own corps, loyal only to him.
The day they took a side, it would mean their death.
The Imperial Consort had not expected to meet the Crown Prince here; a shadow crossed her eyes.
The Third Prince pressed his lips together and offered a beaming salute, rattling off his points without pause.
"Father, those betrothal gifts belong to the suitor's household. Since the marriage didn't happen, returning them is only right and proper.
The Marquis Dingyuan's household has many mouths to feed and great expenses; they've long been struggling. Father, in light of the Marquis's loyal service, please return this sum of betrothal gifts.
The Dingyuan household will be forever grateful..."
He prattled on and on, but the Emperor offered no reply, leaving him puzzled. "Father."
The Emperor cast him a cool glance, then finally spoke, "You are late. All of it has already gone to the state treasury."
Once in the treasury, it becomes state property; it isn't something you can simply claim.
That was the final word.
The Third Prince: ...
Why not say so sooner? Were they making fun of him on purpose? Grrr, is he even his real father?
But he'd guaranteed it to the Marquis Dingyuan, what now?
He instinctively looked to his mother for help; the Consort gave a faint shake of her head, it was settled and irreversible.
The Third Prince felt defeated and shot the Crown Prince a glare, convinced the elder brother had been stirring things up.
The Crown Prince raised an eyebrow, half-smiling; his younger brothers were growing up and getting clever.
...
The Mu family spent the holiday trapped in a cell; every moment was torture.
They ate, drank, and relieved themselves in a cramped space; the latrine reeked so badly it made them sick.
They slept on a layer of straw on the floor. Their meals were coarse millet buns, rock-hard and rough, scraping at their throats and difficult to swallow.
The porridge was watery and tasted of mildew; it was worse than pig swill.
The pampered Mu family couldn't take such hardship; at first they wouldn't touch the food and complained without end.
They were convinced they'd been sabotaged, after all, Old Madam Mu had made a mortal enemy of the jailers.
Some dared not say it aloud, but they all blamed Old Madam Mu in their hearts.
People need food. Go without for a day and you break down: the children cried from hunger; the adults grew dizzy, legs going weak, hearts pounding.
With no other choice, even the pig's food had to be eaten; everyone forced themselves to gulp it down with eyes shut.
After a few days the Mu family looked ill and drawn, a whole lot thinner. Their spirits seemed to have been drained, they looked sickly.
From the adjoining cell came the tempting smell of proper food: gleaming white rice mixed with greasy, savory stew, utterly mouthwatering.
The Mu family stared fixedly, mouths watering.
Before they'd have refused it as too greasy; now they pined for it until they might cry.
Old Madam Mu had not been sleeping or eating well. Her complexion had gone to pieces; the once-plump body wasted away quickly, her face gaunter and ringed with more wrinkles.
Mu Zhongde looked at his precious grandson, drooling, then at his haggard mother. Pressing the pangs in his stomach, he rose and offered a bow to the others.
“Brother, could you spare a bit for my old mother? We don't need much, but she's elderly, if she doesn't eat she'll get sick.”
He was asking for a little food for his grandmother and grandson, and hoping to snag some for himself as well.
The man was burly and rough, all streetwise swagger, his brow knitting in contempt. “What a dream. Why should I care if your old woman gets sick?”
Those gilded, pampered mistresses and masters upstairs didn't know the world's hardships, nor did they think about how hard it is for ordinary folk to get a bite of meat or a bowl of plain rice.
They were all prisoners here, who was more noble than whom? Everyone was the same person; why should these precious rations be handed to you?
Mu Zhongde flushed with shame and anger, but his hunger won out. “Our Mu family will repay a hundredfold in the future, so, ”
“Future?” the man sneered, rolling his eyes. “Once you're in here, don't talk about 'later'. Pray to your ancestors to let you live a few days longer.” He shrugged. “Want to eat? Grease the guards.”
As long as you were willing to pay, the guards would make sure you got three meals.
Mu Zhongde stiffened. His eldest son muttered irritably, “If we had money, would we be groveling like this?”
Everything of value had been searched away; all they were left with was an empty mouth.
The guard was getting impatient. “Then hope your friends and relatives will bring you food. Pay with silver and everything's negotiable.”
He shoveled rice into his mouth with gusto, and under the hungry gazes of the Mu family he managed to eat as if every mouthful were a delicacy.
He had it; others didn't. That was pure bliss!
Mu Jinyao slumped weakly against the wall, her face unnaturally flushed, every part of her aching. “Grandmother, why haven't my eldest and second aunts come?”
Old Madam Mu wanted to ask the same. It had been days, why hadn't her two daughters shown?
Their husbands were wealthy and influential; with a little silver and some pulling of strings they could make their stay in prison a bit more bearable. That couldn't be so hard, could it?
“They'll come. Maybe something's held them up.”
The words sounded hollow; even she didn't really believe them.
Mu Wanqing sat coolly in the corner, watching with detached eyes. Even Qin Hui had a few friends, how had the Mu family fallen so low?
Not only did no one come to visit, there wasn't even someone to bring a single meal.
Or perhaps the Mu family's situation was so serious everyone was afraid to get involved?
Mu Jinyao had been cradled from the moment she was born, silks and fine food, living in the lap of luxury. She had never endured this kind of hardship.
Seeing no hand reach out, no glimmer of hope, she grew more fragile by the minute; her body protested and she winced in pain.
Madam Mu watched her daughter with concern and pressed a hand to her fevered brow. It was burning hot.
She panicked. “She's got a fever. Hurry, fetch a Physician. Guard, please, I'm begging you, get a Physician.”
The guard on duty was the very one Old Madam Mu had offended. Hearing the pleas, he said coldly, “Tough it out. Whether she pulls through is her own fate.”
From birth, Mu Jinyao had borne the weight of the family's expectations, raised to marry well and elevate her in-laws. Now she was seen as the family's only chance to turn things around.
So everyone was frantic, beseeching the guard.
The guard was stone-hearted and refused to budge.
“Third sister has medicine,” the eldest branch's eldest daughter-in-law, Madam Sun, suddenly remembered.
The whole Mu household turned their eyes toward Mu Wanqing.
Madam Mu snapped angrily, “Third girl, if you have medicine, why didn't you say so? Take it out and save her. Even if you're jealous of your eldest sister, you can't stand by and watch her die.”
It was said as if the second branch owed them everything.
Mu Wanqing frowned. It wasn't that she didn't want to help, she had merely waited for them to ask first.
So if anything went wrong, they couldn't pin it on her.
The Mu family wasn't always unreasonable; they simply judged people as they saw fit.
But clearly, in Old Madam Mu's eyes, Mu Wanqing was a convenient target for blame and scorn.
Mu Wanqing was too weary to argue with someone who wouldn't listen; you can't wake the willfully asleep.
“One pill, ten taels of silver.”
The family had grown used to taking from the second branch whenever they pleased. For the sake of future dealings, she would set a rule now.
Old Madam Mu, furious to the point of fainting, protested, “We're family, how can you speak of money…”
Before she could finish, Mu Wanqing cut her off impatiently, “Fine, then don't.”
Eldest Master Mu scolded coldly, “Second brother, control your daughter. Such crassness is not fit for the Mu household, it shames our name.”
Mu Zhongping was a simple, honest man; if you begged him, he was easily swayed.
But he loved his children fiercely. You could criticize him, but criticizing his kids was another matter. “I can't manage her.”
Mu Zifeng, the main branch's direct grandson, was clearly displeased with Mu Wanqing. “Where are we supposed to get the money?”
“Then write an IOU,” Mu Wanqing replied calmly.
“No paper or brush,” Mu Zifeng replied, suspicious and shrewd.
Mu Wanqing ignored him. “Guard, do me a favor.”
The guard was more than willing to help, he took any chance to make things difficult for the Mu main branch.
With no other choice, Eldest Master Mu scrawled an IOU. He intended it only as a formality; he had no plans to repay it.
Mu Wanqing carefully folded the IOU and tucked it away. Then she took a single pill from her box.
“Whether you take it is up to you. If anything happens, don't come blaming me, there's no use.”
She spoke in a laconic tone, but chose the pill with unusual care, hoping it would work and that they would all live.
Neither the original owner nor she had ever harbored jealousy toward Mu Jinyao.
After taking the medicine, Mu Jinyao grew drowsy and lethargic.
“Meal time.” The clatter of the food basin rang out.
This time everyone obediently went to collect their food. No matter how bad it tasted, it was still better than hunger.
Those raised in comfort felt, for the first time in their lives, just how agonizing an empty stomach could be.
Mu Wanqing and her mother also received their portions: each a thin bowl of porridge and two small cornbuns. From the start they'd been given food to eat, they didn't miss a single meal.
Mu Wanqing wasn't in a hurry to eat. She tore a cornbun into pieces and soaked them in the porridge, waiting until it turned to mush before she ate.
Madam Qian imitated her, tearing her cornbun apart. My goodness, it was awful, who knew what it had been made from?
“Wan'er, you've had it rough.”
Mu Wanqing had once been sent by her grandfather to a military camp during a high‑school summer break to toughen her up, teach her to be independent and sharpen her mind. She’d learned plenty of skills there.
But no matter how hard it had been, she’d never eaten anything this awful.
She was easygoing and not demanding about possessions, except when it came to food.
Just endure it.
She put on a sweet smile. “As long as our whole family is together, it won’t feel so bad.”
Madam Qian’s eyes reddened; such a dutiful, sensible daughter.
They were still eating when men from the Wuyi Guards arrived; the jailers hurried forward to flatter them.
The newcomer was someone they knew, Wu Dongming. He glanced around once and everyone from the Mu household changed: their sheen gone, faces gray and worried.
Strangely, his eyes landed immediately on the girl in the corner eating the mush, her complexion wasn’t great either, but she looked composed.
He named someone outright. “Bring Mu Zhongde out for questioning.”
Two Wuyi Guards opened the cell and dragged Mu Zhongde out.
Mu Zhongde’s clothes were rumpled, his beard unkempt, hair matted and grimy, a sour stench clinging to him.
He looked frantic. “Lord Wu, is there anything else you need to ask? I’ll confess to everything honestly.”
Wu Dongming didn’t hurry away; instead he looked toward the crowd. “Third Miss Mu.”
They all turned to Mu Wanqing at once, some of them plainly relishing it.
She’s being taken away too? Ha, serves you right. Arrogant, disrespectful to elders, unfilial, good.
Old Madam Mu’s eyes flashed with malice and cruel satisfaction.
Madam Qian grabbed her daughter’s hand in panic; her face went pale.
Mu Wanqing gently pushed her hand aside and walked over calmly. “Lord Wu, is something the matter?”