Chapter 23: Trouble Begins with the Tail Ladle

As soon as Feng Jinye heard that Wei Spoon Qingyu had been scalded, his anger flared up at once. He shouted, "Who took her to the kitchens!"

Feng Jinye couldn’t explain why he was so furious about Wei Spoon Qingyu going to the kitchens; in his subconscious, she simply wasn’t supposed to go there. He seemed to have forgotten that on the eighth day of the twelfth month, she had gone to the kitchens to cook Laba porridge for him.

Chujiu, anxious for Qingxia, called out, "My lord—"

But before she could finish, Feng Jinye had already vanished, leaving Chujiu to sigh, knowing full well that his master had likely appeared at Zhi Yu Tower by now.

Wei Spoon Qingyu’s right hand was red and swollen from the burn. She’d been cooling it with strong liquor for quite some time. When she saw that it hadn’t blistered and the swelling was going down, she looked at the now-opened bottle in her hand. Not wanting to waste it, she tilted her head back and drank.

Qingxia, alarmed, hurried to stop her, "Miss, you’re still injured. This wine is cold—it’s not good for you to drink it."

"Alright, I won’t. I’ll go back to my room and keep cooling it," Wei Spoon Qingyu replied with a smile, not setting down the wine. She turned and left.

Once out of the kitchen, she took a few more swigs of the cold wine. The chill of the wind made her shiver, but it also cleared her mind a little. She didn’t want to go back to her room and brood, so she headed for the plum grove.

Last night, her mind was tangled with worry, and though she had managed to sort out her thoughts, the restlessness remained.

She was grateful, in a way, that she’d quarreled with Feng Jinye the day before. The argument had been like a timely rain—allowing her to keep her distance from him, at least for a while.

Wei Spoon Qingyu knew Feng Jinye was innocent. No matter what grudges might exist between the previous generation, she would never lay blame on him.

The argument between them had nothing to do with trust or suspicion. She’d quarreled with him simply because he had provoked her anger, and she had lashed back at him a hundredfold.

Besides, whether Feng Jinye’s mother had killed her own mother was still just a suspicion. Without evidence, a suspect remained only a suspect—she couldn’t pass judgment yet.

She also realized that even if Feng Jinye’s mother really had killed her mother, the most she could do was to draw a firm line between herself and Feng Jinye. She couldn’t kill him for revenge.

So her conclusion was to keep her distance, using the quarrel as an excuse for a cold war—ideally, they wouldn’t need to see each other anymore.

Yet, she still needed to investigate her father’s death, which inevitably kept her entangled with Feng Jinye.

She entered the plum grove, picked a tree she liked, leaped up, and lay there among the branches, letting the wind blow over her, enjoying a rare moment of peace.

Everything was drifting further and further from her original reason for returning to Yue Du, from the path she thought she would walk.

Feng Jinye arrived at Zhi Yu Tower but didn’t find Wei Spoon Qingyu there. He headed to the kitchen and found Qingxia cooking noodles. "Where is the Princess Consort?"

Qingxia’s tone was cold, not even willing to use the honorific. "My lady has returned to her room."

Feng Jinye frowned, his handsome brows drawing tight. He’d just come from Zhi Yu Tower and hadn’t seen her—had she run off again?

The thought irritated him. Was his Wang Manor a place she could come and go as she pleased?

But he couldn’t help but ask, "Was the burn serious?"

Qingxia saw his concern and her tone softened a little, "It’s nothing serious."

Seeing his anxiety, she added, "Don’t jump to conclusions, my lord. My lady is not one to wrong herself. She hasn’t had lunch yet, so she must still be in the manor."

Feng Jinye realized she’d seen through him and tried to compose himself. "Why was she cooking noodles?"

"Today is her birthday. With no family to cook for her, she made them herself," Qingxia replied with a bitter edge, clearly blaming him for not cooking noodles for her lady.

Three years ago on her birthday, Wei Spoon Qingyu had told her father that she wanted Feng Jinye to cook her noodles. Qingxia knew well enough that her lady had hoped for this.

Winter Warmth returned from Winter Moon Pavilion and, after circling the manor once, found Wei Spoon Qingyu in the plum grove. "Master, there’s news from Winter Moon Pavilion."

"Let’s hear it," Wei Spoon Qingyu replied, lying on the plum tree with an otherworldly air.

"Winter Moon Pavilion traced the rumor to Lady Lu," Winter Warmth reported. She didn’t believe Lady Lu had started the rumor, but the trail left by the investigation was clear and convincing.

When Wei Spoon Qingyu didn’t respond, Winter Warmth continued, "The rumor is spreading wildly. There are now whispers targeting the Duke’s Manor, saying the legitimate daughter was married, lost her husband, and disfigured herself to pass for the princess consort."

It was all about Lu Yanran, but Wei Spoon Qingyu was unfazed. "It doesn’t sound like Lady Lu at all."

"It must be Luo Yanqing," she said as she rose and jumped from the tree.

She’d always thought Luo Yanqing to be petty. "If our guess on New Year’s Eve was right, she’s the vengeful type. She must still resent the palace banquet, when my aunt helped me. So she’s framing my aunt!"

"The rumor speaks of my aunt’s daughter, which makes no sense. But the very absurdity of it makes it seem all the more like Luo Yanqing’s doing! At the palace banquet, she switched between foolish and clever, played dumb at Zhi Yu Tower, and was decisive at Listening Wind Pavilion—she’s impossible to pin down."

"Then, should we retaliate?" Winter Warmth asked, nodding along to her lady’s reasoning.

"Of course," Wei Spoon Qingyu thought. She couldn’t just stand by and let herself be bullied. It seemed Luo Yanqing’s target wasn’t just Yun Ming, but herself as well.

Could it be that Luo Yanqing’s real interest was Feng Jinye?

Now that she knew of Feng Jinye’s royal connections, she wondered if perhaps Luo Yanqing knew too, and believed he would one day ascend the throne.

"I’m hungry. Let’s go back and eat first," she said, knowing she would have to talk to both Feng Jinye and Yun Ming eventually.

When she returned to Zhi Yu Tower, Feng Jinye was waiting for her outside.

She ignored him and walked in.

He silently followed her inside. Wei Spoon Qingyu sent Winter Warmth to invite Young Master Yun.

She was truly hungry. As soon as she sat, Qingxia brought her noodles. She began to eat, but halfway through, she realized Qingxia’s usual skills had faltered—the egg was overcooked.

After she finished, Yun Ming arrived.

She told the two about the recent rumors, concluding, "Now that Yun Ming is staying in the manor, no one can poison him anymore. But Luo Yanqing’s intentions go beyond him—she seems to be targeting me as well!"

"If she’s planning to come for me, it must be for the position of Princess Consort," Wei Spoon Qingyu speculated. After learning of Feng Jinye’s special status at the Duke’s Manor, she had returned to this initial suspicion.

Seeing Feng Jinye remain silent, she couldn’t help but ask, "Does the Prince of War have any thoughts on this?"

Prince of War? Feng Jinye frowned.

Everyone called him "Prince of War," but for some reason, hearing Wei Spoon Qingyu use that title at this moment greatly displeased him. Perhaps it was because she always called Yun Ming by his given name.

Feng Jinye said nothing. Yun Ming, a little embarrassed, stood to leave. "Perhaps you two should talk."

Wei Spoon Qingyu had no wish to be alone with Feng Jinye. "I have nothing to say to him."

Her words left Feng Jinye stifled and unable to sit still. He rose in anger and left.

"Qingyu, must you do this?" Yun Ming sighed helplessly, then followed him out.

"You—" Yun Ming began, unable to find the right words. "What did you do to offend her so deeply?"

Feng Jinye was crestfallen. He had only asked her to clarify her words, and yet she had been provoked to such anger. She knew of his doubts about her—why did she turn on him so suddenly?

Then it struck him—was it because of Cang Yuan? Could it be that, in his youth, he had done something unforgivable? That day, she had asked about his twelfth and thirteenth years—he was thirteen, she was six.

He remembered the dossier from their wedding day: she had lost her mother at six and a half. Could her mother’s death be linked to Cang Yuan?

Stunned and pale, Feng Jinye hurried back to Zhi Yu Tower.

He caught his breath, then grasped Wei Spoon Qingyu by the shoulders and explained, "When I was twelve, my mother gave me Cang Yuan. Not long after, she was killed. All those years after her death, I never let Cang Yuan out of my sight. If you’ve ever seen anyone else use it, it wasn’t mine!"

He rushed in so abruptly that Wei Spoon Qingyu was startled, staring at him in shock, speechless.

"Tell me—what did you see?" Feng Jinye, almost frenzied, gripped her shoulders even tighter.

Wei Spoon Qingyu had rarely seen him so panicked. Perhaps infected by his anxiety, she replied blankly, "A woman used Cang Yuan to kill my mother and set fire to my family’s home!"

Feng Jinye was utterly shocked, as if his soul had left him. "Wei Spoon—"

Suddenly, he issued a grave warning: "I’ll investigate this myself. You must not mention it to anyone—do you hear?"

Before she could answer, he pulled her into a tight embrace, asking urgently, "Do you understand?"

She nodded numbly, bewildered. The mystery that had troubled her for two days now seemed to have an answer, but Feng Jinye himself seemed off.

Once he saw her nod, he let her go, turned, and returned to his study. There, he slammed his desk twice, and when Night Eleven appeared, ordered furiously, "Luo Yanqing—investigate everything, down to the smallest detail!"

Feng Jinye knew well enough that the Empress Dowager’s true target was Yun Ming; Luo Yanqing’s attack on Wei Spoon Qingyu was a result of that.

After he left, Wei Spoon Qingyu stood there for a long while, thinking. She realized Feng Jinye’s point: the sword the young Wei Spoon Qingyu had seen was not Cang Yuan, but another one almost identical to it.

His reaction was telling—he must have guessed something about the massacre of her family.

Resolving to get answers, she rushed to Listening Wind Pavilion, flinging the door open just as Night Eleven vanished before her eyes.

"What did you send Night Eleven to do?" she demanded, knowing it must be related.

Feng Jinye was suddenly ill at ease, uncertain how to hide things from her.

Seeing his evasive gaze, she pressed him, "Don’t bother lying. You’ve never been any good at it, and you can’t hide anything from me!"

"To investigate Luo Yanqing," he replied helplessly.

Wei Spoon Qingyu immediately understood. "You suspect Luo Yanqing knows who I am! She’s coming after me because I’m Wei Spoon Qingyu, and it’s connected to the tragedy of my family twelve years ago!"

Feng Jinye had always known she was clever, but he hadn’t expected that she could deduce so much from just one of his actions.

"Are you overthinking it? I trust my intuition as a woman—Luo Yanqing is unpredictable, but she’s not someone who can accomplish great things. Her methods are typical of the inner chambers: jealousy, scheming, petty intrigue," Wei Spoon Qingyu said, recalling most of all that slap at the palace banquet.

No truly clever person would act that way. No matter how foolish, useless, or incompetent the Princess Consort of War might be, her status was unassailable. That slap was pure harm with no benefit.

If Luo Yanqing couldn’t even control her own temper, how could she ever achieve anything of consequence?