Chapter 31: One Praise, One Criticism

As the crowd dispersed, Feng Jinye strode briskly to Weishao Qingyu, pulled off his cloak, and wrapped her tightly in it.

Weishao Qingyu was indeed cold; as soon as the case concluded, she couldn’t help but shiver. Feng Jinye’s cloak still carried his lingering warmth, and immediately she felt comfort.

Yet she hadn’t forgotten the events at Tingfeng Pavilion that morning. Turning her head away, she ignored Feng Jinye, fastened the cloak, and headed straight for the carriage.

Feng Jinye was frustrated. He had arranged everything meticulously—Night Eleven to protect Xue Chun, a lawyer, and even the constables who originally escorted Xue Chun were selected by him. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have removed the rag that stuffed Xue Chun’s mouth from the start.

His plans were flawless, yet his efforts went unappreciated. Weishao Qingyu refused even the lawyer he arranged, insisting on handling matters personally, freezing herself in the process.

What irked Feng Jinye most was remembering Cold Order’s warning on the day the poison was cured: Weishao Qingyu mustn’t be exposed to cold. Yet she insisted on wearing her traveling attire and didn’t even bother with a cloak.

Watching her shiver, his anger surged in waves, but he restrained himself, knowing she was sulking.

Upon entering the carriage, Weishao Qingyu saw the ready brazier, hot tea, and pastries.

She knew that on the coldest days, Feng Jinye rode alone on horseback, so everything in the carriage was prepared for her.

She exhaled, feeling she was too petty, always finding fault with him, always at odds—yet she only wanted to be with him.

She understood Feng Jinye’s arrangements were sound, but the sight of Yinghong’s attempted suicide struck her deeply. She couldn’t help but wonder: if today’s events had failed, what would have become of Xue Chun?

She also knew that in this era, people were ranked by class, and perhaps in Feng Jinye’s eyes, Xue Chun’s life was insignificant.

Feng Jinye soon stepped into the carriage. Seeing Weishao Qingyu with her eyes closed, feigning sleep, he moved quietly and sat in silence.

With the brazier burning and her cloak securely wrapped, warmth enveloped her. Rising early, the slow-moving carriage lulled Weishao Qingyu into drowsiness. Lacking a pillow, she shamelessly used Feng Jinye’s arm and drifted off.

All of Feng Jinye’s displeasure melted away. Though he didn’t know why she was angry, she always found ways to soften his heart.

Just as she had sparred with him in the maple woods, today she clung to his arm.

Looking at her, her face seemed to declare, “A little fairy has annoyed you, but you can’t possibly be angry with her!”

Unable to resist, Feng Jinye cradled her in his arms, letting her rest on his elbow as she slept. Her adorable pretense of sleep made him reach out and gently tap her nose.

Behind the carriage, the magistrate’s office had returned to tranquility. The Lady of Dingyuan Marquis and Luo Yanqing exited the inner hall, discreetly boarding an inconspicuous carriage at the rear gate.

Throughout the journey, mother and daughter wore gloomy expressions, saying nothing. Finally, Luo Yanqing burst out angrily, “Blame that useless Yinghong! She couldn’t even out-argue that stupid Xue Chun!”

Luo Yanqing was burning inside, unable to calm herself. Now, not only did her talents pale before Weishao Qingyu, her good deeds did too, and even her maidservants lost out. In every way, she was inferior to Weishao Qingyu!

The Lady of Dingyuan Marquis was also furious that day. Luo Yanqing’s words made her an immediate target for venting!

With a sharp slap, the Lady scolded, “And you dare to speak! Are you not equally useless? If your elder sister were here, would you have been bullied like this?”

Having endured her mother’s anger all day, Luo Yanqing, slapped, grew even more irate and retorted, “How is this my fault? Clearly you agreed, using the magistrate’s office to catch and punish her!”

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When Xue Chun made trouble at the magistrate’s office, Luo Yanqing thought it would be simple. The Lady of Dingyuan Marquis claimed she could handle the officials, ensuring Xue Chun wouldn’t even get a chance to speak, would be convicted at once, and thrown into prison for severe punishment.

Luo Yanqing was impatient and harbored bitter hatred for Xue Chun and Weishao Qingyu, seizing any chance for revenge. Encouraged by her mother, she decided to gamble everything on this.

Both mother and daughter had assumed Xue Chun aimed to ruin Luo Yanqing’s reputation, never expecting matters to escalate so far.

Not only was Luo Yanqing’s reputation destroyed, the Dingyuan Marquis household’s name was tarnished, and its marriage alliance with the Western Marquis would become a laughingstock. All these mishaps only highlighted the valor of the Weishao family, with its three heroic martyrs.

What frustrated Luo Yanqing most was how the carefully cultivated image collapsed instantly: her former humility now appeared hypocritical; her supposed benevolence, mere pretense; even her destiny as a phoenix now seemed a curse to husband and family.

The only thing she had ever admitted, “I am neither as talented nor as beautiful as Weishao Qingyu,” had become a painful truth—humiliating and ironic.

The carriage from the Prince of War’s residence arrived at its gates. Weishao Qingyu was truly asleep. Feng Jinye’s lips curved into a handsome smile, tightening her cloak, carrying her straight to Tingfeng Pavilion.

When he was about to set her down, Weishao Qingyu slowly opened her eyes and murmured coquettishly, “I want to go back to Zhiyu Pavilion to remove my makeup.”

Feng Jinye knew she’d woken upon leaving the carriage. Hearing her speak, he was about to let her down, but her gentle, spring-water voice pleaded, “Carry me back, it’s warmer that way!”

Her drowsy eyes gazed at his as she mumbled, “It’s very cold outside…”

Feng Jinye’s smile grew wider, unable to suppress a soft laugh, “You used this prince’s arm as your pillow?”

Weishao Qingyu nodded thoughtfully, then shook her head, “It’s you who believe your arm is my pillow!”

Laughter filled Feng Jinye’s starry eyes, his heart softened like water. Without refuting her, he carried Weishao Qingyu toward Zhiyu Pavilion.

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In the taverns and tea houses of Yue City, the common folk buzzed with excitement, discussing the Weishao family’s three heroic martyrs.

“Weishao General’s daughters are worthy of his legacy—his eldest is as capable as any man!”

“The young lady of Weishao General’s household is beautiful and kind!”

“That’s right! She not only adopted dozens of orphans, but teaches them that since she helped them, they must help others in turn!”

“They say that when Prince of War campaigned against the Western Yan Kingdom, nearly a tenth of his provisions were purchased by the soon-to-be Princess Weishao!”

Dongnuan sat on the second floor of Mingke Residence, listening to the lively chatter, admiring her mistress. As her mistress had predicted, not a soul spoke of the rumors from two years prior.

Yet this was not enough. Dongnuan’s sly smile lingered; letting the brothers from Dongyue Pavilion show themselves from time to time was no bad thing.

Soon, someone in the tea house whispered, “Do you think that lady’s reputation is still intact?”

“They say her hands and feet were bound, left in a ruined temple. What could have happened, must have happened!”

“Alas, she seemed so decent before, but now, think about it—over three hundred days a year, giving Laba porridge once won’t save those who are starving!”

“Unlike the Weishao General’s daughter, who rescued dozens of children in a single act!”

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These words exposed Luo Yanqing’s years of porridge charity as mere self-promotion, helping no one.

“We all used to say she was born under the phoenix star. The people of Yue City saw her as virtuous, destined to be a phoenix!”

“Who would have thought she’s so callous, quick to accuse others falsely. On Laba day, I looked closely—she wore Rain Butterfly jewelry, but not the plum blossom motif!”

Seeing the moment was ripe, Dongnuan beckoned another brother from Dongyue Pavilion and chatted, “Didn’t they say she’s cursed to bring misfortune to husband and family?”

“If she was truly born a phoenix, and became empress, would she bring disaster to the emperor? To Liyue?”

At these words, the crowd was stunned. In an instant, the group scattered in panic.

The thought had lingered in their minds, but such words were too dangerous for anyone to dare utter.

Weishao Qingyu’s performance was a masterstroke: clearing the Weishao family’s name, avenging Luo Yanqing, sowing discord between the Western Marquis and Dingyuan Marquis houses, even between the Empress Dowager and Dingyuan Marquis, and paving the way for Yun Ming. It might even disrupt the plans linking the Empress Dowager, Western Marquis, and Dingyuan Marquis.

With Dongyue Pavilion’s efforts, the rumor now evolved into a version capable of making Luo Yanqing spit blood. Whenever someone praised Weishao Qingyu, another would appear to disparage Luo Yanqing by comparison.

Since that day Xue Chun caused a scene in court, she had followed them back to the Prince of War’s residence.

Outside Zhiyu Pavilion, in the cool gazebo, Weishao Qingyu listened leisurely to Dongnuan recounting the latest rumors. Xue Chun came over nervously.

For days, Xue Chun had felt her mistress was distant. Today, after asking Qingxia, she learned her mistress was upset because Xue Chun followed the Prince’s instructions, and that it had caused friction between her mistress and the Prince.

The more Xue Chun thought about it, the more uneasy she felt. She wasn’t clever, but understood Weishao Qingyu well enough: if her mistress was angry with both, why hadn’t she punished her?

Today, Xue Chun heard disastrous news: “Wanelai Xue has been sold!”

For someone like Xue Chun, who prized money above all, the sale of Wanelai Xue was a calamity.

She pleaded miserably with Weishao Qingyu, “Miss, hit me, punish me, let’s buy Wanelai Xue back, please?”

Weishao Qingyu chuckled, her smile feigned, and replied coolly, “You’ve already been punished! Selling Wanelai Xue was your penalty!”

Hearing this, Xue Chun abandoned her secret hope to buy back Wanelai Xue. If she refused punishment, she’d be sent to the Prince’s dark guard camp—or worse, expelled!

“Sigh!” Xue Chun let out a heavy sigh, heart aching as she watched her precious silver vanish before her eyes.

Weishao Qingyu didn’t tell Xue Chun that Wanelai Xue had been sold to Mingke Residence across the street, which belonged to Yun Ming.

Selling Wanelai Xue was to spare her from Dingyuan Marquis House’s revenge, and Yun Ming was the safest buyer.

After all, Dingyuan Marquis House would not dare to provoke the Western Marquis House with another scandal.