Chapter 112: My Lord, I Know I Was Wrong

Chapter 112: Husband, I Know I Was Wrong

They gazed at each other, and Jiang Wanrou turned her head to call out, "Someone, warm a pot of baijiu."

Lu Feng paused, then corrected, "Fermented fruit wine."

Jiang Wanrou: "..."

She was a lightweight—even fermented fruit wine could make her tipsy. Baijiu would be too much for her.

The palace maid on night duty naturally obeyed the emperor's command and brought a pot of sweet fermented fruit wine. Jiang Wanrou dismissed the attendants, pushed up her sleeves, and personally poured a full cup for Lu Feng.

Lu Feng tilted his head back and downed it in one gulp. Jiang Wanrou refilled it for him, and after three cups, Lu Feng pressed his thin lips together and remarked, "Bland."

Standing beside him, Jiang Wanrou chuckled. "It’s all sweet wine meant for women—it doesn’t pack a punch. Of course, Your Majesty wouldn’t find it satisfying."

Lu Feng frowned slightly. "What did you call me?"

"Your Maj—"

Then, recalling that he had referred to himself as "I" earlier, she abruptly changed her tone and murmured, "Everyone calls you 'Your Majesty.' If I dared to address you by your full name and others heard, wouldn’t they accuse me of a capital offense? I wouldn’t dare."

Lu Feng seized her hand, his tone inscrutable.

"Always with the clever tricks."

Just as Jiang Wanrou was about to pull her hand away, Lu Feng said in a low voice, "If you're so clever, why did you stick your nose where it doesn’t belong?"

Jiang Wanrou stiffened, lowering her eyes. "You knew."

She hadn’t intended to hide it from Lu Feng, but being caught immediately upon returning from her task left her a little crestfallen.

Lu Feng let out a cold laugh. When he woke in the middle of the night to find her missing from his side, shock and fury had nearly driven him to order the imperial guards to turn the palace upside down. Later, upon learning she had slipped out in secret, he had guessed the truth.

Lu Feng clenched his jaw. No one knew the terror he had felt the moment he realized she was gone. After the incident at the general’s residence, he had treated her like she was made of glass, shielding her layer upon layer, terrified she might come to harm again—yet he couldn’t stop her from running off on her own. Seething with anger and worry, he thought, *If I don’t teach her a lesson now, what will she dare to do next?*

He abruptly yanked her over, pressing her across his lap, and raised his large hand high before bringing it down with a sharp *"Smack!"* on her soft backside, making it wobble.

Even in his greatest anger, Lu Feng couldn’t bring himself to strike hard. Jiang Wanrou barely felt a thing, but as a mother of three—with Huai Yi already six years old!—getting spanked at her age made her face burn crimson, whether out of shame or fury.

"Lu Feng, you jerk!"

She no longer addressed him as "Your Majesty," shrieking instead, "Who was I trying to help here? You heartless—*Ah!*"

Lu Feng increased the force, delivering another smack. "Still talking back?"

That doubled the offense!

This time, it truly hurt. Though Lu Feng hadn’t used his full strength, his arm was powerful, and her tender backside couldn’t take it. With tears in her eyes, she gave in. "Stop... I was wrong."

"Husband, I know I was wrong."

Her tone was so sweet it could soften stone, but Lu Feng, ever the hardass, remained unmoved. "What exactly were you wrong about?"

Jiang Wanrou sulked. *What was I wrong about?* She was wrong for caring about him!

Hesitantly, she mumbled, "Your wife shouldn’t have gone to see Mother-in-law behind your back, but I—"

"Smack—"

The man above gritted his teeth, "Try again!"

It hurt!

Even a clay doll has its limits, let alone Jiang Wanrou, whose disposition had grown more willful over the years, unable to tolerate the slightest grievance. Unable to bear it, she kicked and struggled, overturning the blue-and-white porcelain cup on the table with a loud "crash," scattering shards across the floor.

A moment of silence followed. Jiang Wanrou struggled to rise, but Lu Feng tightened his grip around her waist and murmured, "Don’t move."

He kicked the broken shards aside one by one, then shifted his posture, pulling her to sit across his lap. They stared at each other, silent.

After a while, Jiang Wanrou muttered, "It hurts."

Lu Feng lowered his gaze, "Where does it hurt?"

Her newly changed shoes and socks were spotless, untouched by dust—except for one embroidered slipper that had been kicked off in her earlier struggle, leaving the sheer silk stocking half-dangling from her foot, paler than fresh snow.

Jiang Wanrou mumbled, "There... it hurts."

Lu Feng paused, his tone slightly helpless, "I didn’t use much force."

She shot him a dark glare, "You wanted to go harder?"

Lu Feng: "..."

He sighed and reached out, "Let me rub it for you."

Jiang Wanrou paled in shock, "We're still in mourning!"

A vein pulsed at Lu Feng’s forehead as he ground his teeth, "Quit imagining things."

Every backrub he’d given her before ended up in bed—so she couldn’t be blamed for assuming.

This time, however, Lu Feng remained proper. After a while, he suddenly said, "Never again. You’re not leaving!"

What had enraged him wasn’t her sneaking off to see his mother or meddling in state affairs—it was waking in the middle of the night to find her gone. In that moment, his ears rang, his chest heaved, and his vision turned red.

At first, Jiang Wanrou didn’t understand. But when he mentioned the incident at the general’s residence, she realized the source of his fury.

So they’d been talking past each other all along!

Feeling wronged, she snapped, "Where the hell would I go, huh? You keep telling me not to overthink, yet here you are—the emperor himself—more paranoid than I am!"

The whole damn country is yours, and I’m meant to enjoy the good life with you. Only a madwoman would leave! She almost laughed at the ridiculousness, easing her lingering irritation.

She confessed, "Your mother... she’s gone."

He said flatly, "I know."

Once he knew where she’d gone, he had already guessed the outcome.

Gazing at her slightly reddened eyes, he said, "Don’t beat yourself up. She’d made up her mind to die."

He meant: It wasn’t on you.

This was the best outcome, and Lu Feng understood it—he just didn’t want to face it. He never expected that his seemingly fragile wife would be the one to take the fall for him.

He had always despised men who hid behind women, considering them the most spineless of all. But when Jiang Wanrou shielded him—first by pleading with his father, and now—he felt a strange feeling.

Lu Feng caressed her cheek. "I won’t let it happen again."

He wouldn’t make her worry for him anymore.

This time, Jiang Wanrou caught his drift and chided, "That’s what marriage is—supporting each other. Why keep tabs on who does what?"

If she had only sucked up to him, only stepping forward when he was triumphant, she would never have earned his love and respect. Lu Feng was a man who knew what was what. Just as when she first married into the household, she had walked on eggshells as the Duchess. Even though Lu Feng hadn’t loved her then, he had still given her the dignity she deserved.

At this moment, Jiang Wanrou suddenly recalled an old incident. She bit her lip, hesitated for a long while before speaking slowly, "Husband, I have a secret to tell you. You promise not to get mad?"

Lu Feng sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Alright, out with it."

Jiang Wanrou mumbled, barely above a whisper. "Actually… back then, that bowl of abortion potion… it wasn’t Mother who made me drink it. I drank it myself."

That was all in the past, all grievances settled. She didn’t have to walk on eggshells anymore, so she laid it bare—to clear the old lady’s name.

She had expected such a revelation to at least leave Lu Feng stunned, even if he didn’t blame her. Yet, after hearing it, his expression remained unchanged as he uttered a single word.

"Yeah."

Jiang Wanrou stared at him intently, waiting for more. But after a long silence, Lu Feng, noticing her wide-eyed gaze, asked in confusion, "Is there something else?"

Jiang Wanrou’s stomach dropped. "You… don’t have anything to say?"

After a pause, Lu Feng replied, "That was a pretty lame trick."

Jiang Wanrou gasped. "Did you know even back then?"

Lu Feng nodded. "And so did Father."

Truthfully, it wasn’t that Jiang Wanrou’s scheme had been poorly executed—it was simply that the Dowager Duchess would never resort to dirty tricks. Lu Qingling’s birth mother had been a maid in the Dowager Duchess’s courtyard. In those years, she and the Duke of Lu were like strangers. One maid, seeing an opportunity, had slipped into the Duke’s bed while he was drunk. Furious, the Duke had wanted the maid beaten to death, but the Dowager Duchess stopped him.

"She’s still a human being," she had said.

The maid was unlucky—she conceived Lu Qingling from that single encounter but died in childbirth. The Dowager Duchess treated Lu Qingling no differently, never held the girl’s birth against her. She had simply suffered too much in her heart—but she was not a wicked woman.

Jiang Wanrou, still confused, asked, "If you both knew… why was Mother confined to the prayer hall?"

She had always believed it was her own false accusation that caused it.

Lu Feng said, "You really went through hell."

The abortion potion had been a lie, but the mistreatment was real. Late one night, the Duke of Lu had summoned him to the courtyard, his resolute face weary.

He had spoken only two sentences.

"Your wife has endured much. Comfort her properly later."

"Su’e… she isn’t that kind of person."

After the Dowager Duchess was confined to the prayer hall, full control of the household was handed to Jiang Wanrou. Even Lu Feng began returning more often, checking in on the household.

...

"So that’s what happened."

Jiang Wanrou looked dazed as she turned to Lu Feng, "All these years, why didn't you tell me?"

Lu Feng raised an eyebrow, "How could I?"

Could he say that he knew she had framed her mother-in-law? With her timid nature, like a mouse, she would have been terrified.

Jiang Wanrou choked on her words. After a long pause, she murmured, "Back then... did you think I was a bad woman?"

Her mother had told her that men preferred kind and gentle women, which was the persona she had always maintained.

Lu Feng replied indifferently, "A bit of cunning isn’t necessarily bad."

It was precisely because of this that he felt at ease entrusting the household to her. She served him devotedly, bore his children, and raised them well—to him, that made her a good wife.

The rest were trivial matters. Even if she had committed murder or arson, he would have covered up the evidence for her, let alone a few harmless schemes.

She thought: You can’t have your cake and eat it too. Lost in her jumbled thoughts, exhausted from the night, she drifted into sleep in his familiar embrace.

On the seventh day of mourning for the late emperor, Zhao Sue took her own life out of guilt. The courtiers wept bitterly as the founding hero of the empire passed into history. The records would later state: *The emperor inherited a world in chaos, quelled rebellions on all sides, and through diligent governance, ushered in an era of prosperity. His death brought grief to heaven and earth, with the court and commoners alike mourning. The new emperor personally led the officials in escorting the coffin to the imperial mausoleum, with grand processions and solemn music, honoring him with the utmost posthumous glory.*

With Zhao Sue’s death, Lu Feng dealt leniently with the Duke of Lu’s household. Citing the duke’s illustrious military achievements, he merely revoked their ironclad patent of nobility, demoted the dukedom to a barony, and barred them from holding office for ten years.

***

Anyone with eyes could see this was the emperor’s way of avoiding harsh punishment. As long as one held the emperor’s favor, what difference did a dukedom or barony make? As for the ten-year ban from office—it was almost laughable. The two young masters of the Lu family weren’t cut out for officialdom anyway, being untitled nobles by birth. The family’s future lay with the next generation, and ten years was just enough time for them to grow.

Those who had hoped to push the Lu family out of the capital’s elite circles gnashed their teeth in frustration. They submitted memorials protesting the decision, but Lu Feng didn’t even glance at them before tossing them aside. Still seething, they turned their attention to Zhao Sue’s remains, demanding she be posthumously flogged and her bones scattered.

Before Lu Feng could respond, Marquis Chen erupted in fury, denouncing them as treacherous for daring to question the emperor’s decree. The morning audience nearly turned into a battlefield before the matter was dropped.

Marquis Chen was one of the few remaining veterans who had fought alongside the late emperor to establish the dynasty. A humble and reserved man, he was secretly summoned by Lu Feng and entrusted with the task of escorting the late emperor’s body. The old marquis wept bitterly and kowtowed deeply, vowing, "This old servant will not fail in his duty!"

As for Zhao Sue’s remains, she had left instructions to "bury me far away," refusing to enter the Lu family ancestral tomb. Jiang Wanrou found her a scenic burial site in the outskirts of the capital, nestled between mountains and water, where peach blossoms bloomed abundantly in spring—a truly beautiful place.

...

The dead were buried, but the living had to carry on. As emperor and empress, Lu Feng and Jiang Wanrou observed a three-month mourning period, counting months as years, which concluded just as winter ended.

It wasn’t too difficult to endure. Between handling the late emperor’s funeral, the enthronement ceremony, the empress installation ceremony, resolving old court matters, appointing and dismissing officials, stabilizing the government, and conducting ancestral rites... Lu Feng was far busier than he had been as the Prince of Qi. Jiang Wanrou was no less occupied. The late emperor’s sudden passing had left instructions regarding his heirs and concerns for his brothers—but made no provisions for his consorts. As sovereign of the inner chambers, she had to endure their incessant wailing, which gave her a headache.

There was no precedent for dealing with the late emperor’s consorts, as the Imperial Ancestor was a founding emperor. Sending them to guard the imperial mausoleum seemed too harsh, but letting them stay in the palace... The old emperor had a sharp eye for beauty, and his consorts were all peerless beauties. Jiang Wanrou wasn’t keen on the idea.

Moreover, there were still fifteen tribal beauties in the Prince of Qi’s residence. With Lu Feng's ascension, they waited day and night, hoping the emperor would finish mourning and elevate them to concubine ranks!