Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Upon hearing this, Mrs. Ming’s hand, holding the teacup, trembled slightly, causing the lid to clink against the rim and emit a soft sound in the quiet room.

Regaining her composure, she asked, “How did you respond, my lord?”

Vice Minister Ming stroked his beard. “When You Niang first sought a divorce, I anticipated something like this might happen and had our eldest son draft a defensive memorial in advance. Though the content of the impeachment differs from what I initially expected, it can still be adapted. I submitted it today.”

Mrs. Ming let out a sigh of relief, thinking: *Since preparations had been made, there was likely nothing to worry about.*

Yet Vice Minister Ming added, “Divorce is permitted by law, so no one can claim our family acted wrongly. However, since the accuser made it about public morals, it’s no longer a simple matter of right or wrong. The extent of its impact on social customs ultimately depends on His Majesty’s judgment.”

The current emperor, a man accomplished in both civil and military affairs, remained sharp-minded despite being over fifty, showing no signs of aging.

As officials, they feared two things: first, an utterly foolish emperor whose reckless actions could doom the dynasty; second, an overly brilliant emperor, whose keen insight made governance feel like having a mountain on one’s shoulders—pressured and constrained.

Vice Minister Ming harbored no schemes, but under such a sovereign, he could only wait obediently for the emperor’s verdict.

Mrs. Ming seethed. “They ought to be executed! What business is it of theirs if we bring our daughter home? Truly busybodies with nothing better to do!”

Vice Minister Ming glanced out the window, his expression uneasy. “This might actually be because of me. A few days ago, I argued with someone in court. His Majesty sided with me and reprimanded the other party. The impeachment memorial today was written by that very man.”

He had prepared the defense memorial expecting censure from the censors, but none had stirred recently. Instead, an unrelated figure had emerged, raising unexpected criticisms.

Mrs. Ming paused—this was truly…

“My lord, don’t dwell on it. It may not be for that reason.” She found it hard to believe someone would impeach over a mere dispute.

Vice Minister Ming coughed lightly, shifting the topic. “And you? Earlier, you seemed troubled. Did something happen?”

“Nothing major,” Mrs. Ming replied, calming herself. “Someone from the Chen family came to inform us that Chen Wenyao is planning to remarry—this time, seeking the daughter of the Bai family from the Singing Crane Academy.”

Vice Minister Ming showed no surprise. “Chen Wenyao was always single-mindedly focused on imperial examination studies—even horsemanship was something I forced him to learn. The Chen family lacks influence, and his mother’s family can’t help him, so he must rely on his wife’s family. Now that he’s lost that, he naturally seeks another advantageous match.” After a pause, he mused, “Though, he doesn’t seem the type to consider the Bai family.”

Despite their scholarly prestige, the Bai family held no significant position in court—hardly an ideal match in Chen Wenyao’s eyes. His most valuable asset now was his marriage prospects, so he would weigh his options carefully.

“Still calling him Chen Wenyao?” Mrs. Ming gave an exasperated look. She considered it restraint enough not to demand the Chen family compensate for the resources the Ming family had invested in him over the years. Her husband, it seemed, was even more forgiving.

She pushed at his arm. “Tell me, if I were to interfere and ruin this match, would there be any repercussions?”

“No need for that,” Vice Minister Ming replied, his voice lowering slightly. “It’s best our family severs all ties with the Chens.”

He glanced at her and whispered, “He’s become too close to a certain prince.”

When You Niang first returned home seeking a divorce, Vice Minister Ming had hesitated—not just over the decision, but also because Chen Wenyao’s actions, taking in a concubine without consulting his wife’s family, seemed suspicious. Though he wouldn’t claim exceptional discernment, having watched Chen Wenyao grow up, he knew the man would never risk alienating his political patrons before securing his position.

Some discreet inquiries revealed signs of Chen Wenyao’s dealings with a prince. Though the evidence was limited, it was enough to raise alarms.

Chen Wenyao had been Vice Minister Ming’s student and protégé, even given his beloved daughter in marriage to him. If this came to light, who would believe Vice Minister Ming hadn’t orchestrated it?

Currently, the six ministries of the Great Xia Dynasty were overseen by Grand Councilors who seldom involved themselves in daily affairs. As Left Vice Minister of Rites, Vice Minister Ming effectively functioned as the de facto Minister, making him a prominent figure in court.

Throughout history, emperors most feared close ties between high-ranking officials and princes—especially when the ruler aged while his sons were in their prime. This discovery tipped Vice Minister Ming’s wavering scales, leading him to immediately consent to the divorce.

Now that You Niang and the Chen family were officially divorced, the Ming and Chen families appeared completely cut ties in the public eye. It was best to keep their distance henceforth.

This was the first Mrs. Ming had heard of it. She became serious. “I understand the gravity.” Then, studying her husband, she remarked, “So that’s why you agreed so readily.”

No wonder her prepared arguments had gone unused—her husband had agreed without argument.

Vice Minister Ming stroked his beard. “Even without this, I would have agreed—perhaps after a few more days of deliberation. Must you be so harsh, my lady?”

The matter was settled, and rehashing old decisions was pointless. Mrs. Ming knew he spoke the truth. Even without the prince’s involvement, her husband’s love for You Niang would have seen her freed. She nodded and shifted topics. “I should speak to You Niang.”

If the Chen family had sent word to their household, You Niang, having spent three years with them, might already know. Given her husband’s warning to avoid the Chens, she needed to warn her daughter.

After all, if she wished to act, she’d need a plan—but if You Niang intervened, leveraging her three years of experience in the Chen household, she could effortlessly ruin their plans.

When her mother arrived, Ming Tang was distributing blessing charms to the maids.

Her close relatives had already received theirs, leaving many extras. Ming Tang kept a few talismans for prosperity, hanging them by her bed for luck, while Zhe Liu and Wen He handed out the rest to the servants.

The blessing charms from Qixia Temple were highly regarded. In the short walk to Ming Tang’s quarters, Mrs. Ming passed four or five maids clutching theirs, all smiles.

After explaining her purpose, Mrs. Ming was surprised when Ming Tang not only swore to stay away from the Chen family’s affairs but also said their household would be in chaos anyway.

Seeing her mother off, Ming Tang glanced toward the Chen residence.

That household had a mother-in-law desperate for a new daughter-in-law and a young master in need of influential in-laws—but it also housed a fragile, expecting concubine who stayed by the matriarch’s side day and night.

The informant must have been sent by that very concubine, Ya Yun.

If Ya Yun was clever enough to seek Ming Tang’s aid, surely she’d anticipated refusal. The question was—how would Ya Yun respond now?

*

In the Chen family’s main courtyard, Chen Wenyao was discussing the matter with his mother.

Perhaps spurred by his daytime encounter with a visibly content Ming Tang, he was eager to secure a new wife.

“Mother, have you sent someone to approach the Bai family?”

Madam Chen said with displeasure. “It seems unlikely. The matchmaker came back saying the Bais were reluctant.”

Chen Wenyao frowned. “Why?”

Earlier, a Bai family member—a Hanlin Scholar—had shown interest. After careful consideration, he’d decided they were suitable and instructed his mother to send a matchmaker.

“The matchmaker said Madam Bai asked only one question: since there’s already a pregnant concubine in the household, how would she be handled if a new bride entered?” Madam Chen said dismissively. “What’s there to handle? Once the child is born, she’ll live with the couple. They can deal with her as they see fit.”

Wasn’t that how all wives and concubines coexisted? Only her former daughter-in-law had been so stubborn, divorcing at a whim.

Chen Wenyao’s brow furrowed—this was the Bai family’s way of demanding he dispose of Ya Yun’s unborn child!

Their audacity to meddle before the marriage was settled irked him, but he quickly began weighing the pros and cons.

Madam Chen prattled on. “We must find a gentle-tempered bride. A stubborn one is unbearable.” Almost regretfully, she added, “If only Ya Yun came from a good family. She’s pretty, obedient, and fertile.”

Having lived together awhile, Ya Yun’s obedient manner—and the fact she’d conceived after just one encounter—had made her dear to Madam Chen.

Chen Wenyao noted his mother’s shift in attitude, growing curious about the concubine he remembered as gentle and yielding. His mother had remained indifferent to You Niang throughout their three-year marriage yet taken such a liking to Ya Yun—she must have exceptional qualities.

With that thought, he stood. “I’ll go see Ya Yun.”

Stepping onto the veranda, he saw warm candlelight glowing through the east chamber’s window, casting a slender silhouette.

Entering, he found Ya Yun reclining on a daybed by the window, calmly embroidering. At his arrival, she looked up, her eyes lighting up before she set aside her hoop and made to get up.

Her movements were awkward. Chen Wenyao waved her back, standing beside her. “What are you working on?”

Ya Yun blushed. “This concubine wishes to embroider a blessing charm to offer at the temple, praying for our child’s safety.”

She had always possessed a fragile, delicate look, but now, with her pregnancy, her face had grown fuller, and the candlelight bathed her in a soft maternal radiance. Chen Wenyao thought of how she had entered the Chen household with joy, only to immediately bear the reputation of driving the mistress to divorce. Yet, she remained so calm now, which stirred a rare sense of pity in him.

The thought that had been weighing on him now began shifting decisively.

"I’ve heard that pregnant women shouldn’t handle needlework. Why don’t you have your maids do the embroidery for you?"

Ya Yun was taken aback. "I didn’t know there were such taboos." Then, flustered, she asked, "What should I do? Will it harm the child?"

Her eyes grew increasingly anxious as she spoke. "It’s all my greed—I wasn’t satisfied with the Buddha-blessed curtain from the mistress and wanted even more. Now I’ve violated such a taboo."