Chapter 13 Invitation Must attend.

Chapter 13: The Invitation: Attendance Is Mandatory

The Marquis of Yong’an’s ancestors were founding dynasty meritorious officials. Over thirty years ago, witnessing the raids on three princely and marquial households, the former Marquis realized the late Emperor intended to rein in the descendants of these meritorious officials. After careful deliberation, he severed all complex marital alliances and ties with clan members tainted by corruption, enforcing stricter discipline throughout the household—making every member more circumspect in speech and conduct.

The former Marquis had two sons. The younger died young of illness. The elder, coinciding with the late Emperor’s crackdown on meritorious officials’ descendants, was kept under tight restraint by his father. Suppressed for too long, he grew indifferent to worldly affairs. After his first wife passed away, he withdrew to a Taoist temple outside the capital to pursue spiritual cultivation—and had not returned to the Marquis’s residence for many years.

Thus, within the Marquis of Yong’an’s residence, only the Dowager Marchioness Xie and her grandson, Xie Chi, remained.

Since youth, Xie Chi frequently traveled under the pretext of scholarly pursuits, spending scarcely any days each year in the capital. Consequently, the Dowager Marchioness Xie became the de facto head of the Marquis’s household.

An elderly woman could do only so much—and the Emperor not only refrained from targeting her but even extended special favors.

In short, over the years, the Dowager Marchioness Xie lived in luxury and was treated everywhere as a revered matriarch.

She was happy to go along with it, occasionally feigning unreasonable behavior to afford the Emperor opportunities to demonstrate his care and indulgence toward veteran ministers.

Everyone was content—until Xie Chi came of age, reigniting the Emperor’s suspicions. A few years earlier, before personally leading a military campaign, the Emperor specifically ordered Xie Chi to accompany him.

Xie Chi successfully passed that test. He rose to become a favored minister, and the Marquis of Yong’an’s residence regained its former glory. Yet the Dowager Marchioness Xie, long accustomed to her quiet life, was reluctant to change.

She stayed out of Xie Chi’s affairs—except where his marriage was concerned.

“Whose daughter’s letter is this?”

Xie Chi knew she’d misunderstood. Rather than clarify, he answered directly: “Zhong Yao—the daughter of Armaments Commissioner Zhong Huaizhi.”

As expected, the Dowager Marchioness Xie instantly flew into a rage: “I absolutely forbid it!”

Xie Chi remained expressionless and asked, “Why not?”

“Why do you think? Her family—” The Dowager Marchioness Xie seethed, then softened her tone slightly, remembering Xie Chi had only recently returned to the capital and might be unaware of the incident a month prior.

She sat down, leaning on the table, and said, “At Old Lady Zhao’s birthday banquet, her mother deliberately splashed wine on me for no reason. Then she put on an innocent, anxious look and flatly denied it—as if *I* were bullying her with my status…”

All these years—even in the palace—the Dowager Marchioness Xie had been respected by the Empress. Whether genuine or performative, it was true she’d suffered no grievances.

It had been decades since she’d encountered such despicable, revolting tactics. Even recalling it now still enraged her.

“The mother is vulgar and ill-mannered; her daughter is no better. What respectable young lady, before even marrying, dares demand her groom swear never to side with his mother or grandmother over her? If she behaves so brazenly *before* entering the household, how will she treat her mother-in-law *after* marriage? No wonder her engagement was broken off!”

With Xie Chi’s mother deceased, the Dowager Marchioness Xie would serve as both grandmother and mother-in-law to his future wife—and she could not tolerate such an unfilial granddaughter-in-law.

“This kind of troublemaker will *never* set foot in this household!”

“Fine.”

“Even if it’s *not* fine, it *must* be! If you insist on marrying her—” The Dowager Marchioness Xie was passionately delivering harsh words when she suddenly recalled Xie Chi had just said, “Fine.” She paused, eyeing him suspiciously.

“What did you say?”

Xie Chi’s gaze remained fixed on the official document in his hand. Hearing his grandmother’s question, he looked up and replied crisply: “Fine—I won’t marry her.”

His concession came too easily. The Dowager Marchioness Xie was momentarily speechless. After a pause, she brandished the simple letter she’d picked up earlier and demanded, “Then what *is* this about?”

Xie Chi replied, “If you wish to involve yourself in court affairs, I’ll tell you the truth. If not, just assume I’m captivated by her looks—and am toying with a young lady’s affections to help you get even. Does *that* make you feel better?”

At her age, the Dowager Marchioness Xie only wished to live out her remaining years in peace—she had no desire to fret over court matters.

She wanted to believe the latter—but Xie Chi’s words were too cutting. What proper grandmother would feel *better* because her grandson was toying with a young lady’s affections?

Though she knew Xie Chi would never actually do such a thing.

He’d never had any close female companions. Had he not possessed such a sharp temper, impatience, and penchant for pretense, the Dowager Marchioness Xie might have suspected this grandson—like his father—had severed all earthly ties and intended to renounce the world.

She could find no reply to Xie Chi’s words. She thought of the ill-mannered Madam Zhong, recalled rumors about the spoiled, willful Miss Zhong whose engagement had been broken off—and then considered the sudden appearance of this “granddaughter”…

Finally, the Dowager Marchioness Xie glared at Xie Chi, clutched her chest like an elderly character from storybooks, cursed a few times about “unfilial descendants,” flung down the letter, feigned unsteadiness, and called for attendants to help her leave.

The letter fluttered down beside Xie Chi. He picked it up, glanced again at that line of small characters, snorted coldly—and resumed handling official business.

Meanwhile, Zhong Yao—completely unaware of the exchange between the Marquis of Yong’an’s grandmother and grandson—spent half the night comforting her mother. Returning to her room, she began pondering Second Miss Chen.

She’d seen both Miss Chens while accompanying her mother to banquets in the past. But due to their vast social gulf, she’d only glimpsed them from afar—and knew nothing of them.

She only knew that between the two sisters, the elder was radiant and dazzling, while the younger exuded delicate elegance. If compared to flowers, one was a blooming peony, the other a serene water lily.

Yet the sisters’ relationship appeared exceptionally close—they did everything together, their clothing and accessories differing only in color.

Zhong Yao had once envied them, telling Madam Zhong that her two elder brothers were insufferable—and she wished they were both sisters.

At the time, Madam Zhong had replied that even biological sisters could harbor rivalry and jealousy—one shouldn’t judge solely by surface glamour.

Recalling this, Zhong Yao suddenly wondered: First Miss Chen had vanished—yet Second Miss Chen fabricated lies to conceal her disappearance instead of alerting the family to search for her. Could it be that she’d grown jealous of her sister’s advantageous marriage—and hidden her away?

Sisters turning against each other, brothers fighting—such plots abounded in storybooks.

But what did the sisters’ affairs have to do with her eldest brother?

Could it be that her eldest brother, taking responsibility, had desperately protected First Miss Chen—and been captured alongside her by Second Miss Chen?

If so, wasn’t Second Miss Chen far more formidable than she seemed?

Zhong Yao sensed this speculation was somewhat absurd—yet one shouldn’t assume all young ladies from secluded boudoirs were as helpless as herself simply because *she* was weak.

She longed to verify these suspicions—but had no means to do so. She considered writing to Xie Chi again, even sat up—but hearing the rustling night wind outside, she suppressed the impulse.

Zhong Yao slept poorly that night. Waking the next day, she reorganized her thoughts and realized she’d overthought things. Her focus should be on how to approach Second Miss Chen.

On this point, Madam Zhong agreed. After composing herself, Madam Zhong drafted a visiting card and sent it to Minister Chen’s residence, requesting a personal meeting with Second Miss Chen to inquire about her son.

The visiting card was rejected—with the explanation that Second Miss Chen had caught a chill and was too unwell to receive guests for the time being.

Zhong Yao grew even more convinced of her guilt.

She longed to immediately arrange a meeting using Xue Fang’s and the Marquis of Yong’an’s names—but unfortunately, heavy rain fell for several consecutive days, delaying her plan.

On the day the rain finally ceased, two pieces of news reached the Zhong residence.

First, news from the Xu River region finally arrived in the capital.

Zhong Huaizhi was summoned to the palace. He entered trembling with fear—and returned utterly bewildered.

“They confirmed that Second Young Master and Xu Su were captured together and taken to the water fortress. Yet after General Qin breached the fortress, neither could be found. Among the captured water bandits, some claimed Second Young Master killed Xu Su and pledged allegiance to them; others claimed Xu Su stabbed Second Young Master to save himself…”

Either version was devastating for the Zhong family—but precisely because it couldn’t be verified, uncertainty remained.

Uncertainty meant Second Young Master was still alive—and the Zhong family remained safe.

“I cannot fall behind Xu Guozhu. Wife—pack my luggage immediately…”

Xu Su was Xu Guozhu's only son and heir. Upon receiving the news, Xu Guozhu mustered a large force, intending to personally go to the Xu River to search for him.

Although the Zhong couple were shocked and bewildered, deep down they feared their son was the murderer. They knew that if their second son were found by Xu Guozhu, he would be a dead man.

Thus, when Zhong Huaizhi met with the emperor, he seized the opportunity of Xu Guozhu’s departure to request permission to also go to the Xu River in person.

Since it concerned his son's innocence and life, the emperor granted his request.

“Yao’er, stay at home obediently to recover from your injury, and take good care of your mother and yourself…”

“I know,” Zhong Yao replied obediently. “I’ll take good care of Mother. Father, please be extremely careful while you’re away…”

The family said their goodbyes reluctantly. They had just seen Zhong Huaizhi off when Zhong Yao sat down to write a letter to Xie Chi.

Trouble followed their family whenever they left the capital. Zhong Yao was truly worried about her father and wrote to beg Xie Chi to secretly send people to protect him.

With her family’s lives at stake, she set aside her pride and humbled herself, filling the letter with pleas.

After finishing the letter, Zhong Yao recalled the fierce words "cut it out" from Xie Chi’s previous reply and felt she shouldn’t be scolded for nothing. So, she sprinkled a few drops of water on the letter, pretending they were her tears.

Not long after the letter was sent, a response arrived.

But this response was not for Zhong Yao—it was for Madam Zhong.

This was the second piece of news received by the Zhong residence, and it was also news that reached many officials’ households across the capital:

The Yong’an Marquis’s household had adopted an orphaned girl, and the Dowager Lady Xie was hosting an adoption banquet to welcome her new granddaughter, inviting many officials’ family members to attend.

Only the Zhong residence’s invitation was different.

“The Dowager Lady said that Miss Zhong shares an extraordinary bond with our young lady, so she earnestly requests that Madam Zhong bring Miss Zhong along without fail,” the messenger emphasized. “Without fail.”