Chapter 91 Rice Cake: “Fool.”

Chapter 91: Rice Cake: "Fool."

For many days, Tian Qin had groveled, fawned sweetly, and played the tender, warm role, enduring all kinds of twisted, outlandish behavior from Xie Tanwei with a placating grin—all to drive the person in Qiutang Residence into a frenzy and to their death.

But things didn't go her way. Xian Qiu's vitality was remarkably tenacious; after drinking the physician's medicine, she actually pulled through.

What thick moss had grown in Xian Qiu's heart, no one could say, but on the surface, she had resumed her role as a virtuous wife.

When Xie Tanwei fed her medicine, she wept profusely, leaning her frail, paper-thin body on him, and said guiltily, "It's all my fault—this illness came out of nowhere and dragged you down, my lord."

Xie Tanwei raised his voice a little and comforted her, "You've just recovered from a serious illness. Don't overthink it."

Pus had drained from Xian Qiu's left ear, and it barely healed, but her right ear was permanently deaf. Even at double volume, she could only faintly hear what others said.

Her husband, Xie Tanwei, was as tender as ever, standing close, yet his voice was distant and blurred, like an invisible, unbreachable wall between them.

Xian Qiu hated it—hated it so much her heart felt like it was about to heave.

She, the matriarch, was already untouchable because of her stone disease. Now, with one ear gone, all the visiting guests saw her as half an invalid, casting sympathetic or subtly gloating looks, anticipating the drama of a concubine taking her place.

This was worse than death.

Everything Xian Qiu had once been proud of came crashing down, trapping her in an endless, silent hell.

For Tian Qin, it was equally unfortunate. Xian Qiu hadn't died; days of effort had been ground to dust, all her previous work undone.

Tian Qin wandered sadly along a golden autumn path, dazed and lost. The fallen leaves crunched under her feet, and a cold wind filled her heart, angry at fate, and even more at herself.

Two lifetimes, and the heavens were still messing with her.

Xian Qiu was at death's door and didn't die. The only reason could be that Xie Tanwei wouldn't let her die.

Xie Tanwei might not have used any miraculous medicine to save Xian Qiu, but he sure hadn't kicked her while she was down. Otherwise, if he wanted Xian Qiu dead, she would have died ten times over.

He really kept a balanced hand, keeping the balance between wife and concubine—not entirely favoring her, nor completely hostile to Xian Qiu.

Everything he did adhered to his own code of conduct. For now, Xian Qiu's death was of no benefit to him. His vague attitude hung over the two women, keeping them nervously guessing, with the answer clenched in his hand alone.

This game was getting more and more confusing.

That autumn, Tian Qin fell into the sea and got sick. Xian Qiu went deaf and got sick. They were square.

After this ordeal, Xian Qiu had been forcibly robbed of an ear. She hated Tian Qin to the bone, and the score was now fully settled.

Xian Qiu refused to back out of the Xie family's battlefield. Tian Qin wanted to pull back but couldn't. Between them was Xie Tanwei, who held life and death in his hands. All three were caught in an invisible web.

Since Xian Qiu was still alive, Tian Qin lost interest in currying favor with Xie Tanwei. Her spirit and energy withered. She shut herself in and went back to being a walking corpse.

If dealing with Xian Qiu was this hard for Tian Qin, dealing with Xie Tanwei was even harder. She sank deeper into the mire with every struggle. The stars and moon dimmed; the road ahead was bleak and endless, with no end in sight.

But in outsiders' eyes, she was still the favored concubine held in the Lord's palm. This bitterness was hard to tell anyone.

To survive in the great mansion, Tian Qin had no choice but to lean on the Lord, since the Lord decided the fate of the women in the inner quarters.

Repeating the mistakes of her past life seemed inevitable. When had she become the person she hated most?

Tian Qin asked herself. Sometimes she was truly tired, unable to fight any longer. Let the overwhelming torrent of the world swallow her whole.

After Xian Qiu's recovery, there were many visiting relatives and guests, with piles of gifts stacking up. Every single one insisted on paying a personal visit.

Some genuinely cared for Xian Qiu, but more came to gather info or seize the chance to mend ties with the Xie family and seek political shelter at court.

The steward had no choice. With the master's okay, a small banquet was arranged to return the favor.

On the day of the banquet, Xian Qiu wore a headband and a heavy cloak, supported by two maids, as she came out of the inner hall, panting every few steps. Although her face had the pallor of someone long ill, her every move was dignified and solemn, proper and measured.

Xie Tanwei stood shoulder to shoulder with Xian Qiu, never abandoning his ailing wife. Naturally, he earned praises from the crowd: "A divine couple," "a perfect match," "enviable."

This bustle had nothing to do with Tian Qin.

Tian Qin's emotions were like sediment sinking to the bottom of clear water—flat and still. She avoided the milling crowd, becoming a dull, gray shadow as before, a loser.

Bored, she picked up a piece of water chestnut-flavored rice cake, put it in her mouth, and bit out a crescent shape.

Suddenly, her wrist was yanked—not roughly, but firmly. Caught off guard, she saw Xie Tanwei snatch the rice cake away, biting lightly into the very crescent shape she had bitten, his manner languid and casual.

"Brother-in-law!"

Annoyance flared as she reached to take it back. "What are you doing? That's the one I ate..."

Xie Tanwei, a full head taller than her, easily raised his hand out of her reach.

"Don't be stingy. It's just a rice cake."

He messed with her composure completely. Already notorious, being seen sharing a piece of pastry with her brother-in-law at a crowded banquet would only fuel worse gossip.

"If you want rice cake, there's plenty here. Don't take mine."

Indignantly, she pointed at the ceramic plate on the table, where neat rows of pink, soft cakes lay, trying to reclaim the piece.

Xie Tanwei was nonchalant, utterly unafraid of shattering his mask of virtue and morality. In truth, he was strong enough that even if the mask broke, he had plenty of power to handle the ensuing trouble.

He put the half-eaten rice cake into his mouth, chewing deliberately on the spot she had bitten, with clear intent. The sweet fragrance of water chestnut lingered. He smiled at her freely, without restraint, as if nothing had happened.

There were plenty of rice cakes, but he insisted on eating hers.

Watching his teeth gently open and close, his Adam's apple bob, Tian Qin felt a strange itch in her heart.

Sharing a single piece of food was a kiss without desire.

Xie Tanwei finished the whole rice cake with satisfaction, as smoothly as if he often ate her things. His expression was idle, his eyes dark and deep, brimming with a feeling that defied words. He turned his head and said to her, "Come to my study tonight."

Tian Qin stiffened. "Why?"

"Have you forgotten?" Xie Tanwei flicked her upturned nose, capturing the warm, confused light in her eyes. "That day, your little sister begged repeatedly to stay the night in the study. I didn't agree because of court affairs. Today, I happen to have leisure."

Tian Qin hadn't expected him to remember such a trivial detail from so long ago. She wouldn't go. Now that Xian Qiu was alive, it was pointless to please him anymore. Back then, she had begged to stay only to deal a heavy blow to the ailing Xian Qiu.

In an instant, she racked her brain for excuses—her period? A stomachache? None seemed useful.

Xie Tanwei's expectant eyes gradually dimmed, turning into a pool of cold pride. He suddenly grabbed her wrist, his elusive smile sending chills down her spine. "I wasn't discussing it with you, little sister."

If she didn't go, the Love Gu would make her go.

Tian Qin nodded reluctantly, against her will.

Only then did Xie Tanwei arrogantly pat the tassels on her hair bun.

Tian Qin stared ruefully at the empty spot in the plate of rice cakes. She should never have eaten that seed of disaster in the first place.

…

Painting Garden.

Zhaolu and Wan Cui helped Tian Qin change clothes. Wan Cui said with a heavy heart, "Every time the young mistress goes to the Lord's study, she comes back just skin and bones. Do you really have to go?"

It was a den of tigers and wolves, a dragon’s pool and cave, a pit of fire.

Tian Qin’s expression turned grim. Layer after layer of skirts were put on, the high collar covering her slender neck, trying to cover herself as tightly as possible—though in Xie Tanwei’s eyes, this was nothing but an act of self-deception, utterly useless as a shield, and instead faintly exuding an air of abstinence, which he twisted into an invitation.

"What can I do..."

Whether she needed something from Xie Tanwei or not, she had to serve him. Whenever he pleased, she had to come at his beck and call. He was not someone she could simply use and then discard at will.

Perhaps she should be grateful that he still had a shred of conscience, that he didn’t force her to have a child. Otherwise, she would have been like in her previous life—pregnancy after pregnancy, only for the children to be taken away and raised by another woman, her situation even more dire.

Tian Qin tilted her head back and took a deep breath. Lantern in hand, she stepped into the darkness.

She had walked this stone path countless times, each step plunging deeper into the abyss.

Xie Tanwei had little interest in the banquet. He left it to Xian Qiu to handle and was waiting early in his study for Tian Qin. But feeling the study too cold and solemn, and the bed too hard, afraid it might bruise her delicate skin, he changed his mind and decided to go to the Wuwotongchun Garden.

Tian Qin instinctively resisted. She would rather stay in the study.

She despised Wuwotongchun Garden. It was the bridal chamber where he and Xian Qiu had married, completely his territory. As an intruder, she would only invite harsher punishment and retaliation from him.

But Xie Tanwei gave her no chance to refuse. He called for Zhao Ning to extinguish the study’s candles and handle the cleanup, then took Tian Qin’s hand and led her to the picturesque Wuwotongchun Garden.

Along the way, servants who saw them with their fingers interlocked bowed in greeting.

The Lord’s favor was like nourishing spring rain, making Tian Qin radiant, like a bright moon in the darkness of the Xie estate—no longer the lowly concubine sister living under someone’s roof.

Tian Qin felt uncomfortable, as if needles were pricking her back. She tried several times to pull her hand away, but Xie Tanwei’s grip was like an iron hoop.

She wanted to quicken her pace and get it over with—fine, Wuwotongchun Garden it was. She steeled herself, but Xie Tanwei, on the contrary, took his time, enjoying this moonlit stroll. The pale silver moonlight fell on his shoulders, and he always wore a smile.

They encountered some lingering banquet guests along the way. He pulled Tian Qin to stop and exchange pleasantries, his hand resting casually on her shoulder, as if deliberately asserting his claim. The families that had once sought to betroth their sons to Tian Qin had long vanished.

"Xie Tanwei, don’t go too far," Tian Qin said, at the end of her patience.

He replied nonchalantly, "Oh? You don’t like being introduced, so you prefer being hidden away?"

"You..." Tian Qin was speechless, staring.

He always used such insolent excuses.

"I didn’t say that."

"Idiot." Xie Tanwei’s gaze was dark, sweeping over her slowly, profound like a mountain lake.

He never let go of her hand. Even in the ink-black shadows of the estate, she couldn’t move three inches away from him.

Tian Qin was furious but helpless, like a pool of resigned, stagnant water following Xie Tanwei.

He leaned close to her, sticking to her as if he didn’t know how to walk. He seemed unusually cheerful tonight. By the moonlight-dappled lake at the entrance of Wuwotongchun Garden, he recited an amorous poem. His voice was melodious, rising and falling gracefully, unceasingly captivating—making the act of listening to poetry itself a pleasure.

The hand that held hers was not only the most beautiful hand, the hand most skilled at medicine, but also the most talented at writing in the world. He truly was a man of many talents. But for Tian Qin, the more he could do, the harder it became for her to escape, until the spider’s web completely ensnared her.

Though the moon was bright, it could not light up the darkness inside the estate.