Chapter 18 Servant Bullies Master He was a bit too much

Chapter 18: The Servant Bullies the Master – He Had Gone Too Far

A pair of brand-new black boots landed on the ground next to the pastries, and Song Langyu walked straight past Wen Jiao.

Ying Liu had initially feared that Song Langyu would scold her, but seeing him show no reaction, she grew bolder. She stomped on the pastries one by one, grinding them into crumbs, and whispered a warning to Wen Jiao: "Miss Wen, don’t come anymore. The Iris Courtyard has everything—it doesn’t lack your pastries."

News of what happened at the Iris Courtyard spread quickly. The servants, good at gauging the wind, realized Wen Jiao wasn’t a legitimate master and became perfunctory toward her. Her food was cold, and there was no hot water.

Even the maids at the Glazed Pavilion grew noticeably lazy and slack. At night, when Wen Jiao wanted a drink of water, the maids pretended not to hear. If they reluctantly got up to attend to her, they only brought cold water, claiming the hot water had run out.

After a few days passed with no reaction from Wu Shi, the servants grew even bolder—stealing jewelry, gossiping, shortchanging her meals, and using every means to mistreat Wen Jiao.

The situation had finally developed exactly as Wen Jiao wanted.

Wu Shi’s anger subsided, and she recalled Wen Jiao’s former obedience. That day, she summoned Wen Jiao again. When they met, she didn’t mention the earlier incident but simply asked Wen Jiao to embroider some handkerchiefs for her.

Wen Jiao had lost a lot of weight, her complexion pale and haggard. She murmured agreement and withdrew.

Nanny Zhou massaged Wu Shi’s temples as she said, "Miss Wen’s appearance is unmatched—there are few in the entire capital who are born as beautiful as she. But her family background is too poor; she can’t marry into a high-ranking family."

Nanny Zhou’s massage techniques were no match for Wen Jiao’s. Wu Shi patted her hand to make her stop and said, "Even you can see it, but she insists on fooling herself."

The door curtain was lifted, and Song Langyu, dressed in official robes, entered the room. He asked casually, "Who’s fooling themselves?"

Wu Shi paused before replying, "We were talking about Jiaojiao."

Song Langyu said nothing. He took out a gold filigree bracelet from his sleeve and placed it in front of Wu Shi. "Mother, please take a look. Is this something from our household?"

Wu Shi thought the item looked familiar but couldn’t recall where she’d seen it. "Where did this come from?" she asked.

"When the Ministry of Justice investigated a theft case, they found this bracelet in the gambling den where the stolen goods were being fenced. The culprit claimed the bracelet wasn’t stolen but was sold by someone from Duke Zhenguo’s mansion."

Wu Shi’s expression turned serious. She handed the bracelet to Nanny Zhou. "Take a look at this."

Nanny Zhou examined it. "This bracelet is indeed from the mansion. At the time, there were two—one was given to the eldest young lady, and one to Miss Wen."

*

"Since the young lady knows she is merely a guest living in the mansion, she should be sensible. It’s cold now, and it’s inevitable that the food cools quickly. Even the legitimate masters of the mansion don’t complain, yet you, an outsider, find fault. Insisting we take it back to the kitchen to be reheated before bringing it again—why bother?" Steward Wang’s voice was shrill as she sneered with a sidelong glance.

It was already past lunchtime. Steward Wang had used her own meal first before sending someone to the kitchen to collect the food. When the meal was laid out, there was a plate of wilted yellow stir-fried greens and another of stark white braised fatty meat—like servants’ fare.

This had been the case for days, and Wen Jiao didn’t complain. But today, the braised meat was thoroughly cold, a layer of white fat congealed solid, making it impossible to eat. She wanted to ask a maid to take it to the kitchen to warm up.

At that one remark, Steward Wang reacted like a cat with its tail stepped on, shrieking wildly.

Wen Jiao sat on the low couch by the window, an embroidery hoop in hand, focused on stitching a handkerchief.

Seeing Wen Jiao say nothing, Steward Wang refused to let it go. She craned her neck and said:

"If you, miss, had been proper and obedient, Madam would naturally dote on you. But it’s your own shameless behavior that made those of us who serve you lose face. I say, you should be more prudent. Madam has you embroidering handkerchiefs to cultivate your character. Don’t start entertaining wild thoughts of climbing the social ladder again and bossing us around. Take whatever the kitchen brings back and eat it—don’t put on airs."

"Now even the servants at the Glazed Pavilion can scold their master?"

The door banged open as Wu Shi stepped inside with a cold face, followed by Song Langyu and several matrons.

Steward Wang was startled and quickly knelt to defend herself: "Old servant... old servant wouldn’t dare scold the master! I was merely... merely urging Miss Wen to eat."

Wu Shi glanced at the food on the small table and immediately flew into a rage—

Even the lowest-ranked maids in the mansion had two dishes and a soup for lunch. It might not be delicacies, but at least it was edible.

But in front of Wen Jiao, although there was one meat and one vegetable, they looked like leftovers from several days ago, completely unappetizing.

Wen Jiao’s uncles had mistreated her, and Wu Shi had angrily denounced them as heartless. Yet now she was behaving no better than those heartless relatives!

The angrier Wu Shi grew, the harder she slammed the table: "Is this the lunch for a master in this mansion? Which kitchen matron gave you this?"

After her anger had subsided, Wu Shi also regretted being too harsh that day. Now, seeing these insolent servants mistreat Wen Jiao, she felt even more guilty. She looked at Wen Jiao, who stood quietly with her head bowed, neither complaining nor pleading—forlorn and pitiful.

Of course, Steward Wang had already collected Wen Jiao’s meal ration, but she had eaten it herself and brought back only leftover scraps. There was no way to pin the blame on the kitchen matron.

Gritting her teeth, Steward Wang knelt and kowtowed heavily, pleading, "Madam, this old servant was wrong! I was greedy and stole the young lady’s portion! Please, for the sake of my past diligence, forgive me this once!"

"Aside from this, have you committed any other offenses?" Song Langyu suddenly spoke.

Steward Wang hesitated for a moment, then quickly shook her head: "No, no more! This old servant was just greedy—I haven’t done anything else wrong!"

"Bring the person in!"

A matron with her hands and feet bound was dragged in. As soon as Steward Wang saw the person’s face, she trembled all over and couldn’t even speak a complete sentence.

Song Langyu held up the gold filigree bracelet. "This bracelet was sold by Li, a kitchen buyer. Li confessed that you gave it to her and that you split the silver from the sale. Do you have anything to say in your defense?"

Steward Wang was frightened out of her wits, her legs and feet weak. She could only kowtow repeatedly, begging for mercy.

Song Langyu waved his hand, and someone stepped forward to drag Steward Wang out.

Pulling up the radish brought up the mud—Steward Wang’s theft implicated over a dozen people. Wu Shi dealt with them all—some were beaten with boards, others expelled from the mansion.

After handling the matter, Wu Shi patted Wen Jiao’s hand and said, "Your aunt was careless and let these insolent servants bully you. I’ll send two capable people to serve you later. If you ever have any grievances, be sure to tell me."

Wen Jiao rose and performed a proper bow. With thoughtfulness, she said, "The Duke’s mansion is so vast—Auntie has too many things to worry about. It’s only natural that you sometimes overlook me. You needn’t blame yourself."

Wu Shi left with her people, but Song Langyu didn’t go. He frowned and asked, "When servants bully their master, you just endure it?"

Wen Jiao lifted her eyes to glance at him. A bitter smile touched her lips, and her eyes glistened, but her voice was clear: "I’ve long been used to it. Besides... I’m not a proper master anyway. I’m already a nuisance; why cause more trouble?"

Song Langyu paused, then explained, "Whether you believe it or not, I didn’t authorize what happened at the Glazed Pavilion."

Wen Jiao sat on the edge of the couch, her head bent as she embroidered the handkerchief in her hand. Her voice was soft, but loud enough for Song Langyu to hear: "Cousin has been cold and distant to me and allowed the maids to treat me with contempt. The servants in this household all read the master’s expression. Without you saying a word, they see your attitude and know how to treat me."

Song Langyu was about to speak when he suddenly heard a faint chirping. Following the sound, he saw a small cotton-stuffed nest on the windowsill, a fluffy baby bird inside.

Wen Jiao gently reached out and scooped up the bird, her fingers lightly scratching its head. The bird closed its eyes in contentment.

She was dressed in a plain white jacket, her face free of makeup but her skin fair. Her eyes brimmed with joy at the bird’s adorable demeanor—fragile yet beautiful.

Like a figure carved from ice and sculpted from snow—beautiful but easily broken.

The Duke Zhenguo mansion had a simple household. As far as Song Langyu could remember, nothing had ever gone wrong. He hadn’t realized that his attitude had made life difficult for Wen Jiao.

But Wen Jiao seemed to have grown accustomed to such injustice. Or perhaps not accustomed—just powerless.

As an orphan girl living in someone else’s mansion, what could she do but endure?

Song Langyu’s lips tightened.

Wen Jiao picked up a few grains of millet and placed them on her palm. The chick pecked at the grains, tickling her palm. She couldn’t help but smile as she tapped the bird’s head gently. "Eat, eat. When your wings grow out, I’ll set you free."

As she spoke, her eyes seemed to glisten, and her voice was a little choked.

Song Langyu suddenly felt he was being mean. Sure, Wen Jiao might have ulterior motives, but she just wanted a stable life.

There's nothing wrong with wanting to live well, nor is it a sin.

He had crossed a line.

His footsteps gradually faded away, leaving only Wen Jiao in the room. She gently stroked the bird’s feathers, her voice sweet and lovely: "I wonder if the young master's gonna lose sleep tonight?"

Night fell over the Calamus Courtyard.

Song Langyu was indeed unsettled. He had looked down on Wen Jiao, resented her, so he turned a blind eye to everything about her, leading to this mess.

He had started learning at three, passed the imperial examinations at ten, and entered officialdom at sixteen. His conduct had always been proper, yet now he had become harsh and unkind toward a helpless girl.

Moonlight filtered through the casement window, casting a patch of silver on the floor.

Song Langyu was wide awake; he could vaguely hear soft voices outside the courtyard.

"Who is speaking outside?"

The door cracked open, and Ying Liu entered, replying, "Someone's not feeling well and sent for the doctor."

"Who is ill?" During the change of seasons from spring to summer, Wu Shi’s headaches were most likely to flare up.

Ying Liu pursed her lips and let out a contemptuous snort: "It’s that person from the Glass Pavilion."

Author's note:

None