Chapter 75: My Son Possesses the Bearing of a Great Emperor 1

Aunt Xing was instantly dumbfounded. “Master, wasn’t the Bamboo Courtyard meant for me and Wu’er? If you’re sending the Madam there to reflect in seclusion, then where will Wu’er and I go?”

“Just move out, can’t you? You really need to ask me about such trivial matters? Don’t you have a brain?”

Aunt Xing replied, aggrieved, “Then where should we move?”

“I told you not to bother me with such petty things. I’m busy,” Qin Ye said, rising with his hands clasped behind his back. As he walked past the three mother and children sitting on the ground, he paused.

Madam Cui’s gaze was calm and empty, as if she were a puppet stripped of all hope. The two children’s eyes, on the other hand, brimmed with hostility and suspicion.

It lasted but a moment, yet Qin Ye still hesitated slightly.

Ah, another one reborn.

That made three of them.

There must be something wrong with the fabric of time in this world—it’s practically riddled with holes.

But such matters had little to do with Qin Ye. Hands behind his back, he strolled leisurely out the door, taking with him a well-trained young servant, and spent the day idly chasing chickens and teasing dogs outside.

Such was the unadorned simplicity of Master Qin’s life.

If he wasn’t playing games with the concubines of the household, dutifully contributing his excellent breeding abilities like a prize stud for the sake of heirs, he was wandering the streets, amusing himself with chickens and dogs.

The Qin family owed its present standing entirely to the support of the Cui clan and Madam Cui’s deft management. Now, however, the Cui family had fallen.

Madam Cui no longer held the reins of power, nor was she in charge of the businesses she once oversaw.

At present, the Qin family was already on the decline, though only the Old Madam, who had wrested control from her daughter-in-law, was aware of it.

Out of pride—unwilling to be seen as inferior to her own daughter-in-law—and with her own motives in mind, she kept the true state of the family carefully concealed.

So long as she could patch holes here and there, the family’s lavish façade could be maintained.

When the day came that it could no longer be sustained, well, she could always arrange for her precious son to lose his wife and marry the heiress of a wealthy family.

The Old Madam, in any case, was in no hurry.

With this mindset, and an ever-present bias for her own niece, she treated Madam Cui and her two children most unfairly.

The two children’s icy stares made the Old Madam exceedingly displeased; she even began to entertain the idea of discarding them altogether.

Previously, she had at least cared that they were her grandchildren. Now that they regarded her as their enemy, she felt she could do without them.

That was the real reason the household dared to skimp on Qin Teng and Qin Man’s food and expenses. Otherwise, how would the servants have the nerve to target their young masters so?

After Qin Ye strolled out, the Old Madam—who had been “indisposed” and did not attend—soon learned of Qin Ye’s handling of Madam Cui from Aunt Xing’s loud and tearful complaints.

“Aunt, Cousin has always favored Madam Cui. Though the Cui family has fallen and she is now rootless, who’s to say Cousin’s feelings for her aren’t still profound?”

The Old Madam’s maiden name was Liu; her niece, Liu Yu, was rather plain, far less beautiful than Madam Cui, but she excelled at manipulating a man’s weaknesses.

It was hard to say just how much affection Liu Yu felt for her cousin; he was simply the best option available to her.

Her goal was to bear a son and one day control the entire Qin family, but all she’d given birth to so far were daughters.

If she wished to try again, it wasn’t impossible.

But Liu Yu was a woman well-versed in self-care; men were nothing but tools to improve her life, and children were tools as well.

She only bore children to serve her ends; if it meant harming herself, she found it utterly unworthy.

So she pushed her loyal maid Xing’er forward, making her the current Aunt Xing.

Xing’er was not clever, but she was obedient and easy to manage.

Precisely because she lacked wit, Xing’er carried out her former mistress’s orders to the letter.

Xing’er’s son could just as well be considered Liu Yu’s son.

Most of the time, Wu’er was raised in her quarters.

Being illiterate, Xing’er feared she might jeopardize her child’s prospects, so it was natural for her to entrust him to Liu Yu’s tutelage.

Now, after hearing Xing’er’s complaint, Liu Yu subtly slandered Madam Cui.

Liu Yu actually admired Madam Cui, thinking her every inch the noble-bred lady—her bearing and eloquence all revealed her extraordinary background.

Yet, she had married unwisely: a kindly-faced but venomous mother-in-law, a heartless husband, and with her family’s sudden downfall, she became the target of endless humiliation.

Moreover, her weakness was all too apparent.

But Liu Yu had no choice but to oppose her—for Madam Cui was the official wife and had borne two sons for Master Qin.

“You’re saying my son still cares for her?”

The original connection between the Qin and Cui families had been the result of the Old Madam bribing Cui family servants and orchestrating encounters.

Coincidences and chance meetings were all meticulously planned.

A young, highborn girl, adored and sheltered, naïve and longing for a love that defied convention—such innocence made her easy prey for deception.

At that time, Master Qin fit the bill: nothing more than a fine appearance.

Even in disgrace, a handsome man could flee with style.

An ugly man, even if he stood tall and walked proud, would still appear loathsome and shifty.

A sheltered girl, untested by life’s storms, was particularly susceptible to good looks.

Such had been Madam Cui’s fate.

After marriage, the Qin family kept up the charade for a time.

Madam Liu played the role of the kindest mother-in-law, and Master Qin was diligent and attentive. Madam Cui enjoyed a brief period of marital bliss.

But as soon as the Cui family fell and disaster struck her kin, Madam Cui, desperate, turned to her husband—only to discover the family’s true, monstrous nature.

Now, the Old Madam no longer believed the Cui family could ever rise again, so she had no scruples about tormenting Madam Cui—her only concern was her own son.

After all, she would have to rely on him in the future.

All the more reason she couldn’t allow Madam Cui any place in his heart.

Otherwise, if her son were ever won over by Madam Cui and turned against her, how would the Old Madam survive?

Thus, Liu Yu’s maneuver worked perfectly. After the Old Madam’s question, the more she thought, the more uneasy she became, and in a fit of anger, she swept the cup from the table.

“I have always seen Madam Cui as dignified and proper; who would have thought she’d resort to such vixen’s tricks in private, trying to bewitch my son!”

Liu Yu rolled her eyes inwardly, knowing her dear aunt’s words were really directed at her, but she remained unruffled, stepping forward to soothe the old woman.

“Aunt, don’t trouble yourself too much. Madam Cui, proud of her noble birth, even if she humbles herself, it will be only for a while. Cousin—who knows him better than you? The moment she puts on airs, he’ll lose all interest.”

“Sister, does this mean Wu’er and I truly must move out and leave the Bamboo Courtyard for Madam Cui?”

Liu Yu cast Xing’er a glance. “Why rush? The Bamboo Courtyard was never truly yours. Cousin has spoken—he is the master of this house. What can we do?”

Aunt Xing was a little regretful; had she known, she wouldn’t have stirred the pot. Now she’d lost the Bamboo Courtyard, even though it had originally belonged to the Madam.

It was only because the Madam had fallen from favor and her two young sons didn’t know how to endure, always leaping to defend their mother when she was slighted. That displeased the Master and Old Madam, and so the Bamboo Courtyard ended up in her hands—because she had a son.

Remembering this, Aunt Xing felt reassured. After all, she had a son—there was nothing to fear.

As for education, she left that to Liu Yu; all she needed to do was keep her child entertained, so the boy would remember only her kindness.

Let them think her stupid—what did it matter?

Aunt Xing felt a touch of smugness, but she still put on a look of indignation.

Elsewhere, Qin Teng—the Qin family’s eldest young master—was now eight years old, but his face lacked all the innocence of a child his age.

He was just over a year older than his brother, Qin Man, who was at his side.

Neither brother wore any childish expression; instead, their faces bore an air of maturity and gravity surpassing that of most adults.

“Brother?”

Qin Man was the first to speak. Although he was now certain his brother was like himself, he still called out with a trace of doubt.

Madam Cui had been repeatedly ordered by Madam Liu to greet and serve her every day, forced to rise before dawn and kneel outside the door, not returning until late at night when Madam Liu was soundly asleep.

As winter deepened, the schedule remained unchanged. Even when Madam Cui caught a chill, she still had to observe these rituals.

Once, when she was too ill to rise and arrived late, the old crone seized the chance to berate her ruthlessly. Today’s ordeal was a direct result.

Compared to his distant memories, his mother now seemed utterly drained of vitality, numb and pale, with a sorrowful, sickly look.

Qin Teng silently clenched his fists.

He worked hard to recall a childhood that was far from happy, forcing himself to feign the innocence expected at his age, tending to his mother, tucking her in when she coughed, until she finally drifted into sleep.

Only then, as Madam Cui slept soundly, did he meet his brother’s equally unusual gaze.

At Qin Man’s call of “Brother,” Qin Teng smiled, reached out, and patted Qin Man’s thin arm. “It’s me.”

Their uncle, Cui Ge, was a great general. The Cui family itself was a military clan. After they were taken in by Cui Ge, the brothers lived and trained in the army, learning the art of war.

Qin Man, born prematurely and weak, was nicknamed “No Illness.” He had always been frail, but military life had gradually begun to change that.