Chapter 29: Playing Tricks? Linglong Is Thrilled!

“All right, all right!” Linglong spread her arms in a perfunctory attempt to embrace Qin Daofei, only to have her advance halted by his palm pressing against her forehead—he was covered in mud!

Linglong shrugged. “You’re the one refusing a hug. Goodbye!” With those words, she picked up her little abacus and started to leave, but Qin Daofei caught her slender wrist, grumbling, “Heartless little rascal, come help me bathe and change.”

What was that?

Linglong gaped in astonishment. “Are we that close?” And with her small golden abacus hugged to her chest, she darted away like a startled rabbit. Watching her retreat, her ears flushed crimson, Qin Daofei found the day’s gloom astonishingly swept away.

“Quick, prepare hot water for the master’s bath!” Linglong called as she ran off, while Tan Xiyin hurried to catch up, eyes full of hope.

A faint light flickered in Qin Daofei’s somber gaze. Tan Xiyin thought he would refuse, but he merely nodded and led the way to the Pavilion of Harmonious Sounds.

Yet when Tan Xiyin tried to attend him during his bath, he turned her down.

“Daofei, ever since Linglong disappeared two years ago, you’ve kept your distance from me. Don’t you want me anymore?” Tan Xiyin, heedless of his muddy state, hugged his waist from behind.

Qin Daofei’s eyes darkened. In a low voice he said, “I watched my own child slip away because of my mistake. I cannot forgive myself. If…if you feel wronged, I can let you—”

“No, no! I’ll stay with you, I’ll mourn your child with you, and I’ll wait until your heart is healed!” Tan Xiyin’s tears fell onto his back, but the mud between them kept Qin Daofei from feeling a thing.

Meanwhile, Linglong returned to her own quarters and suddenly remembered that, without Qin Daofei’s promise, Hua’er’s husband would not be allowed to stay the night at Xiaoyao Manor. Thinking of him, caked in mud, she felt a pang of guilt, so she fetched a handmade fragrant balm and headed for the Pavilion of Harmonious Sounds.

But as she arrived, she saw Qin Daofei and Tan Xiyin locked in an embrace—a sight that stabbed her eyes with pain. Furious, she flung the balm to the ground, where it broke in two.

Clutching her skirt, Linglong slipped away as quietly as she had come.

After she left, Qin Daofei calmly pried Tan Xiyin’s hands from his waist. “You’re dirty too. The water’s yours; I’ll bathe elsewhere.” And with no chance for her to protest, he strode away.

At the archway, he felt something underfoot, stepped back, and found the broken balm. He picked up the two pieces and saw the domineering seal of “Feng’s Mark” pressed into the wax. He remembered the first time she’d made balm and run to him, eager to show off, insisting he try it. But then…

But that was then.

With the balm in hand, Qin Daofei marched towards Linglong Pavilion.

Linglong, her heart aching, did not return directly to her room. Instead, she sat alone in the pavilion, clutching her small golden abacus to her cheek and whispered, “Father, please wait a little longer. When I’ve dealt with Xiang Wang, I’ll come to your grave and beg your forgiveness. I won’t keep you waiting much longer.”

She sat there for a long time in the night before finally returning to her quarters. Pushing open the door, she slumped at her desk with a weary sigh, only to hear the sound of water behind the screen.

“Hua’er?” she called.

There was no answer but the splash of water.

A thief?

Cautiously, she snatched up a vase from the small table and crept towards the screen.

Behind it, Qin Daofei reclined lazily by the bath, lips quirked, listening to her approach.

Just as Linglong raised the vase, he reacted in a flash—snatching it from her with a towel and setting it gently on the ground. Before she could recover, he grabbed her hand and, as if she were cargo, tossed her into the bath.

“Qin Daofei…” Linglong gritted her teeth.

“You knew it was me and still tried to smash a vase? Plotting to murder your own husband?” he teased, glancing at her sidelong.

Linglong squeezed her eyes shut, refusing to look at his nakedness. “Husband? More like scoundrel!”

“I’m a scoundrel, am I?” He leaned in, lifting her chin.

Her will to survive strong, Linglong forced a nervous laugh. “You go ahead with your bath. I have things to do.”

Qin Daofei chuckled, tossing a towel onto her face before turning away. “Here’s your chance to repay me for finding your golden abacus.”

“If I refuse?” She didn’t dare curse aloud, but her tone was anything but friendly.

He turned back, giving her a flat look. “Then I’ll find another way you like better.”

Scoundrel! Shameless cheat!

“Turn around!” Linglong kicked out at him.

He caught her ankle and flung her shoe aside.

Nervously, she pressed a hand to her chest, clutching her sock with the other. “I’m exhausted. Just turn around, will you?”

He watched her for a long moment, eyes smoldering, before finally turning his back.

Linglong placed the towel on his back. Gazing at her own hands, water revealing their ugly scars, tears welled in her eyes, but she forced them back and quietly scrubbed his back.

Seeing his dirty clothes on the floor, she wondered why he hadn’t stayed in Tan Xiyin’s room after all.

Qin Daofei handed her the broken balm she’d left in the Pavilion of Harmonious Sounds. “Use this,” he said softly.

Linglong’s lips curved in a wry smile. So that’s how it is.

“I thought you disdained my balm,” she said, acting unconcerned though her mood was anything but.

He closed his eyes, silent.

Finding the whole thing pointless, she scrubbed his back with the towel, but no matter how hard she rubbed, he made no sound. In the end, feeling guilty, she abandoned the towel and used her hands.

The moment her small hand touched his back, his muscles tensed, veins bulging, his whole body as rigid as stone.

Unaware of the danger, Linglong grinned mischievously. “Don’t be nervous, Master Qin. I’m not going to scratch.”

Qin Daofei gazed up at the ceiling, blaming himself for having been her husband three years without teaching her a thing—leaving her as innocent as a sheltered girl. He’d sown this, and he would bear it.

Her clumsy massage soon had him breaking out in a cold sweat. At last, unable to bear it, he ground out, “Feng Linglong, do you even know what you’re doing?”

“I’m giving you a massage to thank you for finding my golden abacus,” she replied, all false innocence.

Suddenly, he spun around, and Linglong tumbled into his arms—her hand landing, by accident, somewhere it shouldn’t.

A hiss of pain.

Linglong leapt up, startled. “Qin Daofei, you lecher!”

Without looking back, she scrambled out, tripping and stumbling as she fled.

Qin Daofei glanced down at himself in defeat, gritting his teeth before finally dressing and leaving the room.

Linglong, having changed into dry clothes, sat at her dressing table daubing powder on her hands. When Qin Daofei emerged, she put down her powder puff, buried her head in her arms, and refused to look at him.

A faint smile tugged at his lips. He scooped her up and tossed her onto the bed. “Didn’t you say you were tired? Still pretending to be dead?”

“Ah, right! I’m so tired. I’m going to sleep now!” She burrowed under the covers.

Just then, Qin Daofei glimpsed a strange scar on her hand. He seized her wrist, discovering it was covered with makeup.

But why wear makeup on her hand?

Linglong stiffened but acted nonchalant, tucking her hand under the quilt and wrapping herself up tight.

From inside her cocoon, she listened as Qin Daofei’s footsteps receded.

“He’s leaving? Going to Tan Xiyin? Bah, Linglong, get a grip!” she scolded herself, half doubting, half warning.

But soon, his steps returned.

He sat beside her, pulled her hand from the quilt, and began wiping off the powder with a towel.

Feeling the damp cloth, Linglong panicked, struggling to pull away. Normally, Qin Daofei would have let her go for fear of hurting her, but this time, his grip was unrelenting.

“It’s ugly!” she protested, hoping her stern tone would stop him.

But he didn’t even glance up, methodically wiping the powder from the back of her hand.

And, as she’d said, the scars were unsightly—peanut-sized marks at each knuckle, like tiny monsters, clawing at Qin Daofei’s eyes and nerves.

With bloodshot eyes, he held her hand tightly, pressing it to his forehead, hiding his expression from her.

“Is it so hideous it made you cry?” she tried to joke, but his grip was iron.

Oh dear!

Linglong patted his head as if comforting a puppy. “Master Qin, Young Master Qin, Lord Qin…”

“It hurts, doesn’t it?” he asked, pulling her into his arms, his head resting atop hers.

She glanced at her hand. “It’s been so long, I don’t remember the pain.” After a pause: “But I do feel hungry. I could use some candy.”

“Candy!” He produced a sweet from a hidden pocket and placed it in her palm.

Linglong paused. “Qin Daofei, you’re a grown man carrying candy—don’t you find that disgusting?”

“Feng Linglong!” he snapped, pushing her away, snatching the candy, unwrapping it, and stuffing it into her mouth. “If only I could silence you with this!”

Tasting its sweetness, Linglong had no more retorts, curling up on his lap, eyes contentedly closed. “This is life—handsome man, candy, and a little wine would make it perfect.”

She wiggled into a comfortable spot and soon drifted into sleep.

Qin Daofei stroked her face, noticing her hair was still damp. He took a towel and gently dried it, drop by drop.

Watching her sleeping face, his expression turned cold and sharp. “Jifeng, thoroughly investigate the Ersheng Balm case from back then—include Tan Xiyin!”

“…Yes.” Jifeng’s silhouette flickered across the window lattice in Qin Daofei’s eyes.

He gripped Linglong’s hand tightly—he’d made one mistake, he would not make a second.

The next morning.

When Linglong awoke, Qin Daofei was gone. She reached up to rub her eyes and found a beautifully wrapped candy in her hand.

“Hmph, flirting with me first thing in the morning, scoundrel!” She tossed the candy off the bed, then instantly recalled its sweetness and, without shame, scrambled to her knees to hunt for it.

Hua’er entered with a washbasin and found Linglong crawling on the floor like a puppy. “Miss, what are you looking for?”

“Qin Daofei gave me a candy. I scorned him and tossed it away,” Linglong replied, clearly regretful.

Hua’er laughed. “If you don’t want it, why look for it?”

“I don’t want Qin Daofei, but that candy was delicious. No reason to refuse the sweet just because of him!” Linglong declared self-righteously.

At the door, Qin Daofei ground his teeth, watching the two search for the candy.

“Found it! Better eat it before it escapes again.” Linglong unwrapped the sweet and popped it in her mouth—only then noticing Qin Daofei’s wounded gaze at the door.

Heh! Ha!

“Master Qin, did you have gunpowder for breakfast?” Linglong’s grin was sweeter than the candy.

A flash of violence passed through Qin Daofei’s eyes. Seeing his expression, Linglong instinctively took a step back, though her face remained calm.

That single step doused the fire in his gaze with a bucket of water.

“I have business to attend to,” he said, turning away.

Linglong caught his sleeve. When he looked back, she quickly let go and shyly twisted her fingers. “Are you going to Xiang Wang’s mansion?”

“Yes. Behave and wait at home—I’ll be back by noon and we’ll go eat something nice.” He ruffled her hair and left.

Linglong stood in the wind, watching him go. “Is this his way of being nice?”

Since their reunion, his attitude had changed again and again. The uncertainty made her anxious, unsure how to respond, and afraid—afraid he was quietly plotting something big.

“Miss…” Hua’er and her husband stood behind her. Linglong turned and regarded them coolly.

Hua’er’s husband advanced with a servile smile and bowed deeply. “Miss, I’m Hua’er’s husband—everyone calls me Wen San. If there’s anything you need, let me do it. I’m strong.”

Linglong scrutinized this Wen San—cloudy-eyed, shifting nervously, a sycophantic smile on his lips, standing and sitting with no dignity at all. He looked every inch a street loafer, a restless sort.

She didn’t know why Hua’er had married such a man, but since Hua’er kept silent, she wouldn’t press.

“Wen San, is it? Linglong Pavilion may be quiet, but it’s peaceful. All you need do is help Hua’er keep the courtyard tidy—nothing more. The work is easy, but you’ll be paid like the other servants. Stay if you wish.”

Her tone was gentle, her smile disarming—easy to mistake for innocence.

Wen San was secretly delighted. He’d heard that Feng Linglong was the eldest miss of Feng’s Mark, and even a fallen camel is bigger than a horse; who knew what benefits awaited him? And seeing how Qin Daofei treated her, the rumors outside couldn’t be trusted. Yes, he’d come to the right place.

“You may go,” Linglong said with a smile.

Hua’er, recognizing her mistress’s calculating tone, hurried Wen San away.

Linglong returned to her room, placed her abacus on the table, and laid two hundred-tael banknotes beside it.

A gust of wind, and a woman in black appeared at the desk. Without glancing at the notes, she pocketed them. “Speak.”

“What did you find out about Hua’er?” Linglong asked.

The woman poured herself tea with languid grace. “Not much yet. After you left two years ago, Hua’er left the Qin family too. She disappeared for half a month, during which we lost her trail. After that, she married Wen San.”

“Is there a problem with Wen San?” Linglong pressed.

“He’s got every vice a man can—drinking, gambling, whoring, and beating his wife—”

Linglong shot up. “He beats Hua’er?”

“Three times a day, like meals.” The woman stood to leave.

Linglong rolled her eyes. “I paid you, and you’re leaving with the job half done?”

“Speak,” the woman replied curtly.

Linglong grinned, pulling her close to whisper, but the woman was taller, forcing Linglong to stretch. “Cooperate a little, will you, hero?”

“If you and Qin Daofei ever put on a full show for me, maybe I’ll indulge you,” the woman teased icily.

Linglong glared, fetched a chair, and, after whispering her plan, was rewarded with a withering look and a quick dusting off of her shoulder before the woman vanished like the wind.

Linglong stretched, her fright from before forgotten. But glancing down into the courtyard where Hua’er cowered under Wen San’s bullying, her good mood vanished.

She strolled outside; Wen San, seeing her, snatched the broom from Hua’er and fawned, “Let me do the dirty work!”

Hua’er glared but said nothing before Linglong.

Linglong smiled without a word, then pulled Hua’er aside. “I want to plant some rosebushes here. What do you think?”

“I’ll arrange it tomorrow,” Hua’er said.

Soon after, Linglong pointed to a corner. “Hua’er, there’s a rat!”

Hua’er shrieked, clinging to Linglong, who shook her off and called, “Wen San, come help me catch it!”

Eager to impress, Wen San hurried over.

Hua’er pressed herself to the wall, barely breathing.

With Wen San’s help, Linglong soon had the frightened rat pinned. Just as Wen San was about to stomp it, she stopped him. “Wait… This rat dared scare Hua’er—I can’t let it off easy.”

She pinned its tail, drew a small dagger from her pouch, and cheerfully directed Wen San, “Find me four big stones!”

He obeyed, and Linglong used the stones to pin the rat’s limbs, belly exposed, then with a few quick motions, she castrated it.

Wen San paled, legs clamping together. What a ruthless woman!

“Hua’er is my family, like a sister to me. Anyone who bullies her—may he die childless!” Linglong cleaned her blade with a handkerchief and smiled at Wen San. “My Hua’er is lovely—I trust you won’t mistreat her?”

Shaking, Wen San stammered, “Of course not, Miss. I wouldn’t dare. She’s my wife—I’m lucky to have her!”

“Good.” Linglong smiled.

He fled, muttering, “I’ll take out the trash now.”

“Be careful!” Linglong called after him, all concern.

She turned to Hua’er. “Remember, you belong to the Feng family!”

“Thank you, Miss,” Hua’er murmured tearfully.

Linglong pouted, “There you go, crying again!”

“Auntie loves bullying people—seems she’ll never change!” came a sarcastic voice.

Linglong frowned at Hua’er, who immediately drew herself up with a cold retort, “If the second wife can’t discipline her maid, I’ll be happy to help her remember her place.”

“Now, now, Hua’er, we’re proper ladies. No need to be rude,” Linglong chided, feigning kindness.

Tan Xiyin, standing behind Xiaocui, looked at Linglong, suspicious—this woman couldn’t possibly be so good-natured.

Linglong grinned. “Are you here for me, or for Daofei?”

“I’ve come to return the manor’s account books to the first wife,” Tan Xiyin smiled.

Linglong glanced at the books in Xiaocui’s arms. “Why should I keep your accounts?”

“Now that the first wife is back, it’s only right for her to manage the manor,” Tan Xiyin replied, playing the part of the dutiful concubine.

Linglong shrugged. “I won’t do such a tiring job. I handle important matters; you deal with the trivial ones.”

“Then what do you consider important, if not the manor’s affairs?” Tan Xiyin asked.

Linglong clapped her hands. “Qin Daofei is the important matter. I only manage him!”

Tan Xiyin almost spat blood. Clever—control Qin Daofei, control the manor, even the inner quarters.

Linglong patted Tan Xiyin’s shoulder. “You only have the inner court left. If you don’t hold onto it, you’ll have nothing.”

“Feng Linglong! I’ve tolerated you again and again, but you keep hurting me!” Tan Xiyin cried.

Linglong shrank back, shuffled towards the rat’s “prison,” and stealthily kicked away the stones. The newly emasculated rat, crazed with rage, charged straight at Tan Xiyin.

“A rat! There’s a rat!” Xiaocui screamed first, dropping the account books and fleeing.

Tan Xiyin realized too late and ran after her, but the rat pursued her as if she were its mortal enemy.

Linglong laughed until she could barely stand.

“Miss, why is the rat after her?” Hua’er suspected Linglong, but had seen her do nothing.

Linglong lied with a straight face, “She made it a eunuch, so who else would it chase?”

She stretched and pulled Hua’er away. “Let’s go watch the fun.”

“You stay put!” Hua’er dragged her back to their room, denying her the spectacle.

So Linglong missed the drama.

Tan Xiyin and Xiaocui fled back to the Pavilion of Harmonious Sounds, but the rat pursued them relentlessly, their screams echoing through the manor.

When word spread that the concubine was being chased by a rat, Steward Zhang hurried over with men, but by then, the rat had vanished.

Tan Xiyin and Xiaocui trembled in terror, never having seen such a vicious rat. Any sound made them jump.

Indeed, the rat was gnawing through the floorboards and dropped before them, baring its fangs before launching itself at them.

Their combined shrieks rang through the manor. Linglong, unable to witness it herself, listened from her upstairs window with glee.

“Miss, you really didn’t do it?” Hua’er eyed her mistress with disbelief.

Linglong toyed with her dice. “She owes me much more than this.”

Hua’er fell silent.

Back at the Pavilion of Harmonious Sounds, Tan Xiyin and Xiaocui, driven out by the rat, ran straight for Songbo Residence.

“Has this rat become a spirit?” Steward Zhang muttered, never having seen such a determined creature. After a moment’s hesitation, he barked, “Catch that rat! If the second wife is frightened, you’ll answer for it!”

So the scene unfolded: the rat chased Tan Xiyin, the servants chased the rat.

Everyone ended up at Songbo Residence.

Tan Xiyin burst into Lady Xiangyu’s room, sobbing hysterically. Xiaocui, left outside, screamed as the rat found another way in.

The rat only targeted Tan Xiyin? The thought ran through everyone’s mind, but only Xiaocui knew someone must have tampered with it.

“Crying and wailing—are you possessed?” Lady Xiangyu, never fond of Tan Xiyin, snapped at the sight of her tears.

“Mother-in-law, you must help me!” Tan Xiyin pleaded.

“What now?” Lady Xiangyu demanded.

“I only wanted to help the first wife with the accounts, but she produced a rat that chased me all over! It was terrifying!” Tan Xiyin sobbed.

“So terrifying and you didn’t faint?” Lady Xiangyu retorted, making Tan Xiyin flush.

Seeing her speechless, Lady Xiangyu pressed on, “Don’t think I don’t know your schemes. Would you really help Feng Linglong with the accounts?”

“Mother-in-law, I only wanted to test her intentions,” Tan Xiyin replied sorrowfully.

Chittering sounds interrupted them. Tan Xiyin, nerves frayed, panicked at every noise.

The rat reappeared, having gnawed through the floor, and leapt at Lady Xiangyu’s shoulder, glaring at her.

A forty-five-year-old woman, shrieking and leaping in terror.

Steward Zhang wiped his brow and was about to intervene, but Lady Xiangyu, hair disheveled, stumbled out, tear-streaked, clutching Tan Xiyin. “Where did you find this rat?”

“Mother-in-law—ah, the rat’s coming!” In her panic, Tan Xiyin shoved Lady Xiangyu, who hit a pillar and collapsed.

But Tan Xiyin fared little better; the rat pounced on her face, clinging tight.

Her scream was earth-shattering as she fainted dead away.

As chaos reigned, a cold voice cut through the noise. “What’s going on here?”

“Master…” Steward Zhang was at a loss.

Qin Daofei surveyed his unconscious mother and the rat clinging to Tan Xiyin’s face. “Call the doctor,” he ordered, then carried Lady Xiangyu inside.

Tang Li resignedly picked up the rat from Tan Xiyin’s face and, seeing its condition, was filled with despair. He handed the rat to Steward Zhang. “Take the second wife back.”

Then, carrying the rat, he went inside.

“Master, this rat was…was…” Tang Li hesitated.

“Spit it out!” Qin Daofei snapped.

“Castrated!” Tang Li declared, making the rat pose for Qin Daofei’s inspection.

Qin Daofei’s expression was complex—anger, headache, and a hint of amusement.

“Lock up the rat. I’ll settle this later!”

Tang Li shrugged, for the umpteenth time wondering why his master had brought that little demon back.

Once the doctor confirmed Lady Xiangyu had only fainted from the blow, Qin Daofei instructed, “Bring the rat. Come with me.”

And so, the day moved on.