The Rebirth Of An Ill-Fated Consort

Chapter 213: Argument (2)

Xiao Shao looked at her and shook his head, “It’s nothing.” His gaze fell on her face again, “Have you been using the medicine?”

Since seeing the Imperial Ancestress, Jiang Ruan had started using the medicine provided by Xiao Shao. That medicated ointment was truly a rare panacea, far more effective than ordinary injury treatments, allowing quick recovery. However, out of deference to the Virtuous Empress, she had only used a little each day. Even so, the injuries had now completely healed.

“I’ve used it. It’s excellent medicine,” Jiang Ruan smiled.

Xiao Shao smiled faintly, “I’ll have Tian Zhu bring you some more.” That injury ointment was precious – even the palace ladies could scarcely get a bit. Yet it had been used to treat the slap mark on Jiang Ruan’s face. If the imperial physicians like Mo Cong found out, they would surely berate him for such wasteful extravagance.

Jiang Ruan felt the atmosphere was strange. She looked up at Xiao Shao, who happened to be looking down at her. Though her height was considered tall, Xiao Shao towered over her, only reaching his chest level. From this angle, she appeared petite and adorable. Xiao Shao’s deep gaze seemed to contain an unusual emotion. After meeting his eyes for a moment, Jiang Ruan averted her gaze, an inexplicable feeling stirring within her heart.

She inwardly wondered why she had become increasingly flustered lately. However, her momentary unease did not escape Xiao Shao, who curved his lips slightly.

Luzhu trailed some distance behind, growing anxious. Prince Xiao was inscrutable while her own young mistress outwardly gentle yet inwardly aloof. How long would this dance continue before they drew closer? As a clever and charming personal maid, she naturally wanted to help her mistress find happiness. Luzhu clenched her fist, determined that in a few days’ time, she would seize an opportunity – who said only cultivated nobles could play matchmaker? An intelligent maid like herself could do it too.

After claiming illness to avoid court for several days, Jiang Quan finally emerged from the Jiang mansion once more. Not to mention the mocking looks from his colleagues when attending court, but even after dismissal, people still mocked him from behind his back. Jiang Quan, who prided himself on being from an upright prestigious family of integrity, had thoroughly disgraced himself in an unprecedented humiliation. On the way back, he constantly urged the carriage driver to hurry home.

The carriage rumbled along for who knows how long before suddenly stopping. Jiang Quan thought they had arrived at his residence, puzzled by the unusually short journey time. But when he pulled back the carriage curtain, he froze – it was not his familiar mansion, but a desolate outer suburb.

“Driver, driver!” Jiang Quan shouted furiously. “Where is this place?!”

But no matter how much he called, no one answered. A chill ran down Jiang Quan’s spine as a bad premonition arose. He jumped out to find an unfamiliar man on the driver’s seat instead of the usual coachman.

Jiang Quan suppressed his fear and demanded, “Who are you?”

The man just sneered and clapped his hands. The sound of wind filled the air as a figure suddenly appeared – a woman.

These two strangers regarded Jiang Quan, who surveyed the deserted surroundings. Even if he shouted for help, no one would hear. Remaining calm, he said, “Honorable ones, what do you want? If it’s money, we can discuss terms.”

“The honorable minister speaks so arrogantly,” the woman cackled. “But we don’t want money.”

If not money, then they wanted his life. Cold sweat poured down Jiang Quan’s brow as he had no idea who he had offended. Feigning composure, he said, “Let’s talk this through…harming an imperial official is a grave crime…”

Scorn flashed in their eyes. So this pathetic man had struck the young mistress? No wonder the master was so furious. The man’s face twisted into a smirk. Before Jiang Quan could speak, he felt his legs go weak as a small stone struck his kneecap, collapsing sideways.

“Tsk, such brittle bones,” Jin Er sneered, turning to the woman. “Your turn.”

Jin San cracked her knuckles, slowly approaching the downed Jiang Quan. No matter how ruthless, women tended to be softer. Seeing this, Jiang Quan begged, “Miss, please spare me! I can give you silver. Who ordered you to kill me?”

“Why the urgency, Minister Jiang? I’m not here for your life,” Jin San smiled alluringly. “I just found you rather unsightly. A few days ago, we heard that to punish your wife’s infidelity, Minister Jiang severely beat his own legitimate daughter from the Jiang manor. As wanderers, we despise such injustice and felt wronged on behalf of that poor girl.”

Seeing Jiang Quan still uncomprehending, Jin San’s expression turned cold, “So allow us to mete out justice for her!”

A crisp volley of over ten resounding slaps rang out in the wilderness, making one’s ears ring. Finished, Jin San blew on her hands, “That stung.”

One should never underestimate the disciplined might of Jin Yi Wei enforcers. Though a fragile woman, Jin San’s strikes were far heavier than Jiang Quan’s that day, each packing full force to leave him seeing stars, his face quickly swelling into a pig’s head. Perhaps she hit too hard – her nails raked across his face, leaving scratch marks.

Jin San giggled, “My bad.”

Jiang Quan felt like vomiting blood. An upright official now disgraced like this! All because of Jiang Ruan – she was simply born to torment him! His current plight was entirely Jiang Ruan’s doing! She was no daughter, but an nemesis, a debt collector!

Jiang Quan viewed Jiang Ruan as a thorn in his side, never reflecting on how unfatherly his own actions towards her had been. Some people simply never recognize their own faults, always feeling wronged by others.

After venting Jiang Ruan’s grievances, Jin Er and Jin San had no desire to look at Jiang Quan again. Leaving him stranded in the wilderness, he would need to make quite an effort to find his way back to the Jiang manor.

As they departed, Jin San said, “The young mistress ordered an eye for an eye. How was our retaliation?”

“Not bad, we added some extras,” Jin Er replied. “With such diligence, we’re sure to earn face with the young mistress going forward.”

That day, the disgraced Jiang Quan had to drive himself back to the Jiang manor with over ten slap marks on his face, in full view of the capital’s populace. Everyone saw the sorry state of this once prestigious, upright minister. Some speculated he had been beaten by a courtesan, judging by the feminine slap and nail marks.

Soon, all the storytelling houses were abuzz relaying this incident as an amusing tale recounted endlessly in taverns, drawing quite the audience. In no time, the entire capital knew of Jiang Quan’s misfortune.

Pity the man ended up like this on his very first day back from claimed illness. Genuinely bedridden now, he submitted a memorial requesting leave from the emperor. Utterly humiliated, while inwardly cursing Jiang Ruan, he also wondered – it seemed far-fetched to blame wandering pugilists. Who would really back Jiang Ruan? The Imperial Ancestress? The Zheng manor? Yet neither the Empress Dowager nor General Zhao Guang were people Jiang Quan could provoke. For now, he could only swallow his anger, secretly vowing to settle the score eventually.

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