Chapter Eleven: Defiance

Qin Muchuan felt as though his whole body was ablaze with pain, the worst of it concentrated on his backside—a sensation so excruciating it bordered on unbearable. After struggling for what felt like an eternity, he managed to force a single, broken word from his throat: “Water…”

Gu Qiulan was dozing by the bed’s edge. At the faint sound, her eyes opened at once. She hurried over with a cup in hand, holding it to Qin Muchuan’s lips. “Husband, here’s water. Drink, quickly.”

The sight of her filled Qin Muchuan with such rage that his handsome face turned white with flecks of black. He clamped his mouth shut, determined to die of thirst rather than accept her help.

“Husband?” Gu Qiulan was startled by his sudden silence. She set the cup aside in alarm and reached out to check his breath.

“Take your hand away,” Qin Muchuan said coolly.

“But, husband, if I take my hand away, how will you drink water?” Her voice was gentle, coaxing.

“I wouldn’t dare trouble you.” Qin Muchuan scoffed, “Such a trivial matter—any maid could be summoned for it.”

He’d been fooled too thoroughly by her, once believing her truly virtuous and magnanimous. One careless misstep, and he’d ended up in this pitiful state! He couldn’t help recalling what his old friend Sun Ruosi was always saying: “Women are as venomous as serpents, especially those in the inner chambers; they’re all jealous, their methods filthy beyond compare.” Now, thinking back, even the courtesan Yin Yin from the brothel had shown more honesty; their last meeting had ended in discord, but at least the girl was forthright—she said what she thought, never resorted to underhanded tricks behind one’s back.

A thought occurred to Qin Muchuan: “Let Qian Qian do it. Have her come in and attend to me.” He was determined to put Gu Qiulan in her place. In the past, he’d felt guilty for visiting the brothel on their wedding night, but now that the Marquis had found out, he might as well let everything fall apart. Women really were two-faced—gentle on the surface, who knew what they schemed behind closed doors. If Gu Qiulan dared to seek the Marquis’ support behind his back, then he would show her what it meant to be a husband, what it meant for a wife to uphold her virtue.

As Qin Muchuan waged a silent, bitter war against the scheming, shadowy Gu Qiulan in his mind, a soft, yielding voice broke his thoughts: “Very well. As you wish, husband.”

What? What had she just said? Qin Muchuan was momentarily stunned, lifting his head with some effort to look at her. She seemed no different than before; even her words were the same. Before he could dwell on it, Gu Qiulan had already left for the outer chamber. He strained his ears and could just make out her saying something about Qian Qian, something about her return…

A while later, Gu Qiulan returned and sat on a low stool by the bed. “Qian Qian will be here soon. Please be patient, husband.”

Qin Muchuan shut his eyes. What was this woman scheming now? Yes, she was always like this, fond of playing the dutiful wife. The family of a Deputy Minister really had fine discipline—masking one’s emotions was a skill even the minister’s daughter had learned to perfection.

Soon, Qian Qian arrived with Qiao Yun. Upon entering the inner chamber and seeing Qin Muchuan lying pale and prone on the bed, she burst into tears.

“Y-young master, you…” Qian Qian stumbled over, dropped to her knees by the bed, and covered her face with her sleeve. “Young master, how could you be hurt so badly? Does it hurt?”

“Qian Qian, your young master is thirsty. Help him drink some water.” Gu Qiulan spoke from above, gazing down at the little maid.

Qian Qian hastily wiped her tears, casting a quick sidelong glance at Gu Qiulan before humbly picking up the teacup by her hand.

“Young master, have some water.” Her voice was soft and pleasing, and Qin Muchuan found it somewhat soothing. As he drank, he looked up and noticed Gu Qiulan still sitting there, poised and composed, and anger surged in his chest. He began to cough violently.

Qian Qian quickly patted his back, but accidentally brushed against some of his wounds, and Qin Muchuan sucked in a sharp breath from the pain.

“Do you even know how to give water?!”

“Young master…” Qian Qian lowered her head in silent misery, tears brimming in her eyes.

I’m the one who’s injured here! Qin Muchuan was so furious he nearly turned green. Looking up, he met Gu Qiulan’s limpid, innocent eyes—no! For the sake of his pride, he would not let her trample him. “There, there, don’t cry. My wounds hurt, but it’s nothing to do with you. If you keep this up, it’ll only hurt me more.”

Qian Qian looked at him in astonishment. His gaze was full of tenderness, and she abruptly stopped crying, though a trace of tears still lingered on her cheeks, making her look all the more pitiful.

“Young master, I will take good care of you, please, don’t send me away again.”

“I’ve served you for so many years, and though I may have been elsewhere, my heart has always been with you. Now… now you’re so badly hurt, I—”

Qian Qian was about to say more when Gu Qiulan, who had been a silent bystander, suddenly asked, “Husband, are you still thirsty?”

Qin Muchuan felt as if a weight had been lifted from his chest. He was in agony, yet had to spare energy to comfort a little maid—truly suffocating. For a moment, talking with someone as poised and unflappable as Gu Qiulan seemed almost a relief, which only added to his frustration. Seizing on his injury, he said coldly, “No. Leave me. You can go now.”

As expected, Gu Qiulan seemed momentarily taken aback.

Qin Muchuan felt a surge of satisfaction and repeated himself, “Go. Let Qian Qian stay and attend to me.”

“Very well. As you wish, husband.”

Watching her decisive, unhesitating retreat, Qin Muchuan was so angry he could have spat blood. “As you wish, husband. As you wish, husband!” Since Gu Qiulan had married in, this was the phrase she uttered most often to him—and what had come of it?! The words grated on him like thorns, yet, try as he might, he could not find a single reason to refute her.

Damn her, Gu Qiulan was truly cunning!

“Young master?” Qian Qian, seeing that Gu Qiulan had indeed been driven out, was inwardly giddy, though her voice remained plaintive. “Please don’t be angry, young master. Your recovery is what matters.”

“Mm.” Qin Muchuan had little strength left. The mental battle with Gu Qiulan had exhausted him. He only wanted to close his eyes and rest, but Qian Qian kept chattering on: “Does it still hurt? I’m useless, I couldn’t protect you—I wish I could take the beating for you.”

“I know you’re a good girl,” Qin Muchuan replied weakly. He was so tired, all he wanted was sleep.

“I’m your personal maid, my life is yours, let alone such a small matter. Young master—” Qian Qian tried to pledge her loyalty again, but Qin Muchuan finally snapped, “Silence!”

After leaving the inner room, Gu Qiulan went to rest in the adjoining warm chamber. Qiao Yun, afraid her mistress would be upset, for once held back from making any sarcastic remarks about being outdone by a little maid.

But to her surprise, Gu Qiulan, as if reading her mind, said breezily, “My darling husband is injured so badly—what could he possibly do? If he were still capable of anything, I’d be quite impressed.”

Qiao Yun: …

She’d been wrong—there was no need to worry about her mistress. Curiosity got the better of her. “Miss, what’s your next move?”

Gu Qiulan bit her full, rosy lips lightly. “We’ll turn the tables.”