Chapter Seventeen: Battle Aura

Qin Muchuan’s pride had been dealt a heavy blow by Gu Qiulan. The atmosphere in the room instantly chilled, and it seemed Gu Qiulan had finally come to herself.

Unwilling to let it go, Qin Muchuan asked again, “Qiulan, what was it you said were your husband’s virtues?”

“Uh…” Gu Qiulan was still breathless from the earlier kiss; just now… it seemed… she might have said something outrageous.

“My husband’s virtues…” Gu Qiulan’s smile was frozen.

Qin Muchuan looked at her with gentle eyes, almost gritting his teeth as he asked, “Besides my looks, what else?”

“And your figure,” Gu Qiulan blurted out. The next moment, her eyes widened, and she waved her hands desperately, “No, no, no, I didn’t say that!” She really had been dazzled by his beauty, speaking without thinking.

The once quiet Duke’s residence was suddenly stirred by a man’s shout—“Gu Qiulan! Get out here!”

Then came a woman’s plaintive cry: “Husband, I was wrong! But I really didn’t say that last part!”

With a creak, the study door opened. Qin Muchuan’s face was dark. “Who said that last part?”

Gu Qiulan grinned obsequiously, “Well… that time when you were bathing, you asked Leshan to hand you your clothes. Leshan told Yue’er, Yue’er told Linglong, and Linglong told me.”

Bang!

The door slammed shut.

Gu Qiulan clawed at the air, wanting to cry but unable to, for Qin Muchuan refused to open the door. She could only return to her room alone.

The maids waiting under the corridor saw Gu Qiulan return unexpectedly. Coupled with the earlier shouts from the study, several exchanged glances—Had the young master and mistress quarreled again?

“Weren’t they fine this afternoon? How did they end up fighting?” Yue’er wondered aloud.

Linglong tilted her head in thought, “It must be the young master’s fault!”

No sooner had she finished than the maids gathered around. “Why?”

Linglong replied, “You all know the mistress’s temperament; she’s the kindest in the residence, gentle and soft-spoken. Take you and me, for instance—has the mistress ever spoken harshly to us?”

“That’s true,” Yue’er said, rubbing her chin in thought. “Not only has she never spoken harshly, she’s gifted us plenty of lovely jewelry, and said seeing us all dressed up brings her joy.”

“Really? The mistress gave you jewelry?” The younger maids looked at them with envy. After Qianqian’s incident, they’d thought Gu Qiulan was jealous, but now, she was clearly good to the other maids.

Yue’er showed her jade bracelet, a gift from Gu Qiulan. Linglong pointed to her ear, where an exquisite earring hung, obviously valuable.

“So, it must be the young master’s fault!” Linglong was convinced Qin Muchuan had bullied Gu Qiulan tonight. “Everyone knows he’s got a tyrant’s temper—‘yield to me and prosper, resist and perish.’”

The maids looked at one another. Though the words were blunt, they fit Qin Muchuan’s reputation.

They looked back at Gu Qiulan, who was already walking away, her slender figure and forlorn posture cast against the silent, chilly night. Driven from her home by the young master… The mistress was truly pitiable! Only recently had she faced his cold demeanor, and now she’d been bullied again. Ah!

Linglong felt especially sorry for her. At first, she’d feared Gu Qiulan, but after the Qianqian affair, she found her amiable—far better than the unpredictable Qin Muchuan.

“Linglong, where are you going?” Yue’er called out as she saw her leave. “Mistress usually has Qiaoyun watch over her at night. What are you doing?”

“I’m going to make snacks!” Linglong said. “My mother always said, if you’re full, you won’t be sad.”

Meanwhile, Gu Qiulan lay slumped before her bronze mirror, her face twisted beyond recognition. Qiaoyun sat with her legs crossed, cracking sunflower seeds, spitting out the shells with a chuckle. “Tsk, tsk, you’ve only yourself to blame! What did I say before? Oh right, beware the honey trap. And look—though I’m a strategist worthy of Kongming, the general is just hopeless!”

“Get out, damn it!” Gu Qiulan clawed at the mirror, veins bulging on her hand. “I was just speaking the truth! And what’s wrong with having a beautiful face? That brat only dares to show me attitude because he knows I like him!”

“Why show off in front of me? If you’ve got guts, go tell your little beauty. Tell him it’s his good fortune you fancy him; he’d better clean up and lie on the bed, pronto!”

“Get lost! You know I haven’t got the nerve for that!”

“Look at you, what a mess.” Qiaoyun recalled how recently Qin Muchuan had called Gu Qiulan a wretched woman—how fitting those words seemed now!

Qiaoyun’s mocking words were the last straw. Gu Qiulan was about to get up and slap her when Linglong’s gentle voice came from outside: “Mistress, are you resting?”

Gu Qiulan’s rage melted away at that voice, replaced by tenderness in her gaze. Qiaoyun, though nauseated, hurriedly tidied up the room and stood respectfully aside.

Linglong entered, carrying a bowl of shrimp roe soup, topped with shredded chicken and shrimp, with shrimp dumplings, crisp lotus root, and assorted snacks on a wooden tray. Even before she entered, Gu Qiulan could smell the aroma, and her gloom lifted halfway at Linglong’s sweet smile.

“Mistress, you must be hungry after reading tonight. I made some Cantonese snacks, and the soup is from Yangzhou. Please try them and see if my cooking suits you.”

With tears in her eyes, Gu Qiulan’s wounded heart felt a hint of healing. “Linglong, you’re so kind. These snacks are so delicate—you must have worked hard.”

Linglong shook her head: “As long as you like them, Mistress.” She rolled up her sleeves, her fair wrists exposed, ladling soup and placing dumplings on a plate for Gu Qiulan, even blowing gently to cool them.

Smelling the food, Gu Qiulan realized she was truly hungry. With a beauty to comfort her, even after being spurned by the great beauty, at least the little beauty was here.

Gu Qiulan took a bite of shrimp dumpling; the tender, springy filling danced on her palate, and she smiled at Linglong, nodding approval.

Linglong was delighted. “As long as you like them, Mistress. Whenever you want to eat, I’ll make them for you.”

When Qin Muchuan returned from the study, his face still dark, he saw Gu Qiulan and Linglong chatting and laughing under the flickering candlelight, clearly enjoying themselves. After trampling his masculine pride, this woman dared to seek pleasure elsewhere.

Qin Muchuan snorted heavily; Gu Qiulan looked up in alarm, but he flung his sleeve and left without a word. Gu Qiulan was beside herself, nearly in tears.

“Mistress, don’t be upset,” Linglong comforted. “Seeing you like this makes my heart ache too.”

“Really?” Gu Qiulan asked, feeling aggrieved.

“Really,” Linglong replied earnestly, big eyes shining. “The young master’s temper flares up and dies down quickly—it’s not worth getting angry over.”

Gu Qiulan murmured her assent, though she still brooded over Qin Muchuan’s stubbornness.

Qin Muchuan was so angry he couldn’t sleep all night. His mind was filled with “looks, figure, looks, figure…” Damn it! Did the young master have nothing else to be praised for but his face and physique?!

He pondered all night.

Silence is golden…

By dawn, Qin Muchuan was still tossing and turning on the study’s bed. Finally, he sat up in a huff, got dressed, and decided to go out for some air. As he stepped out, the maids he passed bowed their heads respectfully, but once he moved on, they whispered and pointed behind his back. When he turned abruptly, they straightened up, faces reverent.

Qin Muchuan: …

Had something happened out of his sight?

Early that morning, not only the maids of Mingyue Pavilion, but even the new maids from Falling Petals Pavilion looked at him strangely. Qin Muchuan felt irritated—“What on earth is going on?!”

Leshan shivered, hesitating as he spoke, “Young master, I heard you and the mistress had another spat?”

“What do you mean ‘another’? Have I ever quarreled with her? Have I? Which eye of yours saw us quarrel?” Now, at the mere mention of Gu Qiulan or “mistress,” Qin Muchuan bristled.

Leshan hurried to correct himself, “Yes, yes, you didn’t quarrel—it was the mistress who quarrelled with you.” Then he muttered under his breath, “The mistress is so good, why can’t you just get along?”

“What did you say?” Qin Muchuan shot him a glare. “Spit it out—did the maids take the wrong medicine this morning? If you don’t talk, I’ll have you taste the stick!”

Leshan pulled a long face—innocent bystander caught in the fire—forced to explain, “Young master, don’t be angry. These aren’t my words, I don’t know where they came from. Anyway… everyone’s saying you bullied the mistress again, and last night she cried all alone in her room.”

“I…!” Qin Muchuan trembled with rage.

Leshan asked, “Isn’t that so? If you didn’t bully her, then what happened?” He waited, but Qin Muchuan offered no explanation.

Should he tell Leshan that last night Gu Qiulan praised him like that?

Qin Muchuan clutched his head, so aggrieved he could have wept. He was the wounded one, wasn’t he! In both body and soul!