Chapter 10
Chapter 10: One in Heaven, One on Earth—Can It Work?
That hair-raising, soft “shasha” sound finally stopped.
Old Madam withdrew her hand and, unhurried, set the carved hand-warmer onto the little side table.
The room fell so quiet that Xiao Man could hear her own heart—wild, frantic—hammering inside her chest.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Each beat sounded like a drum counting down to an execution.
She didn’t dare lift her head. She pressed her forehead harder to the ice-cold tiles and waited for the sentence to fall.
A long time passed.
Then an old, even voice drifted down from above.
“You may go.”
“Today, you won’t be needed.”
Xiao Man’s whole body went rigid.
Just like that… it was over?
Not needed?
Did that mean she’d be locked away? Sold off? Or… something worse?
A thousand dreadful possibilities detonated in her mind, yet she couldn’t force a single question past her throat. Fear had her in a vise.
All she could do was obey instinct. She gathered every scrap of strength and knocked her head down once more.
“…Thank you, Old Madam.”
Her voice came out dry, like grit dragged over wood.
She pushed up on trembling hands, swayed as she rose, and nearly crumpled again. She’d knelt too long; her legs were dead, useless as numb sticks.
She didn’t dare look at Old Madam. Head bowed, she backed out one step at a time, moving like a corpse that hadn’t realized it was already buried.
The door shut behind her.
The instant it latched, she sagged against the cold wood and slid down, boneless.
I lived…?
No. This was only a pause.
The calm before the storm was always the most terrifying.
Inside the room—
The moment Xiao Man disappeared, the still water of Old Madam’s face broke into a grin that bloomed all at once, like a chrysanthemum flaring open.
No—brighter than any chrysanthemum.
Those cloudy old eyes sparked with sharp, eager light. Where was the chill authority from moments ago? Gone, as if it had never existed.
She rubbed her hands together, unable to sit still, and beckoned toward the inner room where Xiu He waited.
“Xiu He, quickly!”
“You—go, quietly, and invite First Madam over.”
Xiu He blinked, at a loss.
Old Madam leaned in, voice clipped, each word pressed into place. “Remember. Quietly. Tell her I’m calling her. She comes alone—no one else. Not a single person.”
“Yes.”
Xiu He didn’t dare ask. She curtsied and hurried out.
Old Madam was left by herself, delight swelling until it was almost painful.
She even picked up the hand-warmer again, weighed it in her palm, and hummed an off-key tune, as pleased as if spring had arrived overnight.
Great-grandson.
My great-grandson.
Right in front of my eyes.
That precious grandson of hers—so detached from the world, chanting and worshipping all day, looking at people the way one looked at a block of wood—had finally, finally opened his eyes.
Who cared if it was a maid or a miss?
As long as she was a woman, as long as she could bear children, it would do.
Master Shi Neng had said there was a love hurdle in his fate. Old Madam had worried where that hurdle might be—only to have it delivered straight to her doorstep.
Heaven itself was helping her.
First Madam Wang arrived quickly.
She came full of suspicion. Her mother-in-law was acting secretive, even insisting she come alone. That never meant anything good.
Had something shameful happened in the manor?
Or was Old Madam about to put her in her place again?
With doubts stacked in her chest, she stepped into the Green Reed Courtyard.
“Mother, you called for me—what is it?”
Madam Wang bowed, every movement correct, every angle measured.
Old Madam seized her hand the moment she entered, smiling so wide she could barely speak. She tugged Madam Wang down into the chair beside her, acting as if they were as close as blood.
“Good news! The best news!”
Madam Wang’s scalp prickled at the sudden warmth. She forced a polite smile.
“What news could make you so happy, Mother?”
Old Madam leaned to her ear, voice lowered, pride and triumph barely contained. “That Buddha in our house has opened his eyes.”
“What?”
Madam Wang stared, thinking she’d heard wrong. “Mother… you mean Qing Xuan?”
“Who else?” Old Madam slapped her thigh. “He didn’t just open his eyes—he’s taken a liking to someone!”
Madam Wang’s heart flew up into her throat, then burst into bright, foolish joy.
He finally came to his senses?
Which noble lady had caught her son’s eye?
Minister Zhang’s daughter? Grand Academician Li’s legitimate granddaughter?
“Whose miss is it,” she blurted, “to have such fortune?”
Old Madam’s smile twitched—just a flicker—before she waved a hand, as if it were nothing at all.
“What miss? It’s a little maid, right under your nose.”
Madam Wang’s joy froze mid-breath.
A maid?
Her mind raced through every maid in the manor. Which one could possibly—
Old Madam watched her expression and, impatient with suspense, peeled it open.
“Who else? The Xiao Man in my courtyard.”
“What?!” Madam Wang jolted. This time she wasn’t pretending.
Xiao Man? That quiet girl with the neat face and the sealed-jar expression?
How could that be?
Old Madam, basking in her own triumph, tossed in the next shock as if she were feeding a fire. “And that maid doesn’t even want it! She was right here, kneeling, crying and begging, saying she’s nothing but a weak willow, not worthy of your son—begging me to spare her life!”
Madam Wang’s mind went blank with a loud, humming roar.
Their Buddhist Scion—admired by the capital’s noble ladies, held up like a distant star—not only had he fallen for a low-born maid, he’d been rejected?
It was absurd.
It was humiliating.
It was—
Wait. Rejected?
Madam Wang’s gaze shifted, turning strange and complex. Her voice came out low, as if she were speaking to herself. “Could this… could this be the love hurdle Master Shi Neng spoke of?”
Master Shi Neng had said the young master would face a love tribulation—only then could he see through the mortal world, or… fall into it.
But this target was…
Outrageous.
She gathered herself, turned to Old Madam, and forced her unease into something like reason.
“Mother, the gap in status… isn’t it too great?”
She pointed upward, at the carved beams and painted rafters. “Our family is up there.”
Then she turned her wrist and pointed down, pinky toward the floor. “That maid is down here.”
“There’s a world between us.”
If this got out, what would become of the manor’s reputation?
What would become of her, the one who managed the household?
Old Madam’s smile collapsed like a curtain dropping.
She looked at her daughter-in-law from the corner of her eye, cool and cutting. “How many well-matched clan daughters have you prepared for that Buddhist Scion of yours?”
“Zhang family, Li family, Wang family—each one ‘proper,’ each one ‘perfect.’ And did Qing Xuan spare them even a glance? Not one.”
She leaned in, voice sharpening. “Now he finally wants someone, and you’re the one getting picky?”
Old Madam’s tone climbed, rough and reckless, like someone who had waited too long and refused to wait any longer.
“If you look down on her, fine. This old woman will handle it herself.”
Her eyes widened, bright and fierce.
“Tonight, I’ll have someone knock that maid out, strip her, and toss her into your son’s bed. I want to see if he denies it once the deed is done!”
The words were so crude Madam Wang’s ears burned.
“Mother!” Her face flushed hot with shame and panic. “You… you can’t say such things!”
“Say such things?” Old Madam snorted. “Compared to my great-grandson, what do I care for ‘proper words’?”
She stabbed her gaze at Madam Wang.
“I can already feel a great-grandson in my arms. Are you not happy? Do you not want this manor to flourish?”
Her voice turned fierce, almost triumphant.
“I don’t mind the maid’s birth. As long as she gives me a great-grandson—forget a maid. Even if she were a beggar, I’d set her on a pedestal and worship her.”
Madam Wang’s chest tightened until it ached.
The logic was simple. The hurdle in her heart was not.
Letting a maid become her son’s legal wife was impossible.
But making her a concubine… with Qing Xuan’s temperament, that was even more impossible.
She twisted the handkerchief in her fingers, feeling the whole thing was rash and ridiculous.
“Mother,” she said carefully, forcing a strained smile, “please don’t rush.”
She tried to soften the air, to give it somewhere to go.
“How about I speak with Heir Lord tonight? I’ll test his thoughts first.”
“This is… too sudden. We should consider it properly.”
“And besides,” she added quickly, grasping for a delay, “now that he’s opened his eyes, he won’t close them again so easily. The maid’s contract is still in our hands. She can’t run.”
Old Madam’s expression didn’t ease.
It darkened.
Her eyes cut to Madam Wang—sharp enough to feel like a blade.
“Can’t run?”
“Madam Wang, you are the strange one.”
She spoke slowly, each word landing with weight.
“You used to hound me every few days, begging me to put someone in Qing Xuan’s room, desperate for him to give you a grandson. And now, when there’s finally good news, you’re the one hesitating?”
Her voice turned vicious.
“You pushed hardest back then. If it were up to you, my son would have taken a few concubines long ago—given Qing Xuan a few younger brothers and sisters, isn’t that right?”
Then she paused.
And fixed her eyes on Madam Wang’s suddenly bloodless face.
The next words dropped like poison tipped in ice.
“I don’t think the one who can’t bear children is my son.”
“I think it’s you.”
“Ever since Qing Xuan was born, all these years—your belly hasn’t moved once.”
Madam Wang stood as if struck by lightning, frozen from head to toe.