Chapter 49
Chapter 49: The Birthday Banquet Hides Traps, and the Countdown ? Heart Demon Goes Wild
Second Madam Liu stepped into her own courtyard with excitement written all over her face, the kind she couldn’t hide even if she tried.
“Yu Jiao! Yu Wan! Yu Ning! All of you—come here!”
Her voice carried straight into the outer room. The three misses heard and rose, moving toward their mother’s inner room.
Lin Yu Ning came in chewing half a bright red fruit, cheeks puffed. She spoke through a mouthful, innocent as can be.
“Mother, what is it? Why are you calling us so urgently?”
Second Madam Liu grabbed Lin Yu Jiao’s hand, eyes gleaming.
“Yu Jiao, hurry up and send an invitation to your best friend at the Qiu Manor—Eldest Miss Qiu.”
She paused deliberately, tone turning firm.
“Say it’s your little sister’s birthday banquet. Invite her over to join the fun.”
Lin Yu Ning froze mid-bite.
She spat the pit aside with a blunt ptui, then pouted, displeasure plain on her face.
“Mother, you’ve got the date wrong. My birthday is still more than two months away.”
She counted on her fingers, brows knitting tighter with each count.
“And besides, Sister Qiu is Second Sister’s friend, not mine! For my birthday, I want to invite Grandmother’s cousins, and Little Fu—the deputy general under Father’s command’s daughter!”
Second Madam Liu pinched her youngest’s chubby cheek, smiling as if indulging a child who didn’t understand the game.
“You silly girl. Why can’t that little head of yours turn? This year, you can have two birthdays.”
“One—your Eldest Aunt will throw you a grand banquet at her manor.”
“Then two months from now, I’ll throw you a small one here. Just family. Invite whoever you want.”
She leaned closer, voice lowering into conspiratorial delight.
“This time, we’re borrowing your name to choose a wife for your Buddhist Scion cousin.”
Lin Yu Wan, who’d been quiet, frowned. “Mother… isn’t Cousin only interested in that maid, Xiao Man? Eldest Aunt making such a fuss—won’t that cause trouble?”
“Trouble?” Second Madam Liu waved a hand as if shooing a fly. Her smile vanished, replaced by sharp contempt.
“We are a proper Heir Apparent’s Manor. Your grandfather fought alongside the Founding Emperor. Your father holds the seal of the Five Armies Command. Your uncle, the Heir Apparent, was appointed by His Majesty himself.”
Her lip curled.
“With a family like ours, are we supposed to let a maid become clan matron? Even if that maid is your cousin’s darling, so what? The legal wife position cannot go to a tea-pouring servant. If word gets out, will the Lin family have any face left? We’d be a laughingstock.”
Lin Yu Wan pressed her lips together and said nothing more, though something complicated flickered through her eyes.
Lin Yu Jiao, on the other hand, lit up as if someone had struck flint.
“Mother—you’re right!” She clutched her mother’s arm, voice trembling with excitement. “My friend Qiu Ru Ying is absolutely the best match for Cousin!”
“And her father is an upright civil official. If Cousin marries her, it’ll boost the family’s reputation—it’s a match made in heaven!”
Then she swallowed and asked what truly mattered.
“Besides Qiu Ru Ying… who else does Eldest Aunt plan to have Cousin meet?”
Second Madam Liu sipped her tea, tone almost casual.
“The Minister of War’s second daughter, Zhao Lü Liu. The Han Lin Academy Chancellor’s only daughter, Sun Qian Qian. And the imperial merchant Qian family’s eldest miss, Qian Shuang. Your Eldest Aunt says each one is excellent.”
At “Qian family,” Lin Yu Jiao nearly jumped.
“The Qian family? The one that burns golden-thread nanmu as firewood? I heard their miss mixes her rouge with South Seas pearl powder.”
Worry stirred in her—then she shoved it down, refusing to lose momentum.
“I don’t know the other two well, but Sun Qian Qian is petty. She’s not necessarily as amazing as they claim.”
Lin Yu Wan asked quietly, “Even the imperial merchant Qian family is acceptable to Eldest Aunt?”
Second Madam Liu’s mouth curved.
“It’s only a meeting, not an engagement. And I’ve heard that Qian family daughter’s dowry could cover half a city.”
Her eyes glinted.
“If we truly become in-laws with imperial merchants, your father won’t have to worry about war rations again.”
Lin Yu Ning’s eyes rolled thoughtfully. Her little brain spun fast—then she grinned.
“Two birthdays means two rounds of gifts.” She nodded to herself, delighted. “If I count it that way, I’m not losing at all.”
Second Madam Liu looked pleased. Goal achieved.
She turned and snapped at the matron nearby.
“What are you standing there for? Go to the storeroom and bring the best invitation cards. The date is three days from now—fast. Don’t delay the big matter.”
At the same time, First Madam Wang was already directing servants at full speed, preparing the “birthday banquet” as if for war.
The location was set at Drifting Cloud Hall—the flower hall closest to Lin Qing Xuan’s Auspicious Cloud Residence, only a few steps away. Her intention was so obvious it might as well have been carved into stone.
“Matron Zhou,” First Madam said from her grand chair, eyes full of calculation, “send invitations to my natal family as well. Invite more proper cousin misses. The more people, the livelier it is—and the more choices your young master will have.”
Second Madam Liu, unwilling to fall behind, made her own arrangements just as urgently.
She summoned cousin girls from her maternal side and ordered her steward matron without hesitation:
“Invite more official misses. Even distant relations are fine—just make up the numbers. Stuff Drifting Cloud Hall full. Ten, twenty people. The spectacle must be big.”
The happiest of all was Lin Yu Ning, the little “birthday star.”
She perched on her embroidery stool, counting on her chubby fingers with grave seriousness.
“When the time comes, I’ll bring three little maids. One to collect gifts, one to record the accounts, and one to stack the gifts up high so everyone can see!”
She was already imagining a mountain of presents, grinning so wide she nearly drooled.
Lin Yu Jiao remained in her boudoir, changing outfits before the mirror, plotting with every pin and ribbon.
Only Lin Yu Wan sat alone by the window, lost in thought.
Matching status—how heavy those words were. They were the mountain between her and Lu Chen, the reason neither dared pierce the thin paper between them.
Her mind drifted to the training grounds in Father’s camp, to that figure beneath the blazing sun—Lu Chen, sweat shining as he practiced his blade forms again and again. Dark-skinned, yes, but with eyes brighter than stars.
How was his training now? Had he been hurt?
She shook her head as if she could fling the thoughts away, but heat still crept into her cheeks.
Outside, mimosa leaves swayed softly in the wind, like the blue butterfly Lu Chen had once given her.
In the shadowed side of an unnoticed rockery, a fuzzy gray mist-ball poked its head out.
Tuan Tuan trembled with excitement.
“Heh-heh. With a game this lively, how could Lord Tuan be missing?”
It wiggled as if delighted by its own cleverness.
“Time to add some extra spice.”
Meanwhile, in the courtyard of the Auspicious Cloud Residence, Xiao Man squatted by the fish pond feeding koi, sunlight warm on her skin. Even the fish seemed livelier than usual.
Then, from the corner of her eye, she caught movement.
A few unfamiliar maids slipped in through the tightly shut side gate, each carefully carrying an elegant food box.
Xiao Man poked a sweeping little maid passing by.
“Do you know which courtyard those maids came from?”
The little maid leaned in, voice dropping to a terrified whisper.
“I… I heard they’re the Qian family’s maids from the west side of the city. They brought fresh pastries for the Eldest Young Master, asking him to try some…”
Xiao Man’s hand jerked.
Fish food scattered into the pond with a splash, startling the koi into a frantic scatter. Water sprayed up and spattered her sleeves.
A nameless fire shot straight up her spine.
She spun and stormed back to her room—and the moment she pushed the door open, she saw the wooden plaque again.
The Chastity Defense War Countdown.
It had been tampered with.
The carefully written “190” was smeared over with thick ink, and beside it, in even darker strokes, a sideways eight sprawled across the wood.
?
As if that weren’t enough, a crooked charcoal line had been scrawled next to it, dripping with smug malice:
You won’t last to the end anyway, so why fool yourself?
Xiao Man stared.
Then she snatched up the cursed plaque, trembling with rage—yet her mouth curved into a smile colder than ice.
“Fine,” she said softly. “You’re impressive.”
She narrowed her eyes, a dangerous gleam flaring in them.
“You love changing it. You love scribbling over it.”
Her smile sharpened.
“Then I’ll carve it into the wall. Let’s see how you scribble over that.”