Chapter 10

Chapter 10: Everyone Said the Marchioness Had a Backup Plan

Su Yun Ting didn’t give Jing Niang a chance to fight back. He spat out his piece and bolted, leaving only a sour hush behind.

The crowd had arrived like a dark tide and left just as quickly, a noisy swell that vanished in the blink of an eye.

In the main courtyard, only Gu Nan Xi, Su Yun Yan, Su Xuan Ming, and Jing Niang remained.

Jing Niang stood with her spine rigid and her chin lifted, stubbornness radiating from hair to toenails.

“Madam,” she demanded, “this was deliberate, wasn’t it? You called them all here to pressure me—so I’d back off when I saw how hard it would be?”

She walked straight up to Gu Nan Xi, slow and steady. Her clear eyes held the smug certainty of someone convinced she’d seen through the scheme.

“Madam, I’ve never been afraid of hardship. I held my ground under pressure and stood out among a bunch of brothers. Why would I fear the mess at Marquis Manor?”

Then she drove the final nail in, voice ringing.

“Starting today, I’ll cover Marquis Manor’s food and the servants’ expenses! Even if I spend every last coin my family has, I won’t give up!”

She strode out of the courtyard like a soldier marching to war.

Su Xuan Ming loved that bold, unyielding edge of hers. He followed without hesitation.

Su Yun Yan stayed behind, collapsing against Gu Nan Xi’s knees, worry written all over her face. “Mother, what do we do? Jing Niang is going to turn this around!”

Gu Nan Xi closed her eyes and took a sip of dried papaya soup. The original owner of this body had been so slight that even after giving birth to one daughter and two sons, a certain part of her was still flat as an airport runway.

Fine. Drink more papaya soup. Maybe it would help.

“In the wrong direction, stubbornness isn’t perseverance,” Gu Nan Xi said mildly. “It’s refusing to turn back until you smash into the wall.”

She spoke as if she were talking about someone else, but the point landed all the same.

Perseverance was a virtue. Perseverance without a clear understanding was the roadblock that ruined people.

Back when Gu Nan Xi was in school, there had been a boy who wrote like a genius. History and politics were easy full marks for him. Physics and chemistry? Single digits.

Yet he’d insisted boys had to study the sciences. If he just kept his head down and worked harder, he believed he’d raise those scores.

Reality taught him otherwise.

If he’d gone into the humanities, he would’ve made the Top 10 without breaking a sweat. Instead, he insisted on the sciences and didn’t even make the cutoff.

Jing Niang was the same. She didn’t even understand what Marquis Manor looked like from the inside, yet she’d thrown herself into it headfirst.

Su Yun Yan stared up with wide, trusting eyes. “Mother definitely has a backup plan. I refuse to believe Jing Niang can escape your grasp!”

Gu Nan Xi patted her hair, fond and helpless all at once. This child had a head full of household scheming—yet somehow none of the brains for it.

Backup plan?

Gu Nan Xi didn’t have one.

If anything, she had only one skill: lying flat.

Marquis Yong Chang Manor was a broken ship already taking on water. Let Jing Niang stomp around the deck if she wanted. What difference did it make?

But Jing Niang’s thunderous efficiency didn’t win her loyal followers. It lit a fuse.

The servants pushed back hard.

Before long, Marquis Yong Chang Manor climbed right back onto Capital City’s gossip lists, becoming the favorite joke in teahouses, taverns, and noblewomen’s tea gatherings.

“Ha! It nearly killed me,” an egg seller crowed in a tea shop. “Yesterday, the buyer from Marquis Yong Chang Manor came to me. Fresh eggs? Didn’t want them. He insisted on the ones about to turn.”

“That’s not saving you from disaster?” another merchant laughed. “Weren’t those about to be pickled into salted eggs?”

The first merchant grinned ear to ear. “Exactly. One cash a piece. I sold the whole lot to Marquis Yong Chang Manor. But tell me—what’s going on with Madam Yong Chang? Back then, her bridal procession stretched ten li and shook the whole Capital City. Why is she pinching pennies now?”

His friend slid him a cup of tea. “You went out to source goods and missed all the good drama. The eldest young master of Marquis Yong Chang Manor is obsessed with that herb-shop beauty and has made a complete spectacle of himself. The Marchioness had no choice—she even handed the steward’s authority to the herb-shop beauty.”

The chubby merchant fumbled his teacup and nearly dropped it. “Absurd! Did they hire a matchmaker? Exchange name cards? Discuss the marriage properly?”

“None of it.”

The chubby merchant clicked his tongue. “Even common families have better manners than that.”

“Right? The moment the herb-shop beauty became steward, she dragged shop-keeping rules straight into Marquis Manor.”

The chubby merchant’s eyes lit with understanding. “So that’s why the servants in Yong Chang Prefecture are buying stinky eggs instead of good ones. If she set the purchase price at two cash per egg, and the servants want kickbacks, they’ll naturally buy the cheapest they can find.”

“Marquis Yong Chang Manor isn’t what it used to be, but it’s lasted for generations. Most of the servants were born there, raised there, and buried there. With an outsider running things like this, resentment was inevitable. That’s why the manor’s business is being aired everywhere.”

The chubby merchant sighed. “Tsk. A noble house leaking like a sieve. There’s only one like that.”

They weren’t speaking softly. Every word drifted upstairs into the private rooms.

In one room sat several noblewomen.

The Young Madam of Duke Cheng picked up a bite-sized Xi Chuan milk-sugar lion and ate it slowly before speaking. “This Madam Yong Chang doesn’t look as calculating as you all claim. She’s lost the steward’s authority, the manor’s reputation has gone to pieces, and those two still haven’t been separated.”

Madam Niu, the Nation-Guarding General’s wife, lounged on a couch like she had all the time in the world. “Just watch. The Marchioness definitely has a backup plan.”

The Young Madam of Duke Ji took a sip of tea. “Last night my mother-in-law analyzed it for me. Gu Nan Xi always plans ten steps ahead. There’s no way this ends here.”

The Young Madam of Duke Cheng snorted. “And what backup plan could it be? Jing Niang’s skin is as thick as a city wall. The whole city can gossip until their throats are raw—it won’t stop her from lunging at that fortune. If the Marchioness is trying to scare her off, she’ll fail.”

The Nation-Guarding General’s wife pressed another candy into her hand and chided, smiling, “Then let’s enjoy the show. Marquis Yong Chang Manor doesn’t belong to any of us.”

Next door, a group of students from Song Shan Academy were drinking and laughing.

“Brother Xuan Ming,” a handsome student drawled, fanning himself as he slanted a look at Su Xuan Ming, “I hear the one running your household is your sweetheart. You must be flush with cash these days.”

“Brother Shao Yan, I…” Su Xuan Ming’s smile wavered. “The rules at home have changed. I might not…”

A tall, burly student clapped an arm around his shoulders. “Brother Xuan Ming, don’t joke. She’s just a merchant girl. She’d never dare lay hands on all of Marquis Manor. This is clearly your work. Brilliant. Truly brilliant!”

The others whooped. One called down to the servant boy to order. “Ten clams. Five bowls of quail soup. And bring one serving of every signature dish.”

The servant boy bowed, cautious. “Young Master, clams are a thousand cash each this season. Quail soup takes dozens of quails per bowl—its price is no small thing.”

Cold sweat broke out on Su Xuan Ming’s back. He grabbed at his last shred of dignity. “Brother Shao Yan, Brother Fa Tian—we’re not many. We can’t finish all that. How about ordering less?”

Li Shao Yan didn’t even open his eyes.

Wu Fa Tian arched a brow. “This is the only way it matches Brother Xuan Ming’s status. Serve the dishes.”

“Yes, customer!”

The servant boy dashed off like a rabbit.

Su Xuan Ming stared down at the purse in his hands, the urge to cry rising in his throat.