Chapter 68: Xiao Yong and Xiao Mei
This novel is translated and hosted only on Bcatranslation
“Your Majesty,” Yu Zhi Yi said calmly, stepping forward. “I will write down my deductions and Madam Zhang’s expected reactions on this paper. You can compare my words to what unfolds to see if I’m correct.”
The Emperor gave a slight nod, showing no objections.
Moments later, a palace attendant brought over paper and a brush. Yu Zhi Yi shielded her writing with her wide sleeve, her other hand moving swiftly across the page. She finished quickly, set down the brush, and gently blew on the ink to dry it. Folding the paper neatly, she handed it to the eunuch, who presented it to the Emperor.
Madam Meng watched with a look of disdain. “Such theatrics,” she muttered under her breath.
Yu Jiao Jiao smirked, her eyes gleaming with anticipation. “This fool,” she thought, “even if she guesses something correctly by sheer luck, as long as Madam Meng denies it, who can prove she’s telling the truth? Predicting Madam Meng’s reactions? Utter nonsense. If she were truly so clever, why couldn’t she outwit me back at the Yu residence?”
The Emperor unfolded the paper and scanned its contents. His expression shifted ever so slightly. When the Empress glanced his way, he folded the paper and tucked it away. “I’ve read it,” he said lightly. “You may proceed.”
Yu Zhi Yi nodded, her gaze settling on Madam Meng before moving past her to focus on Duke Courage. “Duke Courage,” she began, her voice steady, “do you know how your sister died all those years ago?”
Duke Courage had been lounging comfortably, observing the proceedings with mild interest. He hadn’t expected the conversation to turn toward him—especially on such a sensitive topic. His expression darkened instantly. “If you’re here to cause trouble,” he said coldly, “leave the deceased out of it.”
A flicker of panic flashed in Madam Meng’s eyes, but she quickly masked it, her voice sharp as she added, “Lady Du, mind your manners!”
Ignoring their reactions, Yu Zhi Yi turned to the Emperor. “Your Majesty, with your permission, I’d like to tell a story.”
“A story?” the Emperor echoed, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes,” she replied. “All characters will be given pseudonyms to protect their identities.”
The Emperor leaned back in his seat, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. “Proceed.”
“Over twenty years ago,” Yu Zhi Yi began, “there was a noble young man named Xiao Yong. Although he had many siblings, he was the legitimate eldest son. Upon his father’s passing, he was set to inherit the family estate, while his brothers and sisters would receive smaller portions.”
She paused briefly before continuing. “Xiao Yong’s family was vast and influential. Every unmarried member was considered a prized match. Men sought to marry his sisters to align themselves with his powerful family, and women dreamed of marrying Xiao Yong himself or his brothers, hoping to become esteemed ladies of society.”
“Xiao Yong had an elder sister, born of the same mother—a woman who was not only beautiful but also kind-hearted, gentle, and virtuous. Xiao Yong held deep respect and affection for her.”
She let her words settle in the air before proceeding. “This sets the stage for my story.”
“After Xiao Yong came of age, countless women vied for his attention, but his family had high standards, and Xiao Yong himself was uninterested in matters of the heart. None of the young ladies caught his eye.”
“In the same city, there lived a modest family—one whose background couldn’t compare to Xiao Yong’s in the slightest. For their daughter to marry into Xiao Yong’s family was nothing short of a fool’s dream.”
“However, this family had a daughter with both ambition and determination. Let’s call her Xiao Mei.”
“Initially, Xiao Mei didn’t dare to hope for a match with someone like Xiao Yong. She didn’t even dream about it. But fate, it seems, had other plans.”
“One day, as she walked down the street, she happened to pick up a scroll of artwork that a servant had dropped. She intended to return it, but the servant moved too swiftly, and she couldn’t catch up. So she went to the shop the servant’s master had just exited, hoping to discover his identity and return the painting.”
“That careless servant belonged to none other than Xiao Yong.”
Madam Meng slammed her hand on the table, her face flushing with anger. “Enough of this nonsense!” she exclaimed. “I never picked up any painting, nor did I inquire about anyone!”
Though Yu Zhi Yi had used “Xiao Yong” and “Xiao Mei” as aliases, anyone with sense could deduce the true identities behind the names.
Duke Courage’s face remained unreadable; he neither confirmed nor denied his belief.
The Emperor and the courtiers leaned in with interest. “And then?” the Emperor prompted.
Even Du Zi Heng, who had been lost in his own turmoil, found himself drawn into the unfolding tale.
Yu Zhi Yi smiled gently at Madam Meng. “Madam Zhang, perhaps you believe that you’ve destroyed all evidence of your calculated approach to your sister-in-law, and that with the passing of the shopkeeper from back then, there’s no proof.”
“I’ve told you,” Madam Meng retorted, her voice rising. “I did nothing of the sort! My acquaintance with my sister-in-law was pure chance. We were not just sisters-in-law but also dear friends. Don’t tarnish our relationship!”
She had indeed counted on the lack of evidence to deny everything. Admitting the truth was not an option.
“A hundred secrets, and one slip,” Yu Zhi Yi said softly. “While you tore up the letters detailing your sister-in-law’s schedule and habits, and eliminated those involved after securing your position, there remains one piece of irrefutable evidence—left behind due to your negligence.”
She turned to the Emperor. “Your Majesty, Madam Zhang has a private estate on the outskirts of the capital. In the storage room, there’s a row of cabinets. Between the leftmost cabinet and the wall, a painting is wedged. That painting is the very one she picked up all those years ago.”
“It’s a portrait,” she continued, “and the subject is none other than the Duke’s sister.”
Duke Courage shot to his feet, his eyes wide. “Is what you say true?” he demanded.
Of course, he remembered that painting. He had painted it himself as a gift for his sister’s seventeenth birthday. That year, she had just become engaged, and the thought of her leaving filled him with sadness. He had poured all his emotions into that painting; it was etched deeply in his memory. He had always regretted not being able to give it to her.
Madam Meng began to panic, words forming on her lips, but Yu Zhi Yi pressed on. “Your Majesty,” she said, “I’ve written the location of that estate on the paper I gave you. If you send someone to search, they will undoubtedly find the painting.”
“No…” Madam Meng tried to interject, but Duke Courage shot her a cold glance. She felt a chill run through her, the rest of her words dying in her throat.
Duke Courage turned to Yu Zhi Yi. “If what you say is true,” he said slowly, “why didn’t she return the painting? Wouldn’t approaching me directly with it have been more straightforward?”
“Not quite,” Yu Zhi Yi replied. “At the time, you were solely focused on defending the nation, with no interest in romance. You dismissed all who came to propose marriage. It was quite the talk of the capital.”
She paused, letting her words sink in before continuing. “Madam Zhang learned of your identity from the shop and inquired about the woman in the painting from the shopkeeper. Discovering that the woman was your sister, and knowing of your deep sibling bond, she quickly realized that approaching your sister would be more effective than approaching you directly.”
“And she was right,” Yu Zhi Yi added. “She orchestrated a staged rescue, becoming your sister’s savior. Gaining her trust, she had legitimate reasons to visit the Yong Mansion. From your sister, she learned much about your preferences. For instance, knowing that you aspired to lead troops on the battlefield, she forced herself to study military strategy.”
She looked directly at Duke Courage. “When you discovered that she understood military tactics, were you not pleasantly surprised?”
Duke Courage hesitated, memories flooding back. He had been surprised. His requirements for a future partner weren’t stringent—as long as they shared common interests. And Madam Meng had met that criterion.