Chapter 85: Summoning the Ninth Concubine

At the entrance of the Qin family courtyard, Qin Mingyue stood with a gleaming kitchen knife in her hand, one hand on her hip, her face fierce as she shouted at the servants from Master Qian’s household.

“Heh! Qin Mingyue, let me tell you, you’re not the one who makes the rules in this Little Creek Village. The entire village belongs to Master Qian. If you dare to interfere with his affairs again, don’t blame us for showing no mercy.”

The short, chubby, and rather unimpressive steward, An, spoke arrogantly. He sat right at the Qin family’s gate, as unperturbed as a mountain.

“Lackeys! Don’t you dare cause trouble at my house. I, Qin Mingyue, am not afraid of your Master Qian. If you’ve got the guts, just try coming over here. I’ll hack you to pieces if you do! At worst, I’ll die with you!” Qin Mingyue was hardly one to back down; her domineering presence was as fierce as a tigress.

However, the squat steward An was unfazed. With a wave of his hand, several servants charged forward menacingly.

Qin Mingyue had only intended to scare them, but before she could even swing her knife, two servants had already subdued her.

“What are you doing? Let go of my mother!” Seeing several men surround Qin Mingyue, Qin Youtian, who had returned the night before after seeking out Hua Qinci, rushed over. He roughly shoved the men aside and shielded Qin Mingyue behind him.

“What do you think you’re doing? And who are you, anyway? These days, there are quite a few people bold enough to meddle in Master Qian’s matters. Are you tired of living?” the steward An, prompted by one of the servants, stood up and squeezed into the fray.

Catching sight of Qin Youtian, he seemed to realize something. “You must be Qin Youtian?”

“Yes,” Qin Youtian replied.

“Good, it’s just as well you’re back. As the saying goes, debts must be repaid. Please return this silver,” said the steward An with an air of superiority, producing an IOU.

“That debt wasn’t incurred by the Qin family. Why should we pay it? Whoever owes you money, go and collect from them!” Qin Mingyue, standing behind Qin Youtian, snatched the IOU from his hand, tore it to pieces, and, still unsatisfied, stuffed the scraps into her mouth and swallowed them, shouting furiously all the while.

“Mother, you shouldn’t eat that!” Qin Youtian tried to stop her, but it was too late.

“It’s nothing—just rough toilet paper, after all. If you’re still hungry, Master Qian has plenty more. If that’s not enough, I’ll have more sent to you free of charge,” the steward An said with swagger.

Qin Mingyue gagged repeatedly, mortified. Once, she had been a person of high status, unreachable by common folk. To fit in with the villagers and assert herself, she had learned to be as sharp-tongued as any of them.

Qin Youtian hurried to fetch water for her, and Qin Mingyue rinsed her mouth as she spat and drank.

The steward An tapped the large mole at the corner of his mouth with a finger and rolled his eyes. “Master Qian said if you don’t want to repay the debt, that’s fine. Hand over Miss Hua Qinci, and the debt will be written off. Go on, bring Miss Hua out. No, bring out Concubine Ninth.”

In the crowd, Hua Qinci made as if to step forward, but Qin Youtian shot her a glare, forcing her back.

She looked displeased. “Well! Let’s see how you handle this now!”

Hua Qinci recognized Steward An Fu from the Qian household. The last time he’d come, she’d been busy building a house, covered in sawdust and dirt.

“Miss Hua? Excuse me, but we don’t have any Miss Hua here. You’d better get your facts straight. Our family name is Qin, not Hua. Perhaps your Master Qian is mistaken?” Qin Mingyue spat at the steward’s face and shouted in exasperation.