Chapter Thirty-One: What Is It

Feng Yun’er’s cheeks flushed with fury as she heard Feng Qiuji deliberately refer to her as a courtesan. She strode forward a few steps and said, “What’s this? Just a few days as the Empress, and you’ve already forgotten your own elder sister?”

Feng Qiuji eyed her sister’s angry face and feigned surprise. “I thought this beautiful aunt was Father’s new concubine. So it’s my sister! Please don’t be angry, forgive me, won’t you?”

“Hmph.” Feng Yun’er knew perfectly well it was intentional, but hearing such words, her anger eased a little. She looked at Feng Qiuji with disdain. “So, as soon as Miss Qin is about to enter the palace, you slink back home?”

“Of course,” Feng Qiuji replied. “As the ancient saying goes, a noble person helps others fulfill their happiness. I’ve been kind-hearted since childhood, how could I bear to steal love away and break up a pair of tragic lovers?” Since her sister said so, Feng Qiuji accepted it, for it was the truth.

“All right, enough, you two!” Madam Feng could not bear to watch them squabble any longer. She interrupted, then turned to Feng Qiuji. “Qiuji, are you tired? Go and rest in your room. I’ll have your favorite dishes prepared to welcome you home.”

“My lady, what’s there to celebrate for a discarded Empress returning home? You spoil your daughter too much.” With that, Feng Yun’er cast a few contemptuous glances at Feng Qiuji and left.

“Xiaohui, take the young lady to her room.” Madam Feng instructed the maid and hurried away.

Feng Qiuji felt bewildered; it seemed there was nothing amusing about the Prime Minister’s household. She decided to ask Xiaohui about the family, so she wouldn’t be at a loss when meeting anyone.

After inquiring, she learned that Feng Yun’er was her second sister, born of the third wife. Feng Qiuji’s mother was the principal wife, yet she was not favored by her husband, the Prime Minister. The third wife, clever and calculating, had won his heart—but the Prime Minister was fond of Feng Qiuji, so her mother managed to maintain her status through her daughter’s merit.

“I heard the second young lady has feelings for Prince Xin,” Xiaohui said, pouring tea for Feng Qiuji and tidying her room.

“Pfft.” Feng Qiuji nearly choked. Someone actually liked Ling Mingxin? And it was her second sister? She’d always thought her arrogant sister was unmanageable, but now, hearing this, she found herself intrigued.

Who would have guessed that someone as fickle as Ling Zexin could inspire affection? Truly, tastes differ.

Such things were common enough in ancient times, though Feng Qiuji was simply unaccustomed to them.

At dinner, Feng Qiuji finally met her father—the legendary Prime Minister Feng.

He was a dignified man, and Feng Qiuji thought he did not look like a traitorous official. His features radiated righteousness, his temples were streaked with gray, and he wore a thick mustache, resembling the court ministers often seen in dramas.

Yet she was startled when, during dinner, she realized just how many concubines and children her father had.

A crowd gathered around a large table. Feng Qiuji was overwhelmed by the scene and didn’t know where to sit.

“Greetings, First Lady, Second Lady, Third Lady…” As siblings greeted the wives one by one, Feng Qiuji stood there, dumbfounded.

Xiaohui tugged at her sleeve and whispered, “Miss, go and pay your respects.”

“Oh.” Feng Qiuji responded, glanced around the crowded room, and decided to start with her own mother.

“Elder sister, it seems Qiuji has come back from the palace a little dull-witted,” someone remarked.

Feng Qiuji turned and saw a middle-aged beauty in blue, casting her a glance and whispering to Madam Qin with a sly smile.

Feng Qiuji frowned. Did she seem foolish?

She disliked this woman instantly.

“She is the Third Lady, Yun’er’s mother. She’s never liked the First Lady or you,” Xiaohui murmured in her ear.

As the saying goes, a tiger fallen to the plains is bullied by dogs. Feng Qiuji could see her mother had little standing in the household. Though she was the principal wife, the concubines did not show proper respect. Barely home for an hour, she’d witnessed her sister and the Third Lady being insolent, and her father, the Prime Minister, did nothing.

A pang of sadness struck Feng Qiuji’s heart. Why must men marry so many women? People always say even honest officials can’t settle domestic disputes—a drama with three women. Like the Emperor’s harem, so many women idle at home, did he not fear chaos in his household?

“Third Lady, you’ve never been in the palace, so you wouldn’t know. In the palace, even if you’re clever, you must pretend to be foolish.” Feng Qiuji lazily raised her eyelids and smiled at her. “If you have a temperament like yours, always stirring trouble, you’d be the first to die. Third Lady, you know the saying: the bird that sticks out gets shot.”

Her words made her attitude clear. She had no patience for such people.

Hearing this, the Third Lady’s face turned green with rage. She glanced at the First Lady, smiled bitterly, and said through gritted teeth, “I never knew when the First Lady taught her daughter to be so sharp-tongued.”

“And you alone have the right to be sharp-tongued?” Feng Qiuji retorted coldly, then found a seat. “I’m mild-tempered and avoid conflict, but that doesn’t mean I’m a fool. Mothers and siblings, please be careful in future—if you offend me and make everyone angry, it’s my fault, is it?”

“Enough, let’s eat.” The Prime Minister, silent until now, finally waved his hand, asserting his authority and signaling dinner to begin.

He had been watching Feng Qiuji closely. Though only a few months had passed, she had changed greatly, no longer the obedient, docile girl he remembered.

After dinner, Feng Qiuji picked her teeth and prepared to return to her room, but Madam Qin called her back.

“Qiuji, don’t go just yet.”

“What is it, Mother?”

“Your father wishes to speak with you. Go to his study.”

“Oh.” The study—she didn’t need to guess what the Prime Minister wanted to ask. Surely, he wanted to know the Emperor’s attitude toward him.

Xiaohui led her to the study, and Feng Qiuji entered alone. Pushing open the door, she saw the Prime Minister waiting.

“Father.” Feng Qiuji closed the door and bowed.

“How long do you intend to stay at home this time?” he asked.

“You know, Father, the Emperor intends to take Qin Ruyan as consort. There’s no place for me in the palace anymore, so I plan to have him depose me as Empress and pass the title to Miss Qin, so their union may be fulfilled.”

“Nonsense!” The Prime Minister slammed the table, his brows twitching in anger, startling Feng Qiuji. “I worked hard to get you into the palace as Empress, and now you wish to give it up so easily?”

“What else can I do, Father? Matters of the heart cannot be forced. The Emperor doesn’t love me—what am I to do?”

“There’s always a way. The Emperor’s harem is not full. If you try harder, bear him a child or two, he’ll be delighted, and your position will be secure.”

Hearing this, Feng Qiuji wiped sweat from her brow—such words sounded so odd coming from her dignified father. She would have accepted it more easily from Madam Qin.

The Prime Minister did not know that, though the Emperor’s harem was small, he was deeply devoted and had never favored his concubines. Feng Qiuji, despite being Empress, had not once served in the bedchamber, nor had any others. Without such favor, how was she to bear children? Even the cleverest woman cannot cook without rice.

“So, Father’s meaning is?”

“Stay home for a few days to relax, then return to the palace.”

This statement extinguished the last flicker of affection Feng Qiuji held for her father. Xiaohui had said he loved her, but Feng Qiuji saw it differently—he was simply using her, valuing power above all else.

Even the Prime Minister’s household would not keep her. Was she truly so pitiable, cast out from the palace with nowhere to go?

Feng Qiuji became even more determined to ask Ling Zexian for more money. Without it, how would she survive after leaving the palace?

“If that’s what Father wishes, I shall obey. I’ll pack and return to the palace tomorrow morning.”

“Stay a few days longer. You haven’t seen your mother in a while. Spend some time with her—she’s lived longer than you and can teach you much.”

“Yes, Father. If there’s nothing else, I’ll retire to my room.”

“Go on.”

Feng Qiuji could no longer bear to converse with the Prime Minister. Her impression of the household was now dreadful—what sort of people were these? Was there no one left in Ling Dynasty? She truly wondered how this Prime Minister ever rose to his position.

A brief aside: Another several days without updates…