It was just a small step over a threshold, yet it had cost her so much negotiation; Qi Yue couldn't help but sigh inwardly. How utterly humiliating. Oh, Madam Qi Yue, your position is truly precarious…

She fanned herself while walking, glancing all around, her eyes showing admiration. The courtyard was indeed arranged beautifully—martial and grand, yet retaining a sense of warm habitation.

“The Heir has been back for some time now. First, I was ill and couldn't come out, and now that I am able, I’ve been swamped with family matters and haven't had a spare moment. Today I finally have time to see if the furnishings are adequate and if anything needs adding.”

Qi Yue smiled, her demeanor regaining its customary serene indifference, showing not a trace of the sharpness she'd displayed moments before.

We certainly don't need you to worry about this, the maids thought simultaneously.

Qiuxiang merely sneered.

Regardless of what they thought, Qi Yue had already mounted the steps and headed straight for the main house.

This time, Qiuxiang did not try to stop her. In fact, she secretly hoped Qi Yue would linger a while longer. If you truly have the guts, just wait until the Heir returns…

For this very thought, she stopped the younger maids from reporting to the Madam.

Seeing A’ru enter, Qiuxiang then followed her in.

Qi Yue had already circled the room once, a hint of surprise in her eyes.

It’s different from the description of Jia Baoyu’s rooms in the book. It didn't appear overly luxurious, and there wasn't the slightest scent of powder in the air. It was clean, spacious, and surprisingly comfortable.

She looked at the framed bed in the sleeping quarters. The openwork carving on it was simple yet elegant, far handsomer than the bed in her own room. She couldn’t help but touch and examine it.

“Hey, A’ru, what kind of wood is this?” she asked softly.

“Huali wood,” A’ru replied in an equally low voice, simultaneously tugging at Qi Yue’s sleeve. “…Young Mistress…”

“If I could take this back, it would be worth a fortune!” Qi Yue exclaimed, turning to look at A’ru. “What is it?”

A’ru subtly gestured with her eyes toward four or five maids standing a few paces away, their gazes fixed on them, their expressions openly displaying ridicule and contempt reserved for country bumpkins who’d just arrived in the city.

Qi Yue coughed, composed herself, and slowly paced out into an adjacent side room. Here sat a Luohan couch, accompanied by a table, chairs, several cabinets, writing materials spread out, and a pair of swords hanging on the wall.

“Not bad, not bad, the arrangement is quite good,” Qi Yue nodded in approval, settling onto the Luohan couch. The embroidered cushion felt soft and exceedingly comfortable beneath her.

This Heir’s quarters, though unassuming in appearance, was clearly furnished with fine things. It truly exemplified the low-key luxury favored by nobility.

“Young Mistress, please have some tea,” Qiuxiang said with a smile.

Of course, as the head maid, she wouldn’t personally serve tea to the Young Mistress. She merely waved a hand, and a younger maid approached bearing tea.

Qi Yue smiled at her.

“Thank you, Miss Qiuxiang,” she said.

Qiuxiang returned the smile, accepting the thanks gracefully.

Qi Yue picked up the tea and sipped it, then began to mimic the common scenes from Dream of the Red Chamber dramas, asking when the Heir slept and what books he read. Qiuxiang’s expression grew increasingly impatient; her answers were brief and disjointed, and she occasionally glanced toward the doorway.

“A’ru,” Qi Yue set down her teacup, seemingly preparing to stand up.

“Young Mistress, please sit a while longer,” Qiuxiang quickly urged.

Don't leave yet, we haven't waited for the Heir, haven't seen the good show!

However, Qi Yue merely shifted her position, settling more comfortably. She picked up a book from the small low table beside the Luohan couch and looked at Qiuxiang with a trace of curiosity in her gaze when she spoke.

“Miss Qiuxiang, you seem eager for me to leave?” she asked with a smile.

“This servant wouldn't dare,” Qiuxiang replied quickly, her smile this time genuine and heartfelt.

Qi Yue smiled and ignored her, lowering her head to flip through the book in her hands.

“A’ru, go ahead and have someone bring over the bedding and the hair ornaments. We can set up the rest slowly,” she said, seemingly casually.

Finally, she said it. Finally, I heard it. A’ru’s heart had been pounding, waiting for those exact words. She stopped breathing for an instant.

The moment those words left her mouth, everyone in the room froze.

“Young Mistress, what did you say?” Qiuxiang asked in disbelief.

“I’m moving in here,” Qi Yue looked at her, perplexed by her reaction. “What’s wrong?”

Qiuxiang stared at her in utter disbelief.

“You… you…” she stammered, unable to form a complete sentence.

Qi Yue, not bothering with her, began issuing orders directly to the maids in the room.

“I’ve only just recovered from my illness and am busy with the household accounts; I shouldn't disturb the Heir’s rest by staying in this room.” Her gaze drifted over the tabletop, out the open window to the courtyard, finally settling on a suitably distant spot. “Have the third room on the east side prepared.”

Is she mad? Qiuxiang and the other maids stared at Qi Yue, this single thought consuming them.

“Young Mistress, are you joking?” Qiuxiang managed to ask, stuttering.

“Joking? Why would I joke with a mere maid like you?” Qi Yue scoffed, returning the look with the very same subtle, half-smile she had used before.

That tone left no room for misunderstanding…

Shame and annoyance flashed in Qiuxiang’s eyes.

“Young Mistress, then I shall take you seriously,” she said, dropping her smile and straightening up.

“Take it seriously? I’m not standing around with nothing better to do,” Qi Yue glanced at her, then addressed A’ru. “Don’t bother moving the furniture. Order new things from the storeroom.”

A’ru replied with her head bowed.

“Young Mistress,” Qiuxiang interrupted Qi Yue, raising her voice.

Qi Yue paused her speaking and looked at her.

“Young Mistress, you cannot stay here,” Qiuxiang said, her face cold.

Qi Yue put down the book she was holding.

“Why not?” she asked with a smile.

“Because the Heir does not permit you to stay here,” Qiuxiang declared, lifting her chin.

“Is that so?” Qi Yue was neither hurried nor annoyed, merely smiling at her. “I doubt it? How could that be?”

Qiuxiang felt like her teeth were grinding to dust.

The Heir detests you, looks down on you! What are you? A beggar, an orphan! You should be thanking the heavens you have a place to sleep in the Marquis of Dingxi’s estate, and yet you dare claim you are moving into the Heir's courtyard! How utterly… shameless! Don't force me. If you push me further, I really will reveal it! But you are the one discarding your own modesty!

“Because the Heir ordered it,” she forced the words out through clenched teeth.

Qi Yue still smiled.

“He never mentioned it to me,” she said cheerfully.

Because the Heir doesn't even want to see you, let alone speak to you! You must be dreaming, Qiuxiang screamed internally.

“It’s fine. When he returns, I’ll ask him,” Qi Yue dismissed the matter with an unconcerned wave of her hand.

Qiuxiang froze. What did she say? Ask the Heir when he returns?

She glanced over to see Qi Yue already buried in her book again… Read a book? How many characters does she even recognize? Rumor had it that the Old Madam had specifically hired the best tutors to teach her reading and writing, but people in the Old Madam’s quarters whispered that she still couldn't recognize more than a few basic characters.

“Miss Qiuxiang, what should we do?”

As Qiuxiang exited the room, she was immediately surrounded by the other maids and older female servants. They had all overheard the conversation inside, and A’ru had, in fact, already gone to fetch the bedding.

“Is she really moving in?” they asked one after another.

Qiuxiang felt a heavy stone lodged in her chest, struggling to breathe. She glanced back at the room, then recalled the incident that had amused the entire courtyard earlier that day. Back then, she and the younger maids had laughed and watched the spectacle, never imagining the drama would soon land upon their own doorstep.

They all said this Young Mistress was so timid she didn't dare cry loudly, quieter than a kitten. But what she saw today was no kitten; she was clearly a tiger—a tiger descending the mountain, fierce and determined.

“We were all handpicked by the Madam for the Heir. Now that the Heir is away, we can’t even guard the entrance, allowing ourselves to be defiled by this person. What face do we have left to stay here?” Qiuxiang said through gritted teeth, twisting the handkerchief in her hand. With a decisive flick of the cloth, she commanded, “Block the door! Do not let them enter!”

Meanwhile, in Rong’an Courtyard, Xie Shi handed a bowl of sweet soup to Chang Yuncheng, who was lounging on the kang.

“Get up and try some,” she said with a smile, playfully swatting his propped-up leg. “Look at you, careful your father sees you acting like this; he’ll say you have no refinement.”

“Refinement? What good is refinement?” Chang Yuncheng replied carelessly, resting his head on his hands.

Xie Shi showed no displeasure; her eyes were filled entirely with warmth.

“Alright, stop spouting nonsense. Get up and eat,” she instructed.

Chang Yuncheng sat up straight, settling cross-legged before the low table.

“When I was away, the thing I missed most was Mother’s egg-flower soup,” he laughed, picking up the bowl and pouring half of it directly into his mouth, bypassing the spoon.

“My boy, it’s hot!” Xie Shi cried out, quickly trying to stop him.

Chang Yuncheng had already finished half the bowl, laughing heartily at Xie Shi.

“When I’m out there, I can eat things burning hot or freezing cold,” he said dismissively.

Xie Shi looked at him, her eyes suddenly turning red.

“I have failed you…” She raised her hand to gently stroke Chang Yuncheng’s sharply sculpted face. “If you keep saying that, you’ll bring misfortune upon me. It is all my fault…”

“Aunt,” Chang Yuncheng reached out and clasped her hand, his expression serious. “If you speak like that again, you are surely cursing this humble child.”

Xie Shi managed a smile.

“Alright, eat quickly.” She patted his hand and sat beside him, watching as Chang Yuncheng devoured the rest of the soup in a few gulps.

The mother and son spoke casually, but the murmurs of maids and servants outside the door could be heard—a restless, chattering noise.

“What is it?” Xie Shi’s expression darkened as she called out over the closed lattice door.

The noise outside ceased instantly. A’luan hurried in, her face anxious and hesitant, clearly restraining herself from speaking immediately.

“What’s wrong?” Xie Shi asked.

Chang Yuncheng, having finished his soup, simply lay back down, completely ignoring the extra person in the room.

“Madam, over at the Heir’s courtyard… the Young Mistress is causing a scene for some reason,” A’luan said softly, glancing at the young man half-reclining on the kang.

Chang Yuncheng’s body, which had just relaxed, instantly stiffened.

“What?” He sat up, frowning at A’luan.

“What happened?” Xie Shi also frowned and inquired.

“It seems Qiuxiang somehow provoked the Young Mistress, and the Young Mistress’s maid has come over. The two parties are causing a ruckus in the courtyard,” A’luan reported, her own cheeks flushing slightly.

From the maids’ descriptions just heard, the scene over there was quite lively—a truly rare event in the history of the Marquis of Dingxi’s estate since its founding. Speaking of rarities, quite a few unusual things had happened in just these few days, and the Young Mistress was at the center of every single one.

“She’s really turning heaven and earth,” Xie Shi said, her face turning ashen as she stood up.

Chang Yuncheng moved faster than her.

“That wretched woman…” he ground out, rolling off the kang and striding purposefully toward the exit. “Mother, I’ll go take a look.”

Before his words had fully faded, he was gone, leaving only the rustle of the beaded curtain.

Xie Shi’s expression softened, and she slowly sat back down.

“Madam, shall this servant go and see?” A’luan hesitated, seeking permission. The Heir had a volatile temper; if he became truly enraged, he might do anything.

“No need. She brought this upon herself; she deserves it,” Xie Shi said with a faint smile, picking up a string of Buddhist beads and slowly turning them. “Later, when Cheng-ge’er has driven that woman away, you can go over with people and send her to the estate overnight, that will be the end of it.”

……………………………………………………

Recommend Madam of Full Measure

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