The street outside Qianjin Hall was bustling again, as if celebrating a major festival. Some people, still holding their breakfast bowls, stood in the crowd, peering inside. "…The last time there was a commotion, someone was nearly killed. Is it something like that this time?" A newcomer inquired. "No," someone informed him. "Then what is it?" the newcomer asked, puzzled. The first person didn't reply; to be precise, they weren't entirely clear why the disturbance had started again. What was the deal with this Qianjin Hall? Had they accidentally offered sacrifices to the wrong Ancestor, perhaps switching to some troupe of actors?

"Why shouldn't we smash it?" a man bellowed, glaring at the assembled people from Qianjin Hall. "This is the property of our Marquis Dingxi's Estate. Forget smashing it—if I decided to tear it down, what could you possibly do about it?" "This belongs to Young Madam Qi's…" A disciple couldn't help but cry out, instinctively covering his face, clearly having sustained injuries in the previous skirmish. The man had been waiting for exactly that response. Hearing it, he burst into loud laughter. "Young Madam Qi?" he sneered. "And whose young madam might that be? We have no young madam in our household!" What? The disciples present were stunned, and the noise immediately died down. "Sir, please, come this way. Let's discuss this calmly," Liu Pucheng said hurriedly, laced with evident nervousness.

Most of the disciples at Qianjin Hall were unaware of the matter between Qi Yue and the separation. Even though it was a divorce (heli) and not a dismissal in disgrace (xiu), to the common world, there was little difference. People would only assume the fault lay with the woman. They could not allow this man to reveal the truth in public; how could Madam Qi maintain her standing afterward? While the matter could not be concealed forever, they could delay its announcement, especially not in such a public setting. Liu Pucheng bowed to the man with a sense of unease and trepidation.

Seeing Liu Pucheng’s reaction, the man couldn't help but feel a swell of pride. He was merely an ordinary steward at the estate, usually managing the stables and transport. These external matters shouldn't have fallen to him, but early that morning, everyone in the compound was running about because the Marquis needed people sent out on an errand, and no one could be found. The Head Steward was supposedly suffering from stomach issues after overindulging the previous night and couldn't get out of bed. Several other capable stewards had either twisted an ankle or were down with a cold—in short, everyone was either deathly ill or inconveniently lame, finding any excuse not to go out. Marquis Dingxi was roaring curses at home. No one present was a fool; even a blind man could see they were dodging a task. What task was so important it warranted this? Smashing the shop bought by the former Young Madam? Dealing with a young madam driven from the household? That woman had been arrogant, yes, but only because she had the backing of the Marquis and the estate before. Now that she’d been swept out the door, she was not only worthless but an enemy of the Marquis Dingxi Estate. How could she possibly still be arrogant?

The man deeply despised these stewards who used to bask in undeserved luxury and profit. See? When they were actually needed, they all folded like weaklings. He had volunteered to bring the estate guards, though the guards themselves were a motley crew, but they were sufficient for a mere little shop. Look, what was there to fear? What could these people do? This was their property; who were they to interfere? He was certain that upon returning, his own post would be upgraded.

"Why go aside to talk? What can’t be said out here?" the man sneered, turning his gaze toward the surrounding onlookers. "This shop was originally purchased by the Young Madam of Marquis Dingxi’s Estate, so naturally, it belongs to our Marquis Dingxi’s Estate, doesn't it?" Of course, the idle bystanders shouted their agreement, egging on the spectacle. "So, we can do whatever we want with this shop?" the steward declared loudly, tossing his head back. "Moreover, the Young Madam is now a discarded wife of our Marquis Dingxi’s Estate."

The moment those words left his mouth, the lively crowd fell silent. What? Liu Pucheng raised a hand to rub his face, tasting only bitterness. Poor child…

"You're talking nonsense!" A disciple was the first to react, shouting out loud. The steward let out a cold laugh. "Have you ever seen someone lie about a matter like this?" he countered. Indeed, they had not… The quiet crowd instantly erupted into a fresh roar of noise. Heavens, the divine physician Young Madam was dismissed! Heavens, Marquis Dingxi’s Estate didn't want her anymore! The street exploded into chatter.

It was at this precise moment that Qi Yue walked up. Yuan Bao, following closely behind her, looked pale. He turned to look at Qi Yue, only to see the woman’s expression completely calm. "Yuan Bao, see that one? The one sticking his neck out? Hit him hard!" Qi Yue tilted her head toward him, pointing at the man preening in the center of the fray, and instructed him. She intended to add a reassurance—Don't be afraid, I'm here—but before she could speak, Yuan Bao had already charged forward.

"…Why shouldn't I smash my own shop? Forget smashing it, tearing it down for fun, what of it—Ouch!" The man was speaking smugly when suddenly someone lunged at him. Before he could clearly see, a broom slammed heavily onto his head. Sprigs and dust scattered, causing the man to choke and stumble forward. "Who—" he shrieked, but as soon as the word left his mouth, the broom rained down upon him again. The guards finally snapped to attention and moved forward with their clubs, but the guard at the very front abruptly stopped. Those behind him, not understanding why, bumped into him. "What are you doing? He’s just a half-grown kid, you’re already scared?" someone behind them chuckled mockingly. The man in front wasn't laughing; he was staring toward the crowd. "Young Madam…" they murmured softly.

Although Yuan Bao was just a boy, he had street smarts. The steward struggled mightily to wrest the broom away. The smugness had completely vanished from his face; his hat was knocked off, his hair was a mess, his face was scratched, and his body was covered in dirt. "Pah," the steward spat out the dirt in his mouth. He ignored the assailant now kicked aside and, seeing no one had rushed to help after such a long time, turned back in exasperation to curse, "Are all of you dead?" The guards looked down and averted their gazes. Yuan Bao prepared to attack again. "Yuan Bao, enough," Qi Yue called out.

Hearing her voice, the steward looked over and finally saw a woman standing before him, holding a door bolt resting on the ground. Beside her stood a man dressed as a house attendant, holding a stool menacingly. "Young…" Seeing the woman’s faintly smiling expression, the steward instinctively started to kneel and call out, but a jolt sobered him. "Madam Qi…" He straightened his posture and said in a flat tone. "How could you allow someone to commit violence?" he declared loudly. "What are you trying to do?"

Qi Yue’s gaze swept to the side. The people of Qianjin Hall looked wretched; the artisans appeared terrified. Looking back at the shop, the interior, already messy from ongoing construction, was in utter chaos, with various craftsman tools scattered about and newly made doors and windows shattered. Qi Yue took a deep breath and stepped forward. "…Madam Qi, this is…" The steward was still speaking loudly when suddenly a guard behind him sharply turned his head, as if he couldn't bear to watch. "What am I trying to do?" Qi Yue stopped right in front of the steward and, raising the door bolt, struck out. "What I want to do! What I want to do!" As she spoke, her hands delivered heavy, successive blows. The steward had not expected the woman to attack without a word. He hastily raised his arms to block, but after taking several strikes, he stumbled back a few steps. Fortunately, Qi Yue did not press the attack, and he managed to regain his footing in his panicked disarray.

Someone in the crowd couldn't help but let out a laugh, which quickly spread. Good hit! The hangers-on shouted. They didn't care who hit whom; as long as someone was being beaten, it was entertainment. "Now you know what I want to do?" Qi Yue planted the door bolt back on the ground and looked at the steward. The steward touched his scraped forehead, feeling a mixture of rage and shame. "Are all of you dead?" he roared, turning to curse his men fiercely. The guards lowered their heads and looked away. "Fine, fine," the steward pointed his finger, cursing them as useless trash. "Afraid of her? Why are you afraid of her? She is no longer the Young Madam of our Marquis Dingxi’s Estate!" That was factually true… Some guards shifted, hesitantly moving to stand beside the steward. Once one took the lead, the others followed suit. The steward finally relaxed, turning to face Qi Yue, resulting in a tense standoff. "Madam Qi, I spoke correctly, didn't I?" he said resentfully. "Out of consideration for you being a woman, I won't press the matter, but watch yourself next time. Our Marquis Dingxi’s Estate is not to be trifled with!"

The moment his words ended, Qi Yue surprisingly raised her hand and swung the door bolt at him again. Luckily, the steward was on guard and ducked low to avoid the blow. Although the guards were near him, none made a move to block; instead, they ducked along with him. Another burst of laughter erupted from the crowd. "You!" The steward was mortified, glaring and shouting. "What about me? I wasn't paying attention. How exactly will you 'not be easy to talk to'?" Qi Yue asked with a cold smile. This woman! Shouldn't this woman be hidden away, weeping at home? Shouldn't she be too ashamed to show her face? Where did she get the nerve to come out and hit people! "Do you know why our Marquis Dingxi’s Estate doesn't want her anymore?" the steward suddenly shouted to the crowd. "Such a malicious shrew! She deserved to be cast out!" The murmurs in the crowd grew louder, and more people began pointing at Qi Yue. "Madam Qi, please, don't say any more," Liu Pucheng pleaded, his expression filled with worry. The other disciples were the same—beyond concern, there was mostly sorrow, sadness, and anxiety. Dismissed… Driven out… No longer the status of the Marquis’s Young Madam… What would become of them later…?

"And so what if I was?" Qi Yue stepped forward, standing at the doorway. "Does that give you the right to smash my shop as you please?" "This isn't yours! This belongs to Marquis Dingxi’s Estate!" the steward shouted back with a cold sneer. "Didn't you bother to ask clearly when you arrived?" Qi Yue looked at him and smirked. "Who paid for this shop?" Who paid? No matter what, it couldn't have been an outsider. As long as the money came from someone in the Marquis Dingxi household, it belonged to Marquis Dingxi’s Estate! "Madam Qi, these words are pointless. You should move aside quickly so we can finish the job and report back; the Marquis is waiting," the steward sneered. Qi Yue stood at the entrance, watching him. "You dare!" she said lightly.

Yuan Bao picked up the broom and approached, and the man holding the stool hesitated for a moment before stepping up beside them. The steward’s face flushed scarlet. Are you threatening me with three children—one small boy, one young boy, and one woman? If I let myself be scared off by you lot, I might as well not go back! "Men, smash it!" he yelled, waving his hand. The guards looked at each other; no one stepped forward. "You people, have you forgotten what your surname is?" the steward roared. "Whose food do you eat?" That hit home. The guards finally began to move forward. "Madam Qi, please step aside," the steward said arrogantly, lifting his head. Behind him, the guards stood in a line, brandishing their clubs, which they positioned in an aggressive stance as he spoke. Qi Yue said nothing, remaining perfectly still.

The street suddenly fell silent. Everyone watched the two sides—one clearly mismatched in strength—in a tense confrontation. The lively atmosphere abruptly turned heavy and strained; the timid even held their breath. There is one more chapter coming RS