Chapter 50
Mu Qing hadn’t expected that it would be under such circumstances that she would learn the story of her husband and his foster mother, Madam Feng. Or more precisely, the story between her husband’s birth mother and the mother of Sister Yanran.
This kind of thing really belonged in the realm of deep personal secrets.
She hadn’t thought that either her husband or Sister Yanran would care—that they would just speak of it so openly in front of her.
It touched her, but also left her a little embarrassed.
After all, she had always regarded her relationship with her husband as a contractual one, always prepared to part ways at any time.
She hadn’t expected that before the contract even expired, she would already be trusted to such a degree—opening up about one’s past like this wasn’t something people did casually. Only when someone truly considered you one of their own would they speak so freely.
As she listened to her husband recount the story of the past, Mu Qing was somewhat dazed.
But the tale was so dramatic, so full of twists and turns, that she quickly forgot any awkwardness and became fully immersed in the story.
Because it truly surpassed her expectations in every way.
It turned out that her husband’s background was no less dramatic than Liu Feng’s, whose origins—mysterious and convoluted—were only revealed in the latter half of the original novel.
Her husband’s mother was a survivor of a sensational case that shook the entire empire two decades ago.
Even someone like Mu Qing, who never paid attention to politics, had heard her father mention it a few times when she was a child… though he had quickly been cut off by her mother.
At the time, the incident was already over ten years old, yet still taboo. Though common folks had heard of it, very few dared to speak of it openly.
Her father had merely mentioned it in passing over tea, prompted by an old acquaintance—and even so, her mother scolded him for it for days. After all, Mu Qing had only been a few years old at the time.
Back then, the current Emperor had only just ascended the throne. Although now there were frequent rumors about his impending death, in his youth, he had once been a vigorous and outstanding man.
Unfortunately, compared to the iron-fisted and decisive reign of the previous Emperor, the current one was considerably softer and more gentle.
That gentleness may have been what the court needed then, amid chaos and upheaval, to stabilize the fragile dynasty. But twenty years later, that same temperament had become a serious flaw.
After the death of the Empress’s only son, the Crown Prince, the Emperor wavered and refused to name a successor, prompting his remaining sons to wage a brutal power struggle… This, too, had been a key plotline in the original novel.
Liu Feng was one of the beneficiaries of that chaos—he chose the right side, and soon rose to prominence.
But that was another story.
As for that major injustice from twenty years ago—it also had something to do with Liu Feng.
After all, the current Emperor’s father—the former Emperor, known for mercilessly slaughtering his rivals to secure his throne—had, over several years, executed over a dozen noble families, wiping out hundreds of lives.
Though each family had been sentenced to total annihilation, a few orphaned survivors always managed to escape.
Liu Feng was one of them.
So was her husband’s mother.
But compared to Liu Feng, her husband’s mother had suffered even more.
At the time of the purge, Liu Feng had just been born, an infant. But her husband’s mother had already been a blossoming young lady.
Not only was she in her prime, she was also famously beautiful—just catching a glimpse of her was considered a supreme honor in the capital.
Whenever word spread that Miss Han, daughter of Scholar Han, was making a temple visit or going for a spring outing, the streets and alleys she passed would be packed with young men eager for a look.
Unfortunately, her father—Scholar Han—was one of the first honest officials to be executed in that sweeping purge for daring to speak truth to power.
And because of that, Qin the Elder, now Headmaster of White Crane Academy, became one of the many silent officials in court, remaining mute for years.
He watched as one colleague after another was executed in the following five years.
When even his dear friend, Lord Du of the Court of Judicial Review, was killed along with his entire family, he finally broke—resigned his post, and returned home.
As Mu Qing listened to her husband speak of his mother, she began weaving together the fragments of information she had collected, combining it with her knowledge of the original novel to reconstruct the timeline of events.
And what she discovered was shocking.
Doing the math… it was entirely possible that her husband and Liu Feng were somehow related.
So then, her husband’s father must have been someone of tremendous influence—someone bold enough to harbor the daughter of a condemned noble.
And yet, for all his supposed passion, the man lacked resolve—he had the courage to defy the law for love, but not the spine to give that woman a proper title.
He let a noble daughter endure the disgrace of premarital pregnancy and forced her into hiding in a brothel… all under the laughable excuse of “the most dangerous place is the safest.”
Truly, Mu Qing didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
And her husband’s mother—Miss Han—was a devoted, sentimental woman.
As the daughter of a learned scholar, she was talented in every refined art, skilled in music, chess, calligraphy, painting, and poetry. Add to that her stunning beauty and gentle demeanor… she was the kind of woman easily seen as a prize, easily made a sacrifice in the struggles of the powerful.
Her husband had grown so emotional earlier because his mother had, indeed, become a sacrifice.
Mu Qing learned that when her husband was six or seven years old, his mother died in childbirth, trying to deliver a second child for that scoundrel of a father.
Which meant, for at least seven or eight years, Miss Han had hidden away in this small house under the name of Hundred Fragrance Pavilion, living as a secret mistress.
She bore one son, then tried to give birth to a second.
But the second never made it. She died, along with the unborn child.
In an era like this, where childbirth was akin to walking through the gates of death, maternal mortality was all too common.
Mu Qing thought of how her own mother had a difficult time giving birth to her younger brother… In fact, in the original novel, her younger brother wasn’t even supposed to exist.
Her aunt—Yan Hong’s mother—had died in childbirth too. Qin Qin’s mother as well. And now, her husband’s mother…
The mortality rate was so high, Mu Qing couldn’t help but feel a chill.
It seemed the more affluent the family, the more common such tragedies were. It was unnerving.
Her husband said this had happened over a decade ago, right in this house—and that made Mu Qing all the more uncomfortable. So that faint scent of blood… it had come from his mother.
If it had lingered even after all these years, it spoke volumes about how tragic and terrifying the scene must have been.
Mu Qing shivered unconsciously. Her gaze toward her husband was filled with growing compassion—poor child, he must have witnessed that blood-soaked scene as a child and been traumatized.
No wonder he was so averse to physical contact… and fainted at the sight of blood.
What kind of childhood had he even lived?
She heard that the night his mother died, he fainted on the spot and fell gravely ill afterward.
And then, at only six or seven years old, he was taken in by Madam Feng, the leading courtesan of Hundred Fragrance Pavilion, who had always cared deeply for his mother and him.
They never returned to this house, worried it would bring him pain.
Though many years had passed, her husband still hadn’t found the courage to return. Madam Feng had quietly come back to clean from time to time… until the day the pavilion caught fire, and she too was gone. After that, no one came here again.
Her husband had always known about this place, but never dared to enter.
After Madam Feng died, he had entrusted some trusted subordinates to maintain the house. And so it remained neat and clean—but it was still his emotional forbidden zone.
So what was it that finally gave him the courage to step into this place?
To face such terrible memories head-on… Had he truly prepared himself?
Judging from his earlier reaction—clearly not.
But he’d come anyway. Why? The answer was becoming more and more obvious.
Other than his elusive and absent father, who else could affect him so deeply?
If Mu Qing remembered correctly, wasn’t her husband back in town precisely to deal with certain matters involving his family?
It didn’t seem to be going well.
And certainly not pleasantly.
Thinking of that dignified stepmother she’d met before, Mu Qing felt a twinge of unease. Her gaze toward her husband softened with concern.
But unexpectedly, he steadied himself, forced a bitter smile, and said, “Miao Niang, don’t worry… It’s nothing. I just… I missed my mother.”
Seeing that rare vulnerability on his face, Mu Qing gently squeezed his hand and softly said, “It’s okay. I’m here with you.”
Such a simple sentence, but it seemed to bring great comfort to him.
Mu Qing let out a small breath of relief and was just about to speak again when Sister Yanran let out a quiet sigh and said, “At a time like this, Feng Qing… are you still not going to tell Ah Qing the truth?”
