Chapter 31: What Exactly Is the Intention

Yunjiao covered her mouth with her hand, keeping her distance. Her behavior did not seem out of place; after all, she was young and a girl, and it was only natural for her to be repulsed by a place like a latrine.

Even though they were husband and wife, Qian Xianglan felt she could not simply ignore the situation. She covered her nose and mouth, stepped toward the edge of the latrine, and glanced inside, discovering that the latrine seat was indeed missing. It had clearly fallen in along with the man.

At that moment, she felt not a shred of worry, but rather a surge of relief—even a flicker of anticipation. How wonderful would it be if he simply drowned like that?

But if he were lucky enough to survive... the thought made her shudder involuntarily.

She turned and commanded her maid, "Hurry, go to the front and call for some menservants!"

The servants arrived quickly. Yunjiao had already retreated, but even from the front, she could hear the commotion in the backyard and smell the foul stench wafting through the air.

After a long and arduous effort, the servants finally dragged a disoriented Shen Changdong out; he was wearing nothing but his undergarments and was reeking of filth.

Seeing him unconscious, the servants were reluctant to touch the grime covering him. They devised a plan: they broke the ice on the nearby river, scooped up water into wooden buckets, and hauled them over to douse him, hoping to wash away the worst of the filth first.

They repeated this process a dozen times, but Shen Changdong remained limp as a dead dog, motionless and unresponsive.

Once the servants felt he was sufficiently rinsed, they lifted him up and carried him inside. Even after the rough washing, the stench was impossible to mask, carried far away on the breeze.

Even Yang Suhe, who usually couldn't wait to cling to Shen Changdong, was driven three yards away by the foul smell.

Yunjiao followed Qian Xianglan to her courtyard. Watching Shen Changdong being carried in, looking deathly, she figured he hadn't sustained any fatal injuries. Yet, in the bitter depths of winter, falling into a latrine, wallowing for so long in nothing but undergarments, and lying out in the freezing cold for at least half an hour—even if he survived, he would surely suffer for it.

Although she hadn't truly avenged her grandmother, the sight of Shen Changdong in such a wretched state was quite gratifying.

Qian Xianglan ordered him to be taken to the washroom, where a large tub of water was prepared for him to soak in.

Yunjiao watched from a distance as he was carried inside, then returned to Qixia Court.

All the news that followed was gathered by Jianjia.

Once soaked in hot water, Shen Changdong regained consciousness. He complained incessantly of a headache, claiming he didn't know who had pulled him from the bank only to strike him with a club, and his ankle was throbbing with pain.

A physician was soon summoned. He reported that the injury to the back of his head was merely some bruising and nothing serious, and his ankle was only sprained. A prescription for circulation-boosting medicine would suffice. However, having been frozen for so long, a bout of pneumonia was likely inevitable.

Upon hearing this, Yunjiao remained silent for a long time. She was disappointed; she hadn't expected that after so much effort, she had only managed to scratch the surface of that beast. She felt a pang of unwillingness.

But after a moment, she calmed herself. If it didn't work this time, she would just try again. She would simply have to be more cunning. Did he really think his luck would hold every single time? Could Yang Suhe really follow him around every day?

After that day, with his head injury, sprained ankle, and severe cold, the physician advised that Shen Changdong would be bedridden for at least a month.

Yunjiao felt a wave of joy upon hearing this. Now she could enjoy some peace; she wouldn't have to put on a show in front of that beast every day. Life would be much more comfortable and carefree.

However, three days later at noon, her peaceful days were shattered.

Her second aunt, Madam Ding, arrived at Qixia Court with a beaming smile.

Seeing her radiant face, Yunjiao felt a chill. If her second aunt were cold or throwing a tantrum, she could handle it. But arriving with a smile? She couldn't fathom what the woman was plotting.

She turned the possibilities over in her mind, though her face remained impassive. She performed a graceful bow as usual: "Greetings, Second Aunt."

"Yunjiao, dear," Madam Ding stepped forward. "Oh, you've been home for a while now; no need to be so formal with your aunt!"

Seeing her being so polite, Yunjiao nearly doubted her own ears.

Maintaining her composure, she offered a gentle smile: "Second Aunt, you are too kind, but I am the junior, and it is only right to show respect to my elders."

She had long since experienced the methods of this second aunt. Her words were sweeter than honey, but if Yunjiao truly stopped showing respect, by tomorrow, the entire city of Laizhou would know that the daughter of the Ba family lacked manners.

She wasn't foolish enough to fall for such a trap.

"Such a sensible and well-behaved child," Madam Ding’s smile widened. She even stepped forward to take Yunjiao's hand, feigning maternal affection. "I only grow fonder of you the more I see you. It was my fault in the past; I shall treat you well from now on."

Yunjiao was not flattered; instead, she felt a sense of dread. Had her second aunt also taken a blow to the back of the head while out today? Why else would she be acting so strangely?

Noticing Nanny Ding behind her also wearing a broad, beaming smile, a thought suddenly struck Yunjiao: could her second aunt be asking for something?

But she was merely a concubine's daughter with no power or influence. She was already treading on eggshells in the Qian household; returning to the Ba house would be even worse. What could her second aunt possibly want from her?

Yunjiao exchanged a look with Jianjia, who looked equally bewildered.

Neither could make sense of it.

Could she still be eyeing the family fortune in her grandmother's hands?

At the thought, Yunjiao felt a surge of resentment. Her grandmother was in such a fragile state—did these people have no heart? Was all they saw money?

"How is your grandmother? Has she eaten well today?" Madam Ding asked, releasing Yunjiao’s hand and walking over to the bed.

Though surprised by this uncharacteristic concern for her grandmother's health, Yunjiao replied obediently: "Her spirits have been better these past few days, and she has been awake more often. This morning, she managed half a bowl of duck porridge."

"You take such delicate care of her. Who knows, perhaps your grandmother might regain her senses yet," Madam Ding sighed as she sat by the bed, shaking her head. "Oh, Grandmother, you have suffered so. You grew old without ever enjoying your later years, and you have no grandsons. I, too, have suffered—I lost my own son, alas... But you are fortunate to have such a filial and thoughtful granddaughter. If I had such luck at your age, I would wake up smiling in my sleep!"

Old Madam Qian lay blankly on the bed, silent and unresponsive.

Madam Ding continued her rambling, with Nanny Ding chiming in occasionally.

Standing to the side, Yunjiao looked at Jianjia again. Watching the mistress and servant put on this display, she remained deeply suspicious. What was Madam Ding truly aiming for?

After a while, the two women turned their gaze toward Yunjiao.

Madam Ding spoke up: "Yunjiao, you are such a rare, wonderful girl. Whoever marries you in the future will truly be blessed by their ancestors."

Yunjiao smiled, neither shy nor intimidated, and without offering a retort. She simply watched Madam Ding, waiting for what was to come.