Super-Fertile Darling: Forced to Marry the Heirless Tyrant

Ji Qingwu quietly took her cold hand.

She whispered in her ear, "Elder Sister, don’t let on that you know anything. The Grand Dowager coming here on her own initiative means she’s getting antsy. Let’s just wait and see what happens."

Ji Qingrong met her gaze, and only then did she calm down.

Matriarch Cui entered with two maids in tow, one of whom was Zizhu, the very maid Ji Qingwu had just splashed with soup.

"Mother."

"Grand Dowager."

After the two paid their respects, Matriarch Cui walked to the head seat in the main hall and sat down, with Zizhu standing beside her, fanning her.

Matriarch Cui’s complexion was fair, with deep lines etched at the corners of her eyes and mouth. Her gaze swept over Ji Qingwu from head to toe.

"So this is Qingrong’s sister. Just look at that delicate face, so supple you could squeeze water from it."

Ji Qingwu didn’t speak, simply letting Matriarch Cui look her over with a placid smile.

Ji Qingrong motioned for her to sit in the seat below her own. After taking a deep breath, she did her best to speak in a normal tone. "Mother, you’re so busy with your duties every day. What brings you to Ninghua Hall?"

"I heard from your second sister-in-law that your fifth sister came to the mansion to visit you. Since I had a moment to spare, I thought I’d drop by as well."

If the incident with the soup hadn’t happened, Ji Qingrong would have certainly stood up to thank her mother-in-law for placing such importance on her maternal family and even making a special trip. But now, she only felt a chill in her heart. ’Her mother-in-law is so incredibly calculating.’

As such, Ji Qingrong just smiled and said nothing in reply.

Seeing that neither of them was responding to her, Matriarch Cui’s expression shifted subtly.

She then broke the silence herself. "Zizhu said that the bowl of soup sent over at noon... you gave it to your fifth sister to drink?"

Ji Qingwu lowered her head. ’This Marchioness definitely didn’t come here just to see me. It’s because of the soup. She wants to probe whether Elder Sister knows the truth.’

’So she isn’t completely without fear.’

Ji Qingrong said, "Mother, the aroma of the soup you had prepared for me was just too tempting. My fifth sister has a weakness for delicious food and wanted a taste, so I shared some with her."

Matriarch Cui let out a sound of surprise. "Oh? But I was told that your fifth sister didn’t like it, and even threw the soup all over Zizhu and smashed the bowl."

Zizhu said in a low voice, "Grand Dowager, I don’t know how I offended the Fifth Missy for her to splash hot soup on me."

The moment she finished speaking, Matriarch Cui put on a stern expression and said, "Zizhu, you are far too unruly! Qingrong’s sister is a guest in the Marquis Mansion. So what if she splashed a bowl of soup? It’s all my fault for spoiling you."

It seemed like she was reprimanding her own maid, but in reality, her words were a jab at Ji Qingwu. As a guest of the Marquis Mansion, she had been rude to the Marchioness’s personal maid—she was the one who was truly spoiled.

Seeing Ji Qingrong rise respectfully to her feet, a glint flashed in Matriarch Cui’s eyes.

"Mother, Zizhu has indeed been spoiled. If you are displeased with her, you can send her off to one of the estates, or sell her."

Matriarch Cui hadn’t expected such a reply. In the past, Ji Qingrong had always been very deferential toward her, usually choosing to forbear.

She frowned and said, "Qingrong, it is an ancestral teaching of the Marquis Mansion to treat servants leniently. You are being too harsh."

This Grand Dowager was quite skilled at shifting the blame. In just a moment, it had become a matter of Ji Qingrong mistreating a servant.

Ji Qingwu also stepped forward, smiling. "Your Ladyship, who said I didn’t like it? Was it your maid who said that? I’ve never had such a savory soup before. It’s just..."

Matriarch Cui asked, "Just what?"

Ji Qingwu wrung her hands pitifully. "It’s just that Zizhu, the maid beside you, kept glaring at me so fiercely, as if her eyes were about to pop out and fall into my soup. She startled me, and that’s why I dropped the bowl."

Zizhu’s eyes were very large and bulged slightly. When she glared, it did indeed resemble Ji Qingwu’s description.

Zizhu was first panicked to hear the matriarch talk of selling her, and then she heard Ji Qingwu claim to have been frightened by her.

In a fit of anger, the words she usually used to curse at the junior maids slipped out.

"You wretched wench, you’re lying!"

Ji Qingrong’s face immediately turned cold. She said gravely, "Mother, look. Zizhu is disrespecting an honored guest of the Marquis Mansion right in front of you. If word of this gets out, people might think you have some grievance against my fifth sister, or against the Ji Family."

Once things were escalated to such a level, they became difficult to handle.

Matriarch Cui shot Zizhu a sharp glare, then said placatingly, "I made a special trip just to see Qingwu and show how much the Marquis Mansion values her."

But Zizhu’s earlier cry of "wretched wench" had touched a raw nerve with Ji Qingrong, and she had no intention of letting it slide.

"The Marquis Mansion has no place for a servant who insults her masters!"

Matriarch Cui used a firm tone to offer a compromise. "Alright, now. Let’s not damage the harmony of the family over some nonsense spoken by a worthless maid. Don’t you agree, Qingrong?"

The implication was that if she were to press the issue further, she would be the one making a scene for no reason.

Ji Qingrong was already fuming and didn’t want to back down so easily, but she suddenly heard the person behind her sniffle.

She turned her head to see that Ji Qingwu’s eyes were, at some point, brimming with tears. Her nose was scrunched up, the very picture of pitifulness as she tried to hold them back.

Her voice was soft and weak as she said, "Grand Dowager, it’s all my fault. The blame is all mine."

With this one apology, it suddenly seemed as if the Marchioness was bullying a young girl.

The more Ji Qingwu spoke, the more aggrieved she sounded, her eyes filling with tears until they glistened like pools of water.

When Lu Juan, the Heir of Marquis Zhongyong, walked through the door, this was the scene that greeted him.

His mother, Matriarch Cui, was seated primly in the main seat, her expression as frosty as ice.

His usually calm and composed wife also had a sour expression, her brows furrowed as she looked with distress at a slender young woman.

’This must be the Fifth Missy of the Ji Family,’ he thought. ’Qingrong mentioned her to me last night.’

He had been at the doorway just a moment ago and heard her tone—aggrieved, yet feigning strength, enough to stir one’s pity.

Ji Qingrong was facing the door, so she was the first to see Lu Juan enter. But for the first time ever, she neither went up to greet him nor called out his name.

Matriarch Cui said in surprise, "Weren’t you supposed to be at a palace banquet today? Why are you back so early?"

Lu Juan replied, "It was canceled at the last minute. The Emperor had urgent business to attend to. The investigation into the Prince who fell into the water a few days ago has uncovered the mastermind."

Ji Qingwu’s ears twitched. ’They found the person who harmed the little one? I wonder how they’ll be dealt with.’

Matriarch Cui breathed a sigh of relief, pressing her palms together and murmuring a few words to Amitabha Buddha. "The Young Master has seen the worst of it pass." Then she made the introduction: "This is Qingrong’s fifth sister."

Ji Qingwu quickly blinked her tears away, took a step forward, and bowed respectfully.

"Qingwu greets you, Elder Brother-in-law."

Lu Juan had inherited Matriarch Cui’s fair skin. His features were handsome and well-defined, and the phrase "a face like crowned jade" was no exaggeration to describe him. He carried an air of noble refinement, as if detached from the mortal world.

Ji Qingrong was also a peerless beauty. Standing there, she was like a trumpet creeper flower. With the two of them in the same room, the entire space seemed to brighten.

Lu Juan nodded. "What just happened? I see someone seems to be a little unhappy."

As he said this, his gaze was fixed on Ji Qingrong.

Seeing her tightly furrowed brow, he frowned as well.

Ji Qingwu’s "sadness" was so obvious that anyone with eyes could see it.

The "someone" Lu Juan referred to as being unhappy was Ji Qingrong.