Super-Fertile Darling: Forced to Marry the Heirless Tyrant

Ji Qingwu’s heart stirred.

Her brother-in-law had noticed her older sister’s change in mood the moment he walked in. And he hadn’t hesitated to ask about it in front of everyone.

’Was he going to see justice done for her?’

’It seems my older sister’s place in the Princely Heir’s heart isn’t as low as she herself believes.’

Lu Juan watched as Ji Qingwu’s eyes shifted between him and Qingrong. Her dewy eyes darted about before she revealed a look of distinct satisfaction.

As if she now approved of him.

Hearing Lu Juan’s question, Madam Cui’s heart tightened. She had come to Ninghua Hall to ask about the soup precisely because she knew he was on duty at the court today and wouldn’t be home.

’Now, all I can do is try to gloss over this quickly.’

Madam Cui smiled and waved a dismissive hand. "It’s nothing serious," she said. "Just a few squabbles within the household. It’s not worth your time."

’It was hardly "a few squabbles."’

Ji Qingrong lowered her eyes, hiding the resentment in them.

’This was about years of betrayed trust. It was about being left without children, facing a future of boundless loneliness with no one to depend on.’

Lu Juan’s gaze intensified.

"Qingrong, you tell me."

Ji Qingrong met her husband’s gaze. She remembered what her fifth sister had asked her earlier... ’Will my husband handle this impartially?’

She bit her lip, hesitating. ’Should I take the risk for such a slim chance of success?’

’But if I speak up and lose everything...’

In the end, Ji Qingrong held back.

’I can’t take this risk. My health is already ruined. I can’t act rashly and destroy my relationship with my husband as well.’

When Lu Juan saw her hesitate and then lower her head in defeat, he frowned again.

Even with all the difficult matters he faced as an official at court, the ever-composed Mr. Lu had never frowned so much.

A smile touched Madam Cui’s eyes as she watched his expression. Thinking he was displeased with Ji Qingrong, she tried to soothe him. "Ziyou, don’t be angry with your wife. It was nothing, really. And even if she did do something wrong, I’ve already taught her a lesson."

Ziyou was Lu Juan’s style name, used by those close to him. But Ji Qingrong had never called him that.

"What did she do wrong?" Lu Juan pressed coldly.

Madam Cui glanced at the maid beside her. Zizhu, taking the hint, immediately knelt in the center of the hall.

Sobbing on the floor, she said, "Young Master, the Heir’s wife... she says she’s going to sell me off, but I swear I haven’t done anything!"

Zizhu grew more and more distraught as she spoke, her sobs becoming louder until it seemed she might faint from the sheer force of them.

Ji Qingrong’s brows furrowed. Her eyes blazed with fury as she watched Madam Cui and Zizhu put on a show, twisting the truth.

But she remained silent. Lu Juan’s expression turned to ice.

Just then, someone else began to sob. Their cries were not as loud as Zizhu’s, but a soft, quiet weeping.

’It’s time for an acting competition.’

All eyes turned to find Ji Qingwu weeping, her tears making her look all the more beautiful and pitiable.

Ji Qingrong quickly pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve to dry her fifth sister’s tears. Then she turned, finally looking as if she was about to speak.

At this, Lu Juan raised an eyebrow. He looked at Ji Qingrong, expectantly waiting for her to speak.

But her words were not for him.

Ji Qingrong turned on Zizhu and snapped, "What are you wailing so loudly for? You’ve scared my fifth sister again!"

The shout brought Zizhu’s wailing to an abrupt halt. Snot and tears streamed down her face, carving white streaks through her makeup.

With her mouth agape and eyes red and swollen, Zizhu looked back at Ji Qingwu. ’Why is *she* crying too?!’

Ji Qingwu’s eyes welled with tears. A single, perfect tear slid down her cheek. Through her blurry vision, she finally got a clear look at Zizhu. She immediately bit her lip, hard, the corners of her mouth twitching as she lowered her head.

She had almost broken character.

The reason was simple: Zizhu, in her green dress, looked exactly like that sad frog meme from her past life.

Unaware of the real reason, Ji Qingrong comforted her. "Fifth Sister, this is all my fault. I’m sorry you’ve been wronged. Please, don’t cry anymore."

The moment Ji Qingrong spoke, regardless of what she said, the tension in Lu Juan’s expression eased considerably.

He asked, "Zizhu, what did the Heir’s wife mean by ’again’? When I entered earlier, I saw Fifth Sister crying. Was that also because of you?"

With Lu Juan himself now involved, the matter could no longer be easily dismissed.

Madam Cui quickly interjected on Zizhu’s behalf. "Young girls can be hot-headed. It was just a small quarrel. You should focus on your duties at court. You needn’t concern yourself with these trivial household matters."

"Quarrel?"

Lu Juan repeated the word as if it were the most absurd thing he’d ever heard. "Mother," he said, his voice low and dangerous, "are you telling me that *your* maid was quarreling with my wife’s sister? Since when do servants in this Marquis Mansion have the right to behave so audaciously before their masters?"

Madam Cui rubbed her temples and sighed. "Zizhu has been with me since she was a teenager. I consider her practically family. You’re busy with your official duties all day; she’s the only one who can keep an old woman like me company. Last year, when I fell ill with the plague, I’m afraid I wouldn’t be here talking to you now if Zizhu hadn’t been there watching over me."

Zizhu and Madam Cui did share an unusually close bond. Madam Cui was playing the sympathy card, hoping to make Lu Juan reconsider by reminding him of Zizhu’s merits.

But someone wasn’t buying it.

"You’ve grown old and confused."

The moment those five words were spoken.

Everyone in Ninghua Hall was stunned.

Madam Cui stared at Lu Juan, aghast, his words echoing in her mind.

Ji Qingrong’s eyes went wide. ’What did my husband just say?’

Ji Qingwu’s crying ceased. She stared at her brother-in-law, her eyes glistening.

Lu Juan let out a self-deprecating laugh. "Mother, you truly are confused. When you were sick with the plague last year, it was Qingrong who tended to you day and night, staying in the side room of your own courtyard. She brewed every dose of your medicine with her own hands. She may look clever, but she’s all earnest heart and clumsy hands. Who knows how many times she burned herself on those clay pots? She still has the scars on her wrist to prove it."

As everyone’s gaze fell on her wrist, Ji Qingrong, not wanting to admit her clumsiness, quickly pulled her sleeve down to hide it.

Lu Juan continued, "And another thing—how has a mere maid become ’practically family’? Your son and daughter-in-law are sitting right here. If you are displeased with me, Mother, you don’t need to resort to such indirect methods."

Madam Cui could no longer remain seated. As if sitting on pins and needles, she said, "How could I be displeased with you? I was just—"

Lu Juan cut her off. "You were just forgetting that Qingrong is the Heir’s wife. She is the mistress of this household!"

Madam Cui was rendered speechless, her mouth closing in an awkward line.

’If you want a peaceful relationship between a mother-in-law and her daughter-in-law,’ Ji Qingwu thought, silently applauding her brother-in-law, ’the son has to stand his ground.’

Having received such unexpected support, Ji Qingrong’s eyes grew brighter and brighter.

Normally, she would have simply endured her mother-in-law’s behavior. But today, after learning the truth behind her years of infertility and then seeing Zizhu’s disrespect toward her younger sister, she had finally found the courage to argue with Madam Cui.

Then they heard Lu Juan’s emotionless voice. "Sell Zizhu."

Zizhu didn’t even dare to cry.

She knew that once the Young Master made a decision, it would never be changed.

Nor did she dare plead with the Grand Dowager. As Madam Cui’s confidante, she knew full well that while the high-ranking Madam Cui feared neither the old Grand Dowager nor the Marquis himself, she was terrified of the Young Master.

Madam Cui covered her mouth and began to cough.

A thought seemed to strike Zizhu, and she threw herself at Ji Qingwu’s feet.