Super-Fertile Darling: Forced to Marry the Heirless Tyrant

"Fifth Missy, the Master is waiting for you in the front hall."

Ji Qingwu hurried out of the courtyard, walking so fast the soles of her shoes could have sparked.

The children who could study in the Upper Study Room were all exceptionally talented, and their families were all powerful and noble.

Her brow furrowed as she asked the young servant beside her, "Do you know who Jiu Jiu got into a fight with?"

"...It’s the young grandson of Imperial Censor Yan Zongrang, Yan Bing." The young servant’s voice was tense.

The news made Ji Qingwu’s vision go black.

The position of Imperial Censor was second only to the Prime Minister, but what made it particularly special was the authority to monitor all officials and admonish the Emperor himself.

Of all people, they had provoked the one person they absolutely shouldn’t have.

She pressed on, "How old is that child?"

The young servant replied, "I hear he’s about six or seven."

Ji Qingwu stopped in her tracks, a wave of anxiety washing over her. ’If Jiu Jiu fought a boy so much older than her, she must have gotten the worst of it.’

Overcome with worry and seeing no one around, she finally lifted her skirts and broke into a trot down the long corridor.

In a pavilion atop a rockery, several guests of the Qiao Family were composing poetry and playing chess—enjoying refined pastimes with a fine view—when the running figure in the corridor below caught their eye.

The daughters of noble houses were always expected to be demure and poised, as still as statues. This was the first time they had ever seen a young woman run with such abandon.

A young man in purple robes, a newly appointed Guest Elder of the Qiao Family, curiously asked the person beside him, "Brother Li, do you know who that woman is?"

The man in white sitting at the chess table—with long, willow-like brows and a posture as elegant as a jade tree—held a white jade chess piece and looked over at the mention of her.

Her raven-black gauze skirt swayed with her every step.

A white sash cinched her slender waist, her sleeves fluttering. She looked like a beauty who had stepped right out of an ink wash painting.

Even after her figure disappeared from the corridor, the man in purple stared after her, wanting more.

"Brother Li, that young woman truly brings to mind the saying ’as swift as an escaping rabbit.’ You’ve been at the Qiao Mansion longer than I have. Do you know which of the family’s young ladies she is? Is she betrothed?"

’Judging by her direction, she must be headed to the front hall.’

Li Chengxun placed the piece in his hand on the board and said coolly, "I have never seen her before either."

The man playing against Li Chengxun was named Liu Nian. He said, "I heard from the servants that the Ji Family’s maternal granddaughter came today. I saw her coming from the Old Madam’s courtyard, so that must be her."

The man in purple asked in surprise, "Mr. Liu, you mean the miss from the Ji Family who was living astray and only recently returned?"

Liu Nian sneered dismissively, "What ’miss’? She’s just a widow with a child. Her dead husband was nothing more than a crude common soldier. So what if she’s from the Ji Family?"

Seeing the regretful look on the purple-robed man’s face, Liu Nian’s eyes gleamed as he added in a frivolous tone, "Don’t be a fool. A woman like that is fine for a bit of fun, but marrying her as your proper wife would only make you a laughingstock."

Li Chengxun paid no mind to their conversation. He placed his final chess piece, one long brow raised.

"The game is decided."

"Hey, Chengxun! That final move was ruthless. You didn’t even try to spare my pride."

The two were not on the same level of skill to begin with; Liu Nian was the one who had insisted on playing him today.

Li Chengxun simply stood up and left the pavilion.

*

Ji Qingwu arrived at the front hall.

From the doorway, she could see a number of people gathered inside. The atmosphere was heavy.

She immediately spotted a small figure standing in the corner. The little girl’s head was bowed, her eyes fixed on her own feet, and her little hands were clasped primly in front of her stomach. It was clear she had just been scolded.

It looked like she wasn’t injured. Ji Qingwu’s heart relaxed slightly.

"Jiu Jiu."

The woman’s soft, gentle voice broke the silence in the hall.

All eyes turned to her.

Ji Qingwu crossed the threshold and walked gracefully to the center of the room.

The moment Jiu Jiu saw her mother, her little lip jutted out and tears welled in her eyes. The pitiful sight made Ji Qingwu’s heart ache.

But with so many people in the hall, Ji Qingwu had to observe etiquette. Instead of immediately hugging and comforting her daughter, she first curtsied to Qiao Menghan, who sat in the host’s seat.

"Grandfather."

Mr. Qiao looked displeased. He nodded and said in a heavy voice, "You’re here."

Seated below Qiao Menghan was another old man with an even fouler expression, a goatee, thin cheeks, and high cheekbones.

Upon seeing her, he said coldly, "Are you this girl’s mother?"

"Xiao Wu, this is Imperial Censor Yan Zongrang, Mr. Yan," Mr. Qiao introduced.

Ji Qingwu curtsied again and greeted him, "Greetings, Mr. Yan."

"I cannot accept a courtesy from a member of the Ji Family."

Imperial Censor Yan turned his body away, refusing to accept her gesture. "I should have gone directly to the Ji Mansion. It was Mr. Qiao who persuaded me to come here, and I’ve disturbed his peace by doing so."

This Yan Zongrang was truly worthy of his title as a skilled and outspoken Imperial Censor. In just a few words, he completely absolved the Qiao Family of responsibility. Though his words were polite, his meaning was clear: this was a matter for the Ji Family, and Mr. Qiao was not to interfere.

Despite being rebuffed so publicly, Ji Qingwu did not seem embarrassed. She straightened her back.

Her tone remained gentle. "Mr. Yan, you waited for me specifically. Is there something you wish to say?"

Imperial Censor Yan’s old eyes shot wide as he spoke bluntly, "There’s no need to play dumb! Go and see for yourself what your daughter has done to my young grandson, Yan Bing!"

Huh?

When Ji Qingwu first heard about the fight, she had subconsciously assumed her own daughter was the victim.

She never would have imagined that Jiu Jiu was the one who had bullied someone else.

Following Imperial Censor Yan’s pointing finger, Ji Qingwu noticed a boy hiding behind a chair.

Compared to Jiu Jiu, this child was tall and sturdy, like a plump, white steamed bun. But now his face was a mess of injuries—a large, dark bruise on his forehead and scratches on his right cheek—turning him into a decorated steamed bun.

Ji Qingwu looked at Yan Bing, then back at Jiu Jiu.

Her look said it all: she truly couldn’t understand how Jiu Jiu had managed to beat him.

Imperial Censor Yan also seemed to feel he had lost some face. "Your daughter is vicious! My grandson has a good temperament and believes a gentleman shouldn’t fight with a girl. That’s the only reason she was able to bully him."

He then added menacingly, "So, what are you going to do about this! If you don’t give me a satisfactory answer, I’ll take this matter to the Emperor tomorrow!"

’Take this matter to the Emperor...’

Ji Qingwu’s calm expression finally cracked. Seeing her press her lips together in a flustered manner, Imperial Censor Yan shook out his robes and snorted.

"My patience is limited."

"Why don’t we hear what the children have to say?" Ji Qingwu sighed, offering a suggestion.

Imperial Censor Yan said, "What is there to say? The proof is my grandson’s face, plain for you to see."

Ji Qingwu walked over to Yan Bing. The boy’s hands were gripping the armrests of the chair tightly, and he didn’t dare look at her.

She examined him up close. ’What a steamed-bun face indeed.’

She said softly, "Young Master Yan."

Only then did Yan Bing raise his face to look at her. His lips trembled, and he guiltily shrank back before lowering his head again.