Chapter 18: Humiliation

The banquet at the Wei residence was originally an excellent opportunity to strengthen bonds, but unfortunately, Lu Wenyin showed up. She came with only Lu Wanyang, clearly heading straight for Cui Jingyu and Wei Yushan.

In fact, the pine-pulp jujube paste rice cake served at the table was not only favored by Yanyan; even Lingbo recognized it at a glance. The Wei household’s banquet still followed the Yang Lincheng style—though men and women sat separately, unlike the Huaxin banquet where guests were divided between inner and outer courtyards, here the seating was in the main hall and the lower hall, separated only by a bamboo curtain through which voices could be heard.

So when the dessert platter arrived, Lingbo smiled and deliberately asked, “Sister Fu, it’s been years since you returned to the capital. Do you still remember the taste of this pine-pulp jujube paste rice cake?”

Fu Yunrui merely smiled and replied, “I hardly remember any pastries now, let alone such delicate ones.”

“This is actually my sister’s specialty dessert. It’s a pity she hasn’t made it for a few years—last time was about four years ago...” Lingbo sincerely complimented the dessert and passed some to A’cuo. “A’cuo, try it too. Auntie used to praise it.”

“It tastes quite ordinary to me,” Lu Wenyin, unaware of the backstory, habitually belittled it. “If we talk about desserts, the ingredients have to be top-notch. There are only a few premium dried fruits each year, and if you can’t get them, the desserts fall short. Fortunately, thanks to Lord Wei, the northern trade routes are open, so the capital’s supply of dried fruits is sufficient this year.”

“I wonder if there’s still enough time to purchase more?” Fu Yunrui asked upon hearing this.

“It’s probably too late to buy now, but my family prepared extra for the Huaxin banquet this year. Since Lady Yin wants some, I’ll just send someone over later,” Lu Wenyin replied with a smile.

“I’m fine with less entertaining; I’m more worried about Lady Yin not having enough...” Fu Yunrui admitted candidly.

As they chatted inside, Wei Yushan outside grew restless.

Without the marquis present, he was already unruly. His injuries pained him, and seeing the pine-pulp jujube paste rice cake brought out only fueled his bad temper. He pushed the plate aside, saying, “Take it away, it’s annoying to look at.”

He didn’t intend to overturn it, but the dessert was arranged in the style typical of the capital’s noble families—served on high stands with the pastries piled high, so a slight bump could topple them. His shove sent everything tumbling, the rice cakes rolling all over the floor. The servants hurried to gather them.

The guests were mostly generals and not given to fussiness. Cui Jingyu said nothing, but Pei Zhao laughed.

Originally from the Fire Battalion and somewhat distant from the Mountain Battalion, Pei Zhao's presence was unexpected today, but he felt at home. Seeing the scene, he chuckled, “Looks like this meal was served too lightly.”

Everyone laughed, and Wei Yushan was embarrassed. Having suffered losses at Pei Zhao’s hands before, he dared not fly into a full rage. He could only say, “Stop gloating; don’t think I don’t know about your business.”

“Oh? What leverage do you have on me? I haven’t heard,” Pei Zhao smiled.

He was well-liked, and everyone assumed Wei Yushan was just drunk and picking a fight. They stepped in to mediate, and when the food and wine arrived, the topic shifted.

Today’s feast was exceptional—not only lavish but also tailored to the generals’ tastes. It wasn’t refined cuisine but generous portions suited to drinking: boiled white mutton cut into large hand-held chunks with just coarse salt and no seasoning, yet utterly free of gaminess. Dry dipping sauces accompanied iron skewers loaded with large pieces of beef and mutton, marbled with fat and lean, rubbed with various spices and grilled to a fragrant char, served on large wooden platters. Chicken, duck, fish, and other meats followed the capital’s culinary methods—stewed, steamed, fried—with rich flavors perfect for pairing with wine. After several rounds of drinking, mutton soup was served—milky white and steaming, sprinkled with scallions and coriander. Outside, snowflakes fell gently, clearing the chill.

As for desserts, fresh fruits, dried fruits, cold cuts, and pickled dishes were all meticulously prepared. The generals outside, intoxicated and flushed, were thoroughly satisfied. When it was time to leave, they disregarded formalities and personally came to bid farewell to Lady Wei, praising, “Lady Wei, you truly know how to host a feast. This is even more sumptuous than our victory banquets back then!”

Lady Wei smiled and pushed Fu Yunrui forward, saying, “No need to thank me; this is all A’Rui’s doing.”

The generals immediately cheered, pushing forward Yin Hongxuan, saying, “Then thanks are due to Old Yin!”

Yin Hongxuan felt embarrassed, and Fu Yunrui was shy, “I just hold the title. The real effort was Sister Ye’s...”

She recalled the story of Ye Qinglan and Cui Jingyu and had deliberately stepped up to receive Cui Jingyu’s gratitude, thinking a single meeting would suffice. But looking around, there was no sign of the Ye sisters; they had all withdrawn behind the curtains, avoiding men.

Fu Yunrui, focused on crediting Ye Qinglan, forgot that most of the female guests were military wives who had accompanied Yang Lincheng. During their days in the capital, these Yang Lincheng women had already clashed a few times with the local ladies, leaving poor impressions on both sides. Moreover, with Lu Wenyin present to stir the pot—first generously gifting and acting humble to curry favor with the military wives, then displaying an open, casual demeanor unlike the capital’s ladies—it was a recipe for tension.

At such moments, Lu Wenyin immediately smiled, “Sister Fu is confused again. Sister Ye is a refined lady from a scholarly family, very proper. She wouldn’t expose herself like us rough folk. Don’t call her here.”

Actually, Ye Qinglan avoided such encounters because she was unmarried, while Fu Yunrui was married. Lu Wanyang, her own sister, also kept her distance. But Fu Yunrui’s subtle remark ignited cold sneers among the military wives.

One immediately retorted, “That’s right. Miss Ye is from a scholarly family; we have no such rules.”

“That’s not true. We Leshui girls are from a proper marquis family and carry ourselves with dignity. Frankly, it’s those useless rules of the capital that are excessive...” another said.

“Stop it. We’re just country bumpkins; how could we compare to those refined ladies?” a general’s wife laughed.

The generals below also laughed, drunk and spirited. Someone shouted, “How could such a lady stoop to thank us rough types? We’d only ruin her reputation!”

Behind the curtain, Lingbo’s expression turned cold. She had been patient, waiting for Lady Wei to intervene.

But Lady Wei said nothing.

“The rules in the capital are certainly not as strict as those in the Northern Army. Complaining about the feast while full is common. Today, I’ve truly witnessed the army’s good discipline!” Lingbo spoke out sharply.

Immediately, the room fell silent. Her words were sharp, provocative, and cutting to the heart. No one could respond.

“Miss Lingbo, if you have something to say, why hide it?” came a voice.

It was Luo Yong, deputy to Cui Jingyu, nicknamed Luo San. He likely knew some of the past and felt sympathy for Cui Jingyu.

Before he could finish, he was thrown out, rolling several times in the snowy courtyard. Cui Jingyu, having just left the table, kicked him down.

“Get out!” As the Mountain Battalion's senior general, when he spoke, other generals obeyed like sons. “Stop acting crazy here after drinking horse urine. Go move stones at the training ground, and only after finishing can you return.”

“All right.” The generals had no choice but to obey. The ladies, though not under his command, fell silent seeing their husbands punished.

The military wives all respected military orders. They could bicker in peace, but during wartime, they had to focus on support roles. Most came from humble backgrounds; only a few, like Fu Yunrui, had failed at the Huaxin banquet. Most lacked the pedigree to attend such events, being ordinary folk or from the frontier’s lower classes, naturally harboring resentment toward noble ladies.

Though the dispute ended, the atmosphere chilled. When the generals left, a delicate cherry cream pastry arrived, shaped by the Ye family—clear evidence of Ye Qinglan’s dedication to the banquet, though she did not touch a single bite.

Fu Yunrui regretted her harsh words and forced a smile to smooth things over. “Look how exquisite this cream pastry is. Few in the capital can make it like Sister Ye.”

But the women remained united, refusing to touch it. Someone sneered, “We’re not three-year-olds craving sweets.”

“This pastry isn’t exclusive to one kitchen. My family’s chef makes a good one too. When I’m free in a few days, I’ll invite you all over to try...” Lu Wenyin immediately showed off.

“That would be lovely,” laughed Luo Yong’s wife. “We must trouble Madam Chen.”

Fu Yunrui tried to mediate again, but Lingbo stopped her.

“Sister can make this cream pastry for another reason,” Lingbo ignored the others and addressed Lady Wei. “When you visited our home, Madam, this cherry cream pastry was your favorite. I remember that well. Whether others eat it or not doesn’t matter, but you should try some.”

Lady Wei sat composed, expression unreadable, like a judge.

Lingbo’s way of handling matters was clear: the world was divided into insiders and outsiders. Lady Wei’s silence during the earlier dispute, her failure to enforce order or restrain her ladies, had already made Lingbo wary. Yet she was willing to give Lady Wei another chance.

The others, however, wouldn’t allow Lady Wei to speak for herself.

Luo Yong’s wife, Wei Shanhu, the marquis’s niece, stepped forward, placing a glass lid on the bowl before Lady Wei. “Miss Ye is mistaken. Madam’s health has declined in recent years, and cream pastries are cooling; she probably can’t eat them. Miss Ye was thoughtful but overlooked this.”

“Generally, cream pastries are cooling, but ours use a water-soaked method, not chilled. After eating beef and mutton, a bit of cream pastry to clear heat is perfect,” Lingbo stood firm. “Madam Luo doesn’t like it herself, so why meddle with Lady Wei?”

“We’ve accompanied Madam through Yang Lincheng for four years; we know her health best,” Luo retorted. “Miss Lingbo’s skill with vegetables and cooking is excellent, but her medical knowledge leaves much to be desired.”

Her sarcasm provoked Lingbo to retort. Just as she opened her mouth, Fu Yunrui quickly intervened with a conciliatory smile, “Sister Ye’s cream pastry is so good. If Madam can’t enjoy it, I’ll gladly eat it. We all want the best for Madam; let’s not hurt sisterhood.”

Lingbo was fearless, sharp with words, and unafraid of the Lu sisters, often responding in kind. Otherwise, Qinglan wouldn’t have been so detached. This banquet was effectively an exchange between the Wei and Ye families. Lady Wei, as hostess, remained silent. Lingbo, unmarried but leader of the Ye women, naturally held her tongue.

Fu Yunrui’s intentions were good, and Lingbo understood her difficult position, so she toned down her sharpness.

But Lu Wenyin refused to stop, stoking the fire with, “Yunrui came from the Huaxin banquet, so of course she’s closer to Sister Ye.”

“Exactly, we came later. Four years with Yang Lincheng can’t compare to the bonds formed at the Huaxin banquet. No matter the consequences, we fight for our own,” Luo snapped.

Fu Yunrui honestly tried to explain, “It’s not like that; sisters don’t have favorites...” Before she could finish, Ye Lingbo cut in coldly:

“The sisterhood at the Huaxin banquet is naturally the closest, but there are always those who trample others to shine. These ladies just returned from the frontier and don’t understand the capital’s politics. They can’t tell right from wrong.”

Finishing her sharp words, Lingbo stood and faced Lady Wei: “This banquet was arranged at my sister’s urging, to help Sister Fu. If anything displeased, please forgive us.”

Lady Wei smiled awkwardly, “Not at all...”

But Lingbo gave no chance for explanation, instead ordering the servants, “The pastry is nice but useless if no one eats it. Since there are leftovers, throw them to the dogs!”

Though plain-faced and only nineteen, Lingbo managed household affairs for the Ye family, supervising maids and stewards, managing accounts, and even reprimanding the fifty-year-old shopkeeper when mistakes occurred. Her presence radiated authority, stronger than that of the so-called generals’ wives. The ladies were stunned, speechless.

“Lingbo,” Qinglan immediately admonished, “sit down quickly. It’s normal that tastes differ; there’s no need for such harsh words.”

Though not a lady herself, as the eldest sister Qinglan skillfully defused tension, neither giving others a chance to reprimand Lingbo nor fully defending her. She turned to Lady Wei: “Please forgive Lingbo’s rudeness. She’s young and speaks without care. Madam’s kindness should see it as childish temper.”

Lady Wei had no choice but to say, “It’s Shanhu who is too sharp...”

Qinglan did not allow Lady Wei to invite Shanhu to apologize, not even glancing at her. She stood and prepared to leave with Lingbo, “It’s late. The girls must be tired. Chunming, fetch A’cuo’s cloak. Madam Yang, find Yanyan to bid farewell to Miss Wei.”

As host and guest parted, Lady Wei rose to see them off. Yet the Ye sisters, unlike their warm arrival, were silent on the way out. Lady Wei made small talk about the coming heavy snow, but Lingbo did not respond, turning instead to comment to A’cuo on the poor silver embroidery of the fox-fur cloak.

Lady Wei herself noticed the shift. Though ill and a prominent marquis’s wife, escorting them out was a sincere gesture; otherwise, Madam Luo would not glare at Lingbo. But Lady Wei was not a capital lady, lacking subtlety. She hinted, “I was neglectful today...”

“Madam speaks too highly,” Qinglan replied calmly. “The young general’s quarrel is common. Please don’t dwell on it. I’ve already forgotten and ask Madam to forget as well.”

Lady Wei wanted to mention the banquet, but instead spoke of Wei Yushan’s matters, hinting at old grievances. “I’m sorry for the banquet mishaps; no wonder Lingbo was upset.”

Called out, Lingbo set aside the fox-fur cloak and replied coolly, “Madam, there’s no need for formalities. Hearts are like water, and the world changes. Madam liked the cream pastry then but not now. That’s normal.”

Her words were cool but ten times sharper than Qinglan’s. It was no wonder Lady Wei struggled to bear them.

Their past was clear to all; to accuse Lady Wei of changing her mind was too harsh. Lady Wei, looking at Qinglan, said, “Jingyu is now a marquis, a grown man. I shouldn’t say more. I heard you compare the Huaxin banquet to the top scholars’ exams. If someone doesn’t submit their exam paper, no matter their talent, they won’t be allowed to retake it—that would be unfair to those who did. Right?”

Lady Wei’s words clenched Lingbo’s fists the entire way home. She remained silent in the carriage until they reached the house.

Qinglan found it both amusing and touching. She was fine—after four years, many cold remarks and social climbing had become familiar. Lady Wei’s words, though harsh, were expected; otherwise, she wouldn’t have accepted the invitation.

Lingbo was different. Lady Wei was Cui Jingyu’s adoptive mother, almost family by betrothal. Lingbo had already regarded her as an elder. After Madam Meng’s recent death, Lingbo had transferred affection, believing that by showing kindness and honoring Lady Wei with grand gestures, she would be reciprocated. That was why Lady Wei supported Ye Qinglan in hosting the banquet. Lingbo respected Lady Wei as family. With the Wei family now ennobled, this banquet was unavoidable. Not from a noble background, Lingbo had no time to learn the capital’s ways, so accepting help from the Ye sisters to host a proper, dignified feast was a win-win.

But it all fell short.

Lingbo was smart but understood only human nature, not politics, and disliked studying.

When the carriage arrived, Qinglan saw Lingbo still seated inside, lips pressed tight in darkness, silent and brooding. Their personalities complemented each other—Qinglan calm, Lingbo stubborn to a fault, never letting things go, holding others and herself to impossible standards.

Qinglan returned to the carriage and teased, “So, going alone into enemy territory didn’t work out, huh?”

Lingbo wasn’t in a joking mood. She gritted her teeth, “I acted alone and caused Sister to be humiliated.”

Qinglan laughed and sat beside her, holding her hand. Seeing her clenched fists, she knew Lingbo was overthinking again. “Don’t be silly. It was your idea, but I wanted to see for myself. You couldn’t have forced me otherwise. A little quarrel is nothing. Luo and the others meant no harm; they’ve been at the frontier too long and speak without tact. To take offense seriously would be foolish.”

Lingbo knew those “Yang Lincheng wives” were merely Lu Wenyin’s tools. Their harsh words stemmed from jealousy—Lady Wei had disregarded Ye Qinglan’s broken engagement and welcomed the Ye sisters, disadvantaging the capital ladies. Old grudges and new resentments mingled. True enmity would serve Lu Wenyin’s plans.

Yet Lingbo’s heart could not accept it.

“They’re fools. Miao Qiyun is foolish too?” she snapped.

“Lingbo,” Qinglan quickly stopped her, half amused, half exasperated, “Even if there’s trouble, you can’t call Lady Wei by name like that. She’s an elder.”

“An elder? Does she deserve that?” Lingbo’s eyes glinted in the dark, like tears—but she was not one to cry. She saw through the underlying power plays: “The Huaxin banquet is soon, and Lady Wei, as marquis’s wife, can’t even organize one. Who knows what embarrassment will come. That Luo woman mocks our cooking skills but ignores who really does the hard work. She denies friendships from four years ago, grows close to Lu Wenyin—she’s blinded!”

Though wrapped in the fox-fur cloak, Lingbo’s thin shoulders trembled with anger. Qinglan found her fury strangely calming.

Outside, heavy snow fell. Qinglan listened to the footsteps and snow’s hush, then spoke quietly: “Lady Wei and Lord Wei are one. Many wives see her as leader. She’s essentially the army’s ruler, where discipline must be strict. She and Lady Luo share life-and-death bonds from Yang Lincheng. I’m the one who didn’t submit my paper; she knows what matters. Even if Lady Luo and the others are rude, she has to protect her own.”

“Protect or not, why do they all peck at us like black-eyed hens? They’re madams, we’re young ladies, and they chase us shamelessly!” Lingbo cursed fiercely.

Qinglan calmly watched the snow on the window. “There’s a reason. When we left, Yunrui was apologetic, walking me to the carriage. She said something I understood but she couldn’t say outright. The Northern Army is hot right now; since arriving in the capital, many have courted the generals—Wei Yushan, Luo Yong, Zheng Zhongguo—they have endless feasts, card games, drinking parties, dancers, and more. Some even send concubines as gifts. Rumor has it the Huaxin banquet aims to match unmarried generals, or even break up existing marriages to wed capital ladies. The wives, having endured hardship for years, fear losing their husbands. In this crisis, Lady Wei must stabilize the army’s morale.”

Lingbo suddenly understood and laughed. “They say men fight at the front, women battle behind, all heroic and grand like Hua Mulan. But when faced with this, they dare not confront the men, only treat the Huaxin ladies as imagined enemies. Pathetic. So Lady Wei is just putting out fires for Lord Wei? If she cared about the wives, why not rein in the generals? Instead, they use us as favors. Their ‘life-and-death bond at Yang Lincheng’ can’t even compare to the Huaxin banquet’s power.”

Seeing her sharp tongue, Qinglan warned, “Don’t be so harsh. Though the Huaxin banquet sounds prestigious, this year is full of troubles. You and A’cuo must be careful and avoid these messy affairs.”

“No worries, Sister watches over us at the banquet. What’s there to fear?” Lingbo smiled mischievously.

“Good to hear.” Qinglan patted her head, seeing her mood improve. “It’s cold in the carriage; don’t stay inside too long. If anything comes up, handle it at the warm pavilion. I’ll go in first and make tea; you should come in soon.”

“Got it.” Lingbo obediently explained, “There’s always so much waiting at home. I’m used to sorting my thoughts here first. With Madam Yang accompanying me, I’ll be inside soon.”

Qinglan went inside with Chunming and the others. Lingbo waited patiently until they were out of sight, then called, “Madam Yang, go deliver a letter for me.”

Madam Yang knew the second young lady’s temper well and smiled resignedly.

“Second Miss,” she said earnestly, having raised them almost like a second mother, “There’s a saying: ‘Law is not lightly passed, the Way not cheaply sold; if the teacher is not on your path, the doctor will not answer your knock.’ Even if there’s feeling, the other party must show it first. Coming on too strong isn’t trading. Haven’t you learned from today’s lesson? If you keep pushing for the eldest miss, there will be more awkward moments.”

Lingbo waved dismissively. “Don’t lecture me; you don’t understand.”

“All right, all right. I don’t understand,” Madam Yang conceded.

“History judges winners and losers, not how they got there. Xiang Yu had style but lost; Liu Bang, a petty local officer, won. If things succeed in the end, someone will find a flattering excuse. Even in plays, once you achieve top scholar, past faults are covered by a splendid quilt. Everyone’s happy.”

Her expression resolute, “Cui Jingyu was made a marquis at twenty-four. Many capital ladies fought tooth and nail for him, losing face. Who cares about appearances? Even if it looks bad, I’ll bear it; no harm will come to Sister. Just deliver my letter.”

Her ambition was fierce but made sense. Madam Yang was moved and softened, asking, “Is the letter for Miss Shen?”

“No, for Madam Shen,” Lingbo said, eyes sharp as a drawn sword in the snowlight. “Tell her it’s urgent and to send a message tomorrow, inviting me and A’cuo for tea.”

The Yang Lincheng wives were fierce and foolish. Even if the Huaxin banquet truly aimed to break up first wives and match capital ladies, legitimate noble ladies would never stoop to compete for men with them. If they couldn’t even recognize the real threats, the twenty-four banquets of the capital would be a tiger’s den even for trained noble ladies, let alone these women. Many troubles awaited them.

Either way, Lu Wenyin couldn’t have it all her way.

“Oh, and when you go out, check where A’cuo’s carriage is. They came together but why are they so far behind?”

“Yes, Madam.”