Chapter 370: Be careful with flames when you wake up, let’s check even the extinguished ones again (13)

The biggest deduction on Qing’s scorecard was precisely her lowborn origin.

But Qing’s lowliness was something the King Ya could raise.

Yeon Pa’s words—that a woman’s low birth can be elevated by marrying well—weren’t some scheming matchmaking trick, but a sincere truth.

But what about the King Ya who accepted Qing?

How could he stand by and watch others point fingers at him for keeping someone lowborn so close?

But it turned out she was a princess!

Not just any princess, but the legitimate royal daughter born of the Empress Dowager herself, and on top of that, she already held the rank of princess.

So Yeon Pa beamed with delight—such a noble bloodline gathered together would indeed become the most precious pair under the heavens.

Yeon Pa always talks about “the world”.

Someone once said that people naturally obsess and crave what they themselves lack.

Of course, in the Central Plains, there was no occasion for such introspection or deep counseling, so Yeon Pa never truly realized her own deficiency.

But if experts who specialize in analyzing others’ wounds looked at her, they would notice that Yeon Pa’s background was that of the lowest of the low in Central Plains society—a lowborn commoner from a clan village.

By some chance, she caught Mujae’s eye and was able to enter the Yeonseong faction’s sect, but she never managed to shed the label of a lowborn monkey.

Though she had the legendary divine arts, the legendary demonic arts, and despite the bitter regret of an old life ended by the annihilation of her sect, Yeon Pa was still unable to escape the stigma of being a despised, lowborn disciple.

So, if psychoanalysts looked at her, they would say Yeon Pa still thinks herself lowborn and thus is even more obsessed with preciousness.

“A master’s prestige is the prestige of his followers.”

They would say her denial of her humble origin and desire to become noble is the very manifestation of that obsession.

But results from such wound analyses always end up making the person seem petty and selfish.

Does that mean Yeon Pa is like that? Absolutely not.

She is genuinely thrilled.

Truly, it’s a match destined by Heaven itself!

Newborn babe—no, my lady—ten thousand points for bloodline.

The fact that the two are uncle and niece means nothing to Yeon Pa.

In fact, marriage between people of the same surname is forbidden in Central Plains.

The scholars of the world rise up to point fingers, arguing that close blood relatives sticking together is no different from beasts. (And beasts might feel unfairly judged.)

But to the Central Plains people, laws are something you lose by obeying, and those who obey become laughed at fools.

This is one of the traits of the Zhonghua people, and it is the very spirit of Zhonghua that future descendants cherish and practice in their hearts.

So no one actually obeys the law.

On top of that, the law in the Central Plains has never, not for a single moment, stood above power.

This remains true in the future, too—there was a chance once to rise above power, but nothing ever came of it.

Thus, the law will remain forever a slave to the sword of the powerful, a merciless executioner that preys on the weak.

So what can the world do about it?

When King Ya marries the princess, if the lowborn dare to murmur, their heads will be cut off.

Noble people never need to obey the law anyway.

Moreover, it was very welcome to Yeon Pa personally.

Originally, Chinese traditional culture was that one surname would cluster together into a village and live among themselves.

From time to time, they would raid neighboring villages, plundering women, slaves, and grain.

Even now, the fortified mountain villages deep in valleys are all clan villages inhabited by one surname, communities of true neighbors where cousins and neighbors are indistinguishable.

That is precisely Yeon Pa’s origin.

Therefore, a marriage between familiar relatives one has known since childhood—rather than between strangers with unknown backgrounds and characters—is truly a match made in heaven, fostering mutual care and lifelong happiness.

So, it’s actually a good thing!

Yeon Pa is endlessly happy.

So happy that even after a wound torn and pierced, sewn up once and burst open again, she doesn’t feel the pain.

This old lowborn woman has found her moment!

“Princess, such things are unbecoming of your noble person. The cart is to be pulled by the lowborn, so please rest your noble body.”

Qing suddenly felt a chill run down her spine.

What’s this? Has the fierce mother-in-law suddenly become a housekeeper?

“No, I said I don’t know if you’re a princess or not? The Empress Dowager tried to put it delicately, but it sounds like nonsense. Anyway, maybe there’s some misunderstanding.”

“Originally, even from your physiognomy alone, a noble person shows a noble aura. The lowborn sees that the princess naturally carries dragon blood, so there is no reason to doubt.”

For Yeon Pa, whether true or false no longer really mattered.

If she was a real princess, then a princess she was.

And since the Empress Dowager vouched for her and even gave a token, even a fake princess could just become a princess.

Qing was utterly dumbfounded. Naturally.

“No, even just a moment ago, you said she’s lowborn and all. Suddenly changing your words?”

“This old woman’s eyes grew dim, failing to recognize a noble even when seeing one. I accept whatever punishment, but even if you cut off this old lowborn’s head, her innate nobility will never disappear.”

“Ah, you’re driving me crazy. Enough, just get on.”

“How could I possibly get on the princess’s cart? If I didn’t know, it’d be one thing, but now I feel as uncomfortable as if I were perched on a needle.”

A vein bulged on Qing’s forehead.

“Lady, I even remodeled it for your comfort, and this is how you repay me?”

“I’m not talking about comfort. I’m talking about the lowborn’s heart.”

“Enough, okay? The princess commands it, so I’ll get on. What would I be if I told a gasping old lady to pull a cart?”

Qing was naturally weak before her elders, and considering her own origin, she simply couldn’t do it.

She couldn’t possibly climb onto a cart pushed by an old lady who picked through trash.

Especially if that old lady’s body was pierced and torn all over, on the verge of coughing up blood.

(Though that old lady was a peerless master of the Flower Scenery.)

“If that is your will, I will obey.”

Tears welled in Yeon Pa’s eyes.

Yeon Pa’s reason for settling in the royal mansion was thanks to the immense grace like Mount Tai that even a lowborn bitch like her was warmly welcomed and accepted as family.

Now it was clear: she and the lady were truly kindhearted.

She deserved infinite points for being endlessly compassionate even to her subordinates.

No, how dare a lowborn score a noble? Such blasphemous woman.

Probably even Choi Lion wouldn’t be this generous in scoring Qing.

Receiving love from the warhorse of the cavalry and the sorceress of the war wheel alike, Qing’s merciless slaughter of old people spared no one, not even political rivals.

****

Before Jayu had yet received the title of prince, and before Duke Deokhyeon had come to reside in the imperial palace,

Jayu’s hobby—fitting for one with the scent of scholarly ink—was reading the words of sages. So, as usual, she was indulging in her hobby under the pretext of study.

“...Oh my...Miss...please...for the sake of propriety...please...”

Suddenly, a ruckus outside.

The door swung open noisily with a rattle, almost breaking.

“Uncle! What are you doing!? Let’s play!”

Leaving aside the prince’s rank, this woman dared to recklessly throw open a man’s door.

Tall and handsome, but with breasts so large they made her look dumb and vulgar—truly the face of a shameless girl who would barge in on a man’s door without hesitation.

But there was some mitigating factor: though her appearance was that of a full-grown woman, her spirit was only that of a ten-year-old child.

“Hey, you escaped again?”

“I’m bored. Let’s play.”

“Ugh, where did you pick up such lowborn speech—”

“I said I’m bored! Let’s play!”

“Now would be poetry reading time—”

“Does that matter? I said I’m bored!”

This was hopeless.

Jayu shook her head gently.

For a ten-year-old, boredom was no trivial matter, so the fact that it was poetry reading time before the tutor wasn’t very important.

“If you’re bored, there are other nieces—”

“They’re no fun. What’s fun about just sitting still and twiddling your fingers? Instead, let’s do sword fighting. Sword fighting.”

“Ahem. If it’s sword fighting, then not me—”

“Among people I know, uncle is the weakest, right? Even if you don’t hold back, there’s no one easier than uncle. It’s no fun fighting someone who holds back. I’m going to hit uncle.”

Jayu was originally physically weak, but still, no matter how young and honest she was, did she really speak so confidently?

And didn’t she just say she was going to hit him?

“I didn’t say that. I want to play with uncle.”

“You definitely said that.”

“I didn’t.”

“You definitely said you’d hit uncle—”

“I didn’t.”

With the repeated interruptions, even Jayu started getting quietly annoyed.

She wanted to smack her once, but being the elder, she held back.

It was obvious she’d lose if they fought, and besides, squabbling with her niece would make either of them look like fools whether she won or lost.

“Hm. Don’t you want to do sword fighting?”

“How about calligraphy? We just got some nice paper.”

“Hmm...”

The niece pretended to think for a long moment.

Finally she concluded:

“No. I don’t want to. Actually, hmm. I’m hungry, uncle. I’m hungry.”

“Then I’ll tell them to bring you a snack—”

“No, I have sweet potatoes. Let’s eat sweet potatoes.”

“What?”

Why the sudden obsession with sweet potatoes?

Jayu looked at her niece with disbelief.

Had she always been this beautiful?

It felt like she’d grown several inches taller in a blink.

Wait—this wasn’t her niece. It was Qing. Not a friend but Qing.

Suddenly, the woman transformed into Qing, who dashed quickly into the servant’s quarters through the side door.

“Friend, why are you going into the servants’ rooms?”

Oh well, can’t be helped.

Jayu smiled bitterly and went toward the servants’ quarters, opening the door.

Her eyes then grew wide.

There stood a dazzlingly beautiful back.

Of all the countless lines drawn by the female form, only the most delicate and precious seemed gathered into this breathtakingly beautiful white silhouette.

Arms lifted sharply to tie up hair.

And under the armpits—how could the flesh in front peek out and assert its presence when viewed from behind?

Jayu forgot to breathe as she stared dumbfounded at that back.

No matter how much she looked, it was so wondrous she just wanted to keep staring.

So she stood still, endlessly gazing for some time.

Then, as if suddenly remembering something, the woman said:

“Oh, friend. Sweet potato. Do you want to eat sweet potato?”

Only then did the hideously rotten sweet potato, the festering wound swollen as large as a pumpkin pressed against her side—

“Huff!”

Jayu jumped up abruptly.

“Water, bring me some water.”

Searching in her dizzy state, no one was around to serve her.

Only then did she come to her senses: Ah, right, this isn’t the royal mansion.

“Haah. What a dream...”

Then a wave of self-disgust poured over her.

Niece? Not a niece?

Endlessly staring at the niece’s back, unable to avert her eyes from such artistry, so beautiful—

Jayu’s eyes lost focus for a moment.

Then a brief pause.

“Ahem, ahem.”

Blushing, coughing, Jayu finally scowled and roughly flopped back onto her bed.

When she closed her eyes, that white, exquisitely delicate, moonlight-like skin kept appearing in her mind.

“I’m going crazy, I swear.”

Jayu looked around quickly, spotted a water bottle on the side table, and, forgetting all dignity, gulped it down.

The cold water helped clear her mind somewhat.

This can’t go on.

What makes a person human?

Jayu, deeply absorbed in reading the sages’ words as a hobby.

How could she think of such shameful things with her niece?

How could she imagine the smooth, sharply carved line along the spine, the neatly rising bones, the shadow of ribs clearly visible under the armpits, the heavy presence like Mount Tai revealed on both sides—ah, the madness! Madness is taking hold!

Jayu’s face turned bright red, like it was about to burst.

But Jayu’s refined aesthetic sense, versed in forbidden calligraphy, saw that artistic back as something eternally beautiful, unmatched in past or future.

Jayu slapped both her cheeks roughly, then tipped the water bottle over her head.

Drip, drip...

Though the narrow bottle neck meant the cold water trickled down weakly and limply over her head.