Chapter 34: Garlic White Meat (Part 9)
Jing Yi walked directly under the stage as if accustomed to such scenes, diligently handing a wooden plank to Jing Bai who was setting up the platform. "Second Brother, busy working?"
On the day Leng Yue married Jing Yi, Jing Bai had worked late before rushing over. By the time he arrived, the wedding banquet wine was nearly finished. Leng Yue knew he had come - and brought several boxes of premium tonic herbs - but she had been busy moving the charred corpse from under the wedding bed to Jing Yi's study at the time, so she hadn't managed to greet him properly.
Counting back, it had been several years since Leng Yue had formally greeted or spoken with Jing Bai.
In Leng Yue's memory, Jing Bai was the most gentlemanly among the four Jing sons - steady and humble in speech and demeanor, with a perpetually warm smile gracing his lips and eyes.
Leng Yue had once naively assumed all Jing sons would grow up like this, with some maturing earlier and others later.
She glanced at Jing Yi standing beside her, beaming with a wealth-attracting smile.
Heh...
Jing Bai fitted the plank Jing Yi handed him perfectly into place before unhurriedly descending from the unfinished stage. Straightening his slightly disheveled clothes, he wiped his sweaty forehead with his pale hand, then gave Leng Yue an exceedingly amiable smile and slight nod, warmly saying, "Warm Palace Seven-Ingredient Pills."
"..."
The greeting "Hello, Second Brother" stuck in her throat as Leng Yue felt completely thrown off.
Warm Palace Seven-Ingredient Pills...
Jing Bai added with gentle warmth, "Take twice daily, ten pills each time. Start with one month's course."
Watching Leng Yue's previously radiant face transform as if struck by lightning, Jing Bai's smile grew even more affectionate. "Don't worry, they're not expensive."
"..."
"Supplement with wolfberry black chicken soup for better results."
"..."
"Ahem..." Jing Yi stepped forward, inserting himself between Jing Bai and Leng Yue. Reaching behind to grasp Leng Yue's clenched fist, he faced Jing Bai with a blossoming smile. "Second Brother, I saw Feng Si'er today."
Blocked from view by Jing Yi, Leng Yue missed the flash of astonishment on Jing Bai's face, only hearing Jing Yi continue casually, "We visited a friend at the Supreme Court this morning. Feng Si'er is his wife. Their steward said you'd been to treat her. How come you never mentioned Feng Si'er getting married?"
Jing Bai fell silent briefly.
During this silence, Leng Yue freed her hand from Jing Yi's grasp and emerged from behind him to stand shoulder-to-shoulder.
Thus, Leng Yue clearly saw Jing Bai regarding her husband with an inscrutable gaze before saying just as amiably, "I forgot."
"..."
With an elder brother's doting smile, Jing Bai said leisurely, "Didn't she always swear she'd marry no one but you? The steward only said his master served at the Supreme Court - I assumed that was another of your outside residences."
Having said this, he calmly turned and unhurriedly returned to work on the stage.
Jing Yi was baffled.
When had Feng Si'er ever said she'd marry no one but him?
And since when did he have any outside residences, let alone multiple?
Only when Leng Yue, face livid, sharply twisted his ear did Jing Yi suddenly understand.
Damn that Jing Bai...Wasn't it just because I sent Laba to his house without paying the consultation fee!
"Xiao Yue... he's spouting nonsense!"
From the opera stage came Jing Bai's still gentle voice, "Hehe."
Between the second courtyard where the stage was set up and the backyard where the kitchen was located lay a sizable garden planted with many lush trees, their foliage still thick and verdant this season, standing tall like canopies.
Leng Yue twisted Jing Yi's ear and dragged him into the garden, hauling him to a thick, sturdy tree by the lotus pond. She pressed him to the ground, deftly pulled off his belt, tied him up securely, and hung him on a medium-sized tree branch.
The branch swayed precariously under the weight.
Jing Yi glanced downward.
Leng Yue had chosen the perfect spot—if he struggled too much, he would fall straight into the lotus pond and end up with a mouthful of mud at the bottom.
Jing Yi felt like crying.
"Xiao Yue... he really is talking nonsense!"
"Is that so?" Leng Yue sat on a rock by the lotus pond under the tree, crossing her arms and squinting at Jing Yi, who dangled from the branch like a cocooned silkworm. "Then say something that isn't nonsense for me to hear."
"My wife is the most beautiful woman in the world."
"..."
Leng Yue gathered her strength, lifted her leg, and kicked the tree trunk. The leafy tree shook violently, accompanied by Jing Yi's howls of misery.
Jing Yi wasn't just howling for show.
As he swung in the wind, he recited an exceedingly flirtatious and explicit poem.
The verses were so crude and blatant that even Leng Yue, who hadn't read much, understood them.
What kind of family was the Jing family?
A scholarly household, where even the maids washing pots and pans in the kitchen could compose poetry.
Leng Yue's martial arts weren't advanced enough to block sound from a distance, so she had no choice but to haul him down from the tree with a flushed face before he could start another poem.
"What kind of nonsense were you howling!"
"Hmm..." Jing Yi lay crooked on the ground, bound tightly by his own belt, his clothes disheveled. He blinked his watery eyes innocently at Leng Yue, whose face was red with embarrassment, and wriggled slightly, looking rather pitiful. "I just blurted out a few lines in fear... What did I howl?"
"...I didn't understand what you were howling!"
A perfectly obedient and pure smile spread across Jing Yi's exquisitely carved face. "You can repeat it, and I'll explain it to you."
"..."
Just as Leng Yue pinned Jing Yi down with her knee and gripped his neck with both hands, an infuriated roar came from nearby.
"Stop!"
It was Jing Qian's voice.
Leng Yue suddenly realized a somewhat serious problem.
This was the Jing family mansion, the person under her knee was the fourth young master of the Jing family, and the enraged person was his own third brother, born of the same mother.
In that moment, all the sayings about brothers being like limbs and women like clothes came to mind. Leng Yue dreaded to imagine the consequences of angering Jing Qian, who was usually so composed and unreadable.
Panicked, Leng Yue quickly released Jing Yi and stood up.
As she turned around, she saw Jing Qian, eyes wide with rage, holding a gleaming kitchen knife and charging toward her with murderous intent.
Wait...
He was chasing a hen that was sprinting wildly in her direction.
"Stop!"
"..."This was the most emotionally agitated, rosy-chested, and vigorous Leng Yue had ever seen Jing Qian since meeting him.
Thus, in her daze, Leng Yue only had eyes for Jing Qian, until the old hen swept past her and she snapped back to reality. In the blink of an eye, she caught the hen that had nearly plunged headfirst into the lotus pond.
Seeing his quarry captured, Jing Qian abandoned all pretense of gentlemanly demeanor or official dignity. His legs gave way, and he plopped onto the grass, clasping his hands repeatedly toward Leng Yue, too breathless to even utter a word of thanks.
Leng Yue, committed to seeing her good deed through, casually plucked a slender blade of grass from the pond’s edge and deftly bound the hen’s feet. Earnestly and kindly, she said, “Third Brother… Next time you’re chasing a chicken, put away your knife first. Bring some grain instead, and don’t shout ‘Stop, don’t move!’ Try ‘Cluck, cluck, cluck’—you might save yourself a few laps.”
“...”
Jing Qian, still panting heavily, said nothing, while Jing Yi was already curled up under a tree, laughing and rolling around.
He was truly laughing and rolling—vigorously on both counts.
So vigorously, in fact, that he forgot the tree was planted right beside the lotus pond.
Thus, before Leng Yue could even hand the chicken over to Jing Qian, a loud “splash” echoed.
“...”
“...”
By the time Leng Yue, her face dark, fished Jing Yi out of the lotus pond, Jing Qian’s complexion had improved considerably.
“Ahem…” Jing Qian rose leisurely from the ground, knife in one hand and the still-futilely struggling hen in the other. In his usual unflappable tone, he remarked mildly, “I have spare clothes in my room. Let’s go.”
“Thank you, Third Brother…”
And so, the servants enjoying their day off watched wide-eyed as the Third Young Master, hen in one hand and knife in the other, led the drenched Fourth Young Master and his wife calmly through the Jing family estate.
To this day, among the four Jing brothers, only the eldest, Jing Shi, and the third, Jing Qian, still resided in the main family compound. Jing Qian lived in the courtyard at the eastern end of the garden, where a vast grove of Malus halliana bloomed. By this season, the blossoms had long fallen, replaced by clusters of heavy fruit, sweet and enticing.
As they passed by, Jing Yi took advantage of Jing Qian’s inattention to stealthily pluck a fruit from a tree and pop it into his mouth—only to spit it out a moment later.
Witnessing this, Leng Yue completely abandoned any thought of pilfering fruit herself.
Hmm, Jing Yi was at least somewhat useful.
Jing Qian deposited the thoroughly exhausted hen into an empty flowerpot in the courtyard and led the two inside. He rummaged through his wardrobe and produced two sets of clothing: one for a man, one for a woman.
That Jing Qian could even dig out a set of men’s clothing that wasn’t an official uniform was surprising enough to Leng Yue. But when he handed her the delicate, pink women’s outfit, her jaw nearly hit the floor.
Jing Qian was neither married nor betrothed. He lived alone in his parents’ home, and there wasn’t the slightest hint of a female presence in his quarters. So, where did this women’s clothing come from…?
Could it be that Jing Qian wore it himself?
“Third Brother,” Leng Yue said, holding the exquisitely crafted, softly colored dress with some complexity of feeling, “I’m not really used to… wearing skirts.”
Jing Qian frowned slightly, took the women’s clothing from Leng Yue, and swapped it with the men’s outfit Jing Yi was holding. “There.”
“...”After Jing Qian refused to open the wardrobe again to find clothes and agreed to let the two stay in his room until their clothes dried, Jing Yi finally clutched the set of pink dress with a tearful expression and ducked behind the screen.
Whether it was because women's clothing was troublesome to put on, or because Jing Yi simply didn't want to come out after dressing, by the time Leng Yue had changed and emerged from the adjacent room, only Jing Qian remained seated at the table.
Leng Yue sat opposite Jing Qian, accepted the hot tea he handed her, took a small sip, and hesitated for a moment before saying, "Third Brother... there's something I'd like to ask you."
Jing Qian lowered his head to drink some tea. "That dress isn't mine."
"..."
Leng Yue steadied her teacup and composed herself before continuing, "No... I wanted to ask you, on the evening of August 13th, were you with Xiao Yunde, the owner of Linglong Porcelain Kiln?"
Jing Qian's brow furrowed slightly.
The movements behind the screen abruptly ceased.
After a long pause, Jing Qian asked in his usual calm voice, "What happened to Xiao Yunde?"
"He's dead."
Jing Qian frowned again and remained silent for another extended moment. Leng Yue didn't press him, quietly drinking her tea.
As she drank, Jing Yi finally emerged from behind the screen.
Leng Yue glanced up at him unintentionally and couldn't hold back a mouthful of water, which she spat out with a "pfft."
The dress fit Jing Yi perfectly - neither too big nor too small, neither too long nor too short.
Yes, even the bust measurement was just right.
Jing Yi's features were already among the more refined and elegant type for men, with handsome painting-like facial features, snow-white skin, and ink-black hair. Wearing such a pink dress with his damp hair cascading down, he resembled a lotus flower after rain, so beautiful that it made Leng Yue feel somewhat...
Ashamed.
In her astonishment, Leng Yue glanced at Jing Qian and felt even more ashamed.
Jing Qian sat directly opposite her and had been sprayed right in the face by her spit.
"Third Brother, I'm sorry..." Leng Yue flusteredly handed him a handkerchief, but Jing Qian seemed to take it in stride. He accepted the handkerchief, glanced at Jing Yi, then lowered his head to silently wipe his face.
With complex emotions, Leng Yue watched Jing Qian slowly wipe his face clean before finally hearing him say calmly, "I can tell you, but I have conditions."
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