Mistakenly Treated The Princess As A Concubine - Chapter 4

Wen Zhuojin was unable to leave through the main entrance. Before she could even step out of the courtyard, she was intercepted by Marquis Jing’an, who had brought people with him.

“Ah Zhuo, stay in your courtyard and don’t stir up trouble. The situation outside is complicated right now, and the Marquis Manor could easily be dragged into it. Besides, what can you do even if you go out? I’ll handle things outside, and if there’s any news, someone will inform you. It’s cold—hurry and help your young lady back inside!” Marquis Jing’an, Wen Heming, said to Wen Zhuojin. His tone was still relatively gentle but clearly more authoritative than usual.

Before Wen Zhuojin could say much, the two servant women brought by Marquis Jing’an stepped forward, ready to act.

Feeling anxious, Wen Zhuojin glanced at her father, who usually spoke to her in a soft voice. After a moment of hesitation, she refused the servants’ help, grabbed Nanny Jiang, and turned back toward her own courtyard.

“Stay indoors for the next few days,” came Wen Heming’s voice from behind. Wen Zhuojin didn’t respond.

When she first heard what Nanny Jiang said, Wen Zhuojin had panicked.

Now, she had calmed down considerably.

Her uncle’s character made it impossible for him to be involved in embezzlement.

Someone must be framing him.

Even finding gold during the raid didn’t prove anything. After all, the Changyuan Bo Manor had been a noble family for generations, with wealth beyond what salaries could explain.

If those in power were truly discerning, they would uncover the truth. If not, then the charge of embezzlement—and the outcome—would depend entirely on what those in power wanted to achieve.

Wen Zhuojin began to suspect that this was another scheme devised by the Eldest Princess to extort silver or, perhaps, to eliminate political rivals.

After all, her uncle did not revere the Heavenly Goddess and was not aligned with the Eldest Princess.

“Alas, I wonder if the Marquis will help. Miss, why don’t I go out to see what’s happening? I’ll bring back any news I hear,” Nanny Jiang said to Wen Zhuojin, clearly mistrusting Wen Heming.

“Nanny, it’s snowing outside, and your legs aren’t in good shape. I’ll figure out a way to go out and check,” Wen Zhuojin replied.

“But how will you get out, Miss? The Marquis has left those two servants in the courtyard to keep watch. If anything really happens to the Changyuan Bo family, what will you do?” Nanny Jiang said, growing more and more anxious.

Wen Zhuojin’s position in the Marquis Manor largely depended on the influence of her maternal family.

When Wen Zhuojin’s birth mother passed away, her uncle had already been displeased with Wen Heming. Wen Heming, who had always been somewhat intimidated by this powerful brother-in-law in court, dared not protest back then. Even when selecting a second wife for the Marquis Manor, he had to consider her uncle’s opinions and dared not marry anyone who might offend him. In the end, he elevated a low-ranking concubine to the position of second wife.

Now that her maternal family was in trouble, Nanny Jiang, who knew the full story, couldn’t help but feel waves of unease rising in her heart.

Wen Zhuojin watched Nanny Jiang push her down into a chair to sit, then turned and entered the inner room.

Though she usually disliked trouble, she wasn’t afraid of it when it arose—especially when it concerned her uncle’s family.

Nanny Jiang, intending to send the quick-footed Zirong out, was about to instruct her on what to do when she saw Wen Zhuojin emerge from the room.

Both Nanny Jiang and Zirong were stunned.

Wen Zhuojin had changed out of her feminine attire and into men’s clothing.

Her hair was simply tied up high, adorned with a single jade hairpin. She wore a moon-white round-collared robe, a sash belt around her waist, and black leather boots on her feet, presenting the appearance of a handsome young gentleman.

“Miss, what are you…” Nanny Jiang was too shocked to find the words.

“I’ll wear a veiled hat; no one will recognize me. Let Baitan pretend to be me for now. Don’t worry, I’ll be back soon,” Wen Zhuojin said as she adjusted her hat and prepared to leave.

The other young maids, seeing Wen Zhuojin like this, couldn’t hide the sparkle in their eyes.

Wen Zhuojin, dressed like this, was even more striking than the young men outside.

“Miss, how can I let you go out like this? Besides, how will you get past those two servant women outside? They won’t let you leave,” Nanny Jiang said, grabbing Wen Zhuojin’s arm.

“I’ll climb over the wall. I’ve done it plenty of times during the summer—Zirong can vouch for that. Don’t worry, Nanny. Take care of things in Qinfang Pavilion and make sure Father doesn’t notice anything. I’ll handle it.” Seeing Nanny Jiang’s worried expression, Wen Zhuojin lowered her voice and reassured her. She patted Nanny Jiang’s hand, then turned toward the western window in the outer room, opened it, and jumped out.

By the time Nanny Jiang rushed to the window, Wen Zhuojin was already far down the road.

Nanny Jiang wanted to say that Wen Zhuojin was dressed too lightly, without even carrying a hand warmer. What if she caught a chill? But with the two servant women guarding outside, she dared not raise her voice and could only watch helplessly as Wen Zhuojin walked further away.

Outside lay a small garden, and beyond it stood a wall.

Nanny Jiang watched in disbelief as the young lady she had carefully raised—a pampered and refined girl—lightly jumped up, grasped the top of the wall with both hands, and with a quick exertion of her legs, vaulted over it. Over it!

This was the very girl Nanny Jiang had raised under her watchful eye, the one who was always so gentle, courteous, and proper—a paragon of a noblewoman. When had she learned how to climb walls?

The fact that Wen Zhuojin could climb walls shocked Nanny Jiang more than the morning news about the raid on the Changyuan Bo Manor.

“Th-this… Miss learned it while staying at the Changyuan Bo Manor with the young master. It’s been a few years now. She said Nanny would worry too much and told me not to tell you…” Zirong stammered when Nanny Jiang questioned her.

What Zirong didn’t dare mention was that Wen Zhuojin hadn’t only learned to climb walls at her uncle’s house. She had also picked up climbing trees, horseback riding, archery, and just about everything else her cousin had mastered. In fact, she had fallen twice the previous year due to horseback riding.

When Wen Zhuojin was younger and visited the Changyuan Bo Manor, Nanny Jiang used to accompany her. However, later on, Nanny Jiang stayed behind at Qinfang Pavilion to tend to the flowers, herbs, and incense materials in the courtyard. With her legs not in the best shape and the Changyuan Bo Manor being considered safe, Nanny Jiang had been reassigned by Wen Zhuojin to oversee matters back home.

Who could have guessed that in those few years, the girl had grown… crooked?

While Nanny Jiang was feeling deeply unsettled, Wen Zhuojin had already left the Marquis Jing’an Manor.

Waiting beneath the wall she had climbed over was a servant boy.

“You’re here? What’s the situation? Tell me quickly,” Wen Zhuojin asked, recognizing him as one of her cousin’s attendants.

“The young master instructed me to wait here to stop you, Miss. He said this is a matter for men to handle, and you shouldn’t get involved. The young master has already gone to see the Prime Minister, and there will surely be a turning point in this matter. Miss, please go back,” the servant boy said with a bowed posture.

Wen Zhuojin paused.

Even in such a dire situation, her uncle’s family still had the presence of mind to send someone to stop her. Clearly, they didn’t want to implicate her.

“Don’t stop me. I need to meet with my cousin. Go and tell him to meet me at Shengfeng Pavilion. Tell him that if he doesn’t come, I won’t leave,” Wen Zhuojin said firmly. Without waiting for the servant boy to respond, she strode quickly forward.

The servant boy had no choice but to hurry after her.

Shengfeng Pavilion was a shop under Wen Zhuojin’s name that dealt in silk goods.

When she arrived, Wen Zhuojin immediately found the shopkeeper, checked the accounts, and requested silver. She also sent someone to collect outstanding payments from her other shops.

While Wen Zhuojin was going through the accounts, her elder cousin, Wu Yuanheng, arrived.

“Ah Zhuo, you’re so clever—how could you not realize that now is the time to avoid suspicion? I told you to stay at home, yet here you are! Go back immediately!” Wu Yuanheng said anxiously, his expression weary.

Wen Zhuojin looked up at her cousin, put down the abacus, and handed him the small bundle she had brought.

“Now is the time when silver is most needed. Take this and use it to smooth things over. I’ll think of a way to gather more silver,” Wen Zhuojin said.

Wen Zhuojin had inherited her mother’s dowry, which included several shops and estates. She also received a monthly allowance from the Marquis Manor and was often gifted various valuable items by her uncle’s family. She had never had to worry about her livelihood.

Just the purchase of incense materials for her studies in incense arts was already a considerable expense. Although Wen Zhuojin was not short on money, the amount of liquid silver she had on hand was limited.

The small bundle she handed over contained land deeds, silver, and part of the dowry her uncle and aunt had given her before the New Year.

Compared to what the Marquis Manor had prepared, her dowry from her uncle’s family was much more generous. Her aunt had assured her to take it without worry, saying her sons could earn what they needed, but Wen Zhuojin, as a young lady marrying into a prestigious family like the Duke of Rong’s household, needed her dowry to secure her position and avoid being looked down upon.

Now that her uncle’s family was in trouble, Wen Zhuojin had brought out everything she could, even adding her most valuable jewelry into the bundle.

Even if a crime had truly been committed, given the current methods of extortion practiced by the Princess Royal, exchanging silver for lives might still be feasible.

“Ah Zhuo, keep your silver. Father’s matter is no small issue. Today, there was much turmoil in court. Many officials have been accused under various charges, and a rebellion case has implicated dozens of people… all of them have been sent to the Ministry of Justice. I sought out the Prime Minister, but even he is barely protecting himself. Were it not for his extensive connections and impeccable reputation, he might not have escaped unscathed either,” Wu Yuanheng explained.

“Are they all officials who don’t revere the Celestial Lady?” Wen Zhuojin asked in shock.

“Almost all of them. Father used to say the Princess Royal was not unreasonable. He believed that his faction, which is more loyal to the court than the Celestial Lady’s devotees, could balance power. Now it’s clear—it was all a ploy. The court had just begun to stabilize, and now she’s already discarding the bow after the birds are gone…” Wu Yuanheng said angrily.

Wen Zhuojin wanted to suggest that her uncle immediately convert to worshiping the Celestial Lady and pledge allegiance to the Princess Royal.

But thinking of her uncle’s temperament, doing so at this moment would likely make him even more defiant. Besides, the issue wasn’t as simple as religious beliefs.

“No matter what, we must first ensure Uncle’s safety. In this bitter cold, you need to bribe people to send food and warm clothes to him to ensure he doesn’t suffer. The family’s silver has been confiscated, but Aunt and my cousins still need to live. Take this silver and use it as needed. If you refuse, I’ll go to your house openly and even file a petition on Uncle’s behalf,” Wen Zhuojin said firmly.

“Ah Zhuo, you… Fine, I’ll take it. But promise me you won’t get involved in anything else. I’ll think of a way,” Wu Yuanheng said with a helpless shake of his head as he accepted the bundle.

“Alright,” Wen Zhuojin nodded as she saw her cousin relent.

“Ah Zhuo, don’t go seeking help from your father or the Duke of Rong’s household. I’ve already tried, and they shut the door in my face. Everyone is fearing for themselves now. Father’s matter might even affect you. If that Shen Yuque dares wrong you, I will never forgive him,” Wu Yuanheng said after some hesitation, warning Wen Zhuojin not to humiliate herself by begging for help only to be rejected.

“I understand, Cousin. Better to see it clearly now—if he can’t weather hardships with me, then he’s not worth having,” Wen Zhuojin replied.

The seemingly perfect fiancé had revealed his flaws in the face of adversity. That was fine with her.

Wen Zhuojin’s outward composure and optimism only deepened Wu Yuanheng’s sense of guilt.

After reassuring him with a few words and asking for more specific updates, Wen Zhuojin watched her cousin leave quickly, as he had other pressing matters to attend to.

Once alone, Wen Zhuojin organized the accounts she had gathered earlier. Thinking back to the court turmoil Wu Yuanheng described, she understood the gravity of her uncle’s predicament. The silver she had handed over would certainly not be enough.

Frowning, she began to worry about how to raise more funds.

Among her remaining valuables were the handmade blended incense she had created and a collection of rare aromatic materials she had been curating for years.

However, selling incense in Northern Jin was fraught with risk. The private sale of incense and aromatic materials, particularly blended incense used in sacrificial ceremonies, was strictly prohibited.

For instance, even when visiting the Heavenly Xuan Temple, the incense sticks used for offerings had to be purchased exclusively from the temple itself.

The incense trade was monopolized by official stores and imperial merchants, with severe penalties for private sales.

Given the immense profits in this business, the court maintained a tight grip to ensure it reaped all the benefits.

Wen Zhuojin realized that her incense and materials could only be sold back to the official stores, limiting their potential value.

The items she had acquired over the years had cost her over ten thousand taels of silver. She could only hope that selling them would recover a reasonable amount.

Since she had left in a rush earlier that day, Wen Zhuojin hadn’t brought much with her. Knowing that Nanny Jiang and the others were waiting for her, she decided to return to the Marquis Manor after receiving the silver collected by the shopkeeper.

Upon her return, she offered a few comforting words to reassure everyone before heading to her private storeroom to take stock of her assets.

As she inventoried her supplies, Wen Zhuojin selected several aromatic materials and began crafting blended incense.

Blended incense was the most valuable of all her creations—provided she could find someone who recognized its worth.

Wen Zhuojin’s attempt to sell her handcrafted incense proved to be a disheartening experience. Dressed once again in her disguise as a young man, she had approached the official store, carrying several carefully crafted incense pills.

In the days leading up to her visit, she had remained vigilant about the escalating situation in the capital. Wu Yuanheng regularly sent updates, and the news was grim.

The once untouchable Grand Princess seemed to have lost all restraint. Those detained on dubious charges had mostly been convicted. Many prominent families in the capital were implicated. Male members were sentenced to military exile, while the women were consigned to the degrading confines of the Jiaofang Division.

The entire capital, Yunjing, was shrouded in despair.

Among the convicted families were acquaintances of Wen Zhuojin’s uncle, including noble ladies she had once known or married women now reclassified as commoners and sent to the Jiaofang Division.

Although her uncle’s situation was comparatively better—thanks to the Chancellor’s protection and the bribes her family managed to provide—his danger was far from over. More silver was needed to secure his safety, or exile and humiliation seemed inevitable.

Wen Zhuojin had already sold most of her estates and shops. Together with the silver Wu Yuanheng had managed to gather, they could only guarantee her aunt and cousins’ safety, while her uncle remained imprisoned.

Determined, Wen Zhuojin climbed over the walls of the Marquis Manor once more, carrying the few incense pills she had crafted. Her hope was that selling them to the official store might yield a substantial amount.

However, her efforts were met with disdain.

“This is privately made and hasn’t gone through the official process,” the store clerk said lazily. “No matter what materials you’ve used, there’s no guarantee it’s harmless. At most, these few incense pills are worth two taels of silver.”

Wen Zhuojin’s chest tightened. She had expected a low offer but not this insultingly paltry sum. She knew that inferior incense sold by the official store easily fetched hundreds of taels per pill.

Seeing the clerk’s dismissive attitude, she took back her incense without another word and left the store. Beneath her veil, her face was ashen.

It dawned on her with piercing clarity: her passion for incense-making, no matter how refined, was dismissed as trivial and unofficial—merely a frivolous pastime.

Her steps faltered as she left, her spirit weighed down by frustration and helplessness. Yet, despite the setback, Wen Zhuojin knew she couldn’t give up. More silver had to be found, no matter the cost.

Only her uncle and aunt spoiled her, helping her find incense materials and encouraging her to pursue whatever she liked, as long as it wasn’t a bad habit.

On the other hand, Wen Heming had never approved in the past, but he also didn’t dare intervene.

Wen Zhuojin sighed, holding back the unpleasant smells in the market, and walked around for a bit.

A team of officers was patrolling the area, and Wen Zhuojin smelled bl00d and the scent of iron weapons.

She felt some disgust toward these officers.

Wearing her veil to conceal her identity, she didn’t want to run into anyone, so she intentionally avoided the main road and walked into an alley.

To her surprise, after walking for a while, she was greeted by a heavy scent of powder. Looking up, she saw a building with exquisite carvings and flying eaves, standing prominently in the market. The plaque displayed the words “Xiao Xiang Guan.”

This was a famous brothel in Yunjing.

It was probably a place where many who used incense gathered.

Wen Zhuojin unconsciously walked closer, and the scent of incense grew even stronger.

Many of the cheap incense here were harsh, pungent, and chaotic, lacking in depth. The smell hit her nose, making her want to cover her face.

As Wen Zhuojin hesitated whether to enter, a heavily made-up woman approached her.

The scent on the woman made Wen Zhuojin instinctively take a few steps back.
“First time here, young master? Come in and take a look, no harm in that—we don’t bite.” The woman laughed coyly, reaching out as if to pull her inside.

Wen Zhuojin quickly pulled her sleeve out of the woman’s grasp, preparing to leave at once.

But then, faintly, she caught a familiar cool scent lingering in the air.

It was the same fragrance she had smelled at the Heavenly Xuan Temple—the one resembling Shy Blush Flower.

This time, it was much lighter than before, but Wen Zhuojin couldn’t mistake it.

The fragrance felt out of place here.

She stopped in her tracks, but the woman pulled her inside.

“What kind of lady does the young master prefer? At Xiao Xiang Pavilion, we have every type. If you prefer men, we have that too…” the woman said with a seductive smile, her voice dripping with allure.

Wen Zhuojin cleared her throat and tried to remain calm.

Though she was brave, this was the first time she’d ever been to such a place. Her hand instinctively reached for the dagger hanging from her belt.

“Miss, the scent here isn’t very pleasant. Please take me to a private room,” Wen Zhuojin said in a husky voice, pulling her sleeve away and pressing a few silver coins into the woman’s hand.

“Such generosity, young master. Of course, we can do that. Please, follow me.” The woman smiled widely and led the way.

Wen Zhuojin followed the woman deeper into the pavilion.

The fragrance still lingered, and if it weren’t for her keen sense of smell, it would have been difficult to identify it amidst the chaotic scents of the place.

The Xiao Xiang Pavilion was full of guests, and it was possible that some of them had visited the Heavenly Xuan Temple before, carrying the scent with them.

Even after several days, the scent persisted, a clear sign of the high-quality incense.

Wen Zhuojin hadn’t come here to track down the source of the fragrance. Her priority was to sell the incense she had made.

Though it was still daylight, the pavilion wasn’t as lively as it was at night. It felt relatively quiet, but the air was thick with the sounds of weeping and cursing.

“Don’t mind those sounds. The Jiaofang Si is overcrowded right now. Some of the people sent here are newcomers, still full of pride, crying and wailing all day,” the woman explained as she led Wen Zhuojin deeper into the building.

Wen Zhuojin furrowed her brows. The news she had received from Wu Yuanheng had only conveyed one simple sentence.

Yet, hearing these pitiful cries firsthand, she could deeply feel the harsh reality.

A single word from a high-ranking noble could lead to consequences that ordinary people could never bear.

As the woman led Wen Zhuojin upstairs, a sudden scream pierced the air, followed by the loud sound of a door crashing open.

Wen Zhuojin looked toward the source of the noise, only to see a young man clutching his bleeding neck, rolling out of one of the rooms. At the same time, the faint fragrance that had been lingering grew slightly stronger.

Not far away, the door to a room was wide open, and a gauzy curtain swayed in the breeze. Inside, she could vaguely see a woman with long, disheveled hair sitting gracefully. Her figure was delicate, and a bloodstained sleeve was visible, an unsettling sight.

Wen Zhuojin’s heart skipped a beat.

The woman in front of her seemed to overlap with the one from her dream a few nights ago, the one whose face she couldn’t clearly see.