My Scumbag Husband, the Prince Consort - Chapter 6

Shu Wan lifted her head with a trembling motion, first casting a pleading glance toward Shi Chun and the others. Seeing their impassive expressions, she finally scrunched her face in misery and knocked her head hard against the ground several times.

“Your Highness, please forgive me! This humble maid… I cannot say!”

“How dare you!” Zhi Xia raised her voice sharply. “The Princess questions you, and you dare withhold the truth? Watch your skin!”

Shi Chun added coldly, “Did I not speak to you earlier in the front courtyard? Once you’ve entered the Princess’s residence, you are part of her household. When the mistress asks a question, what reason is there not to answer?”

Mu Qiu chimed in as well: “Don’t think you’re still in Prince Danyang’s estate, or that the Prince Consort will shield you. Open your dog eyes and look clearly—who are you kneeling before? Who is your true master now?”

The three voices behind me echoed one louder than the last, like extensions of my will—yet none of them spoke the words I truly wanted to say. It was all this talk of master and servant, of loyalty and rank—enough to give me a headache.

Only Lian Dong stood silently, her face cold, calmly watching Shu Wan.

In that moment, I thought it through and arrived at a conclusion. Shi Chun must have brought her here on purpose, having already sensed something but unwilling to expose it openly.

Shu Wan’s entire appearance—her hairstyle, her dress—differed from the other maids. And having served so closely beside Liu Qi for years, it wasn’t hard for someone observant to notice her uniqueness.

Great Wei was unlike the Southern Song. Our nomadic ancestors had left behind this principle: husband and wife should be like wild geese—bound for life, inseparable in flight.

Though children of the steppe eventually adopted outside customs, such as polygamy, aristocratic women still clung to ancestral tradition. When they married, they asked for only one thing: mutual loyalty.

But then again, whether you’re a child of the steppe or an unlucky soul like me who came from the modern world—our understanding of marriage is surprisingly similar.

I rubbed my temple with two fingers and sighed. “Enough. If you won’t speak, I won’t force you. From now on, you’ll be reassigned to the wine cellar. Learn the trade under the cellar master. Someday, if you leave this residence, at least you’ll have a way to make a living.”

The moment I finished, Shu Wan broke into sobs, crawling forward to clutch my leg.

“Please, Your Highness! Don’t cast me out! I’ve served the Prince Consort since I was ten—six years now! I’ve always regarded him like an elder brother. My loyalty is clear to heaven and earth! I have no other wish but to serve him for the rest of my life!”

“Insolent girl!” Zhi Xia scolded, hands on hips. “What kind of lowly servant dares claim kinship with the Prince Consort?”

“Your Highness—please! I know I was wrong! Don’t drive me away. Without the Prince Consort, I might as well be dead!”

I’ve always hated women wailing and shrieking, and now this one is doing both at once. Disgusting.

She had dressed herself up like a flower in full bloom, making herself the most eye-catching in any crowd. That’s what made Shi Chun spot her and bring her to me. But now she speaks as if I were the one stirring up trouble for no reason?

Had she behaved properly, someone like me—dense and slow to suspicion—wouldn’t have noticed anything wrong.

But now she’s come uninvited, throwing herself into the spotlight. Likely because she heard Liu Qi stayed the night in my chambers. Feeling desperate, she made a reckless move.

All this whining and flailing—it’s nothing but a performance meant to sicken me.

By Great Wei’s law, I’d be merciful just not executing her on the spot. And she dares try to guilt-trip me?

Sorry—not something Jiang Yu has ever fallen for.

I know well: if you want a man to despise you, strike at the woman he holds closest. Humiliate her, and you humiliate him. I bet Liu Qi is no exception.

People say women shouldn’t make life hard for each other, but I, Jiang Yu, am a selfish person. And right now, I don’t have the luxury of virtue.

I spat out the jujube pit into my palm, flicked it between two fingers, and sent it flying toward her face. She instinctively dodged aside.

I gave a cold smile. “Shu Wan, was it? Are you familiar with Great Wei’s laws?”

Her small eyes—scarcely bigger than sour jujubes—flooded with tears like a dam burst. Honestly, I had to admire the drama.

She shook her head weakly. “This servant does not know.”

I gently lifted her chin, speaking with a mockingly kind tone. “Very well. The ignorant are not guilty. But I shall enlighten you: under Great Wei law, the Prince Consort is not permitted to take concubines.”

“Prince Danyang, Liu Lu, eats from the court’s hand and serves the Great Wei. His heir, Liu Qi, is no exception.”

“Back when he was in Southern Song, I had no authority over him. But now he’s here, in my household—he is a Wei man. He must follow Wei law.”

Shu Wan pulled at my hem pleadingly. “Your Highness, please understand. I know my status is low. I’ve never dared harbor inappropriate thoughts, and as for being the Prince Consort’s concubine—heaven forbid.

I’d never dare dream of such a thing.”

“If you don’t want to be his concubine, why cling to him?”

“If you had any sense, you’d take your assignment to the wine cellar seriously. Learn a trade. Maybe even make a name for yourself among the female stewards. Better that than lying beneath the Prince Consort like some shameful tool for his pleasure.”

I emphasized the last four words sharply. Each one struck like a blade.

Great Wei may have a freer spirit, a legacy of our nomadic bl00d—but the Southern court is conservative, especially the Song people.

When it comes to that kind of thing, they remain tight-lipped. And Shu Wan, still an unmarried girl, was no exception.

My words left her face a sickly greenish hue—like a jar of spoiled pickles—though her eyes kept shedding tears like she had a never-ending supply.

I was just about to send her away on some pretense when someone knocked at the outer doors. Mu Qiu went to speak quietly with them, then returned and leaned in to whisper.

“Your Highness, the gatekeeper reports—the Prince Consort has returned.”

“Perfect timing,” I said.

Glancing at Shu Wan, still on the floor, a weeping mess, I lifted my chin toward Mu Qiu. “Go fetch him. Tell him someone misses him dearly and wishes to see him one last time.”

Mu Qiu left. I smiled faintly, ambiguous in expression.

If I want Liu Qi to truly despise me, this little drama must play out to the end. Since Shu Wan went through all this trouble to offer herself up, how could I not accept her generosity?

Within the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, hurried footsteps approached from outside. Clearly, someone’s heart had just been pricked.

Liu Qi strode into the room and lifted the white jade curtain with one hand. Shu Wan immediately flung herself forward, kneeling before him in a flurry.

This time, she didn’t dare grab his robes. She just looked up with tearful, adoring eyes full of silent plea.

“My lord, please—I beg you. Don’t let them send me away. I don’t want to work in the wine cellar. I only want to serve you.”

Liu Qi furrowed his brows slightly, but soon relaxed them. His tone was calm.

“Who said you were being sent to the wine cellar?”

Shu Wan didn’t dare answer. She had her back to me, but I could imagine her expression—probably trying her best to silently complain with her eyes.

I picked up my teacup, wet my throat, and spoke clearly.

“Who else could it be but me?”

Liu Qi wore a robe of deep blue gauze, quite different from last night’s black silk. The wide collar revealed a glimpse of white underlayers, giving him an air of scholarly grace.

He wore a dark traveling cap, a jade pendant at his waist glowing softly. He radiated poise and elegance, detached yet captivating—like the moon setting over Huating, eclipsing even the brightest blossoms.

But the look in his eyes wasn’t simple.

There was confusion there—and doubt.

Before he could speak, Shu Wan began choking on her sobs again. She turned and kowtowed to me.

“I do not know how I offended Your Highness. Whatever punishment you decide, I accept. Just… for the sake of all the years I’ve served the Prince Consort, please let me stay. I swear on my departed brother’s name—I’ll never appear before Your Highness again. I won’t offend your eyes another day.”

Maybe it was my imagination, but when she mentioned her “brother,” Liu Qi’s brows knit ever so slightly.

The moment she finished, he said, “If she’s unwilling, why force her, Your Highness?”

“Everyone in Wei knows the Princess is kind, gracious, and understanding. If not for some mistake on her part, why would you cast her out?”

His words seemed to scold Shu Wan—but between the lines, they blamed me. Thinly veiled sarcasm.

Kind and gracious? Understanding? That would better describe Yuan Shuang. Since the day I took over this body, not one of my actions has matched those words.

Clearly, Liu Qi was taking shots at me.

Not bad. These two want to play games? I, Jiang Yu, can play.

I may not bully the weak or fear the strong, but I know how to serve up the right dish for the right guest.

Years in society taught me: if someone respects me a foot, I give them a yard.

But if someone dares dig up my family’s farmland—I’ll raze their ancestral tomb.

I rubbed my fingertips together, barely holding in a chuckle.

Ah, to expose a scheming little green tea girl right in front of a man—how deliciously satisfying.

Covering my mouth with a handkerchief, I coughed softly. “The Prince Consort speaks truly. My reputation precedes me—gracious and virtuous indeed.”

“Sending you to the wine cellar is no punishment. It’s a reward. You’ve served him long and well. You’re getting older, and if you ever leave this household, you’ll need a skill to survive.”

“I’m thinking of your future. That’s why I arranged a good path. A reward, not a penalty.”

“But you—so muddled in right and wrong, crying before your master and embarrassing me—what a disappointment.”

“You’ve served my husband for years, and still learned nothing. If I keep you, what use would you be?”

Since Liu Qi wanted to put me on a pedestal, I climbed higher and leaned right into it. When I said “my husband,” I added weight and sweetness to the phrase, making sure both of them heard loud and clear who ruled this household.

If Shu Wan wanted to play victim, I’d show her how it’s really done.

As expected, my words left her speechless. She opened and closed her mouth like a fish, not a single coherent syllable coming out.

And I—never one to show mercy to enemies—gave her no room to breathe.

Shi Chun once told me: Southerners are unlike us. They’ve long practiced polygamy, flaunting wives and concubines as signs of status. In the Southern Song, the more concubines a man had, the more important he was. Some even kept household courtesans for pleasure.

To Southern men, women weren’t people—they were objects. Like hats or robes: wear them if you like, toss them aside when bored.

There would always be a newer, more fashionable robe. And always a younger, prettier girl.

But too many women breeds jealousy—and chaos.

So Southerners despised jealous women above all. They saw jealousy as ugly, a woman’s greatest failing.

That’s why Shu Wan, after learning the Prince Consort had stayed in my chambers last night, dared only test the waters in secret—never openly confront me.

She feared my rank.

Feared Liu Qi’s displeasure.

But I wasn’t afraid. I wanted Liu Qi’s displeasure. I welcomed it.

And now… was the perfect time.