The Prime Minister Knows How to Handle Her Wife (ABO, GL) - Chapter 29

Chapter 29

That night,

Inside Yicui Tower.

Red lanterns hung high, and people leaning on wooden railings tossed colorful handkerchiefs downward, with the sounds of soft voices and clinking wine cups filling the air.

In the main hall, Meng Qingxin and Xiao Jing, rarely seen on the first floor, sat leaning back in their chairs with hazy drunkenness in their eyes, yet they still laughed and talked about something.

The people nearby listened intently, and when the two paused, someone hurriedly picked up a wine jug and poured into the cups they held.

As soon as the wine filled the cups, the person couldn’t help but urge, “You two, quickly tell us, how did Your Highness Ninth figure it out?”

Meng Qingxin deliberately put on airs, lowered her head, sipped her wine, savored it slowly, and then said, “What kind of person is our Your Highness Ninth?”

“Although she has no interest in studying, when it comes to eating, drinking, gambling, and playing, what isn’t she skilled at? Fan Zicheng’s authentic works are extremely rare, but for Your Highness Ninth, they’re just something she can easily get her hands on. She had closely examined a few authentic pieces before, so when she saw that fake painting, she immediately felt something was off.”

At this point, she paused again, giving a meaningful smile as she looked around.

The crowd’s curiosity had already been piqued. A few days ago, they heard Your Highness Ninth cleverly obtained an authentic Fan Zicheng painting, but they didn’t know the details. Now, finally hearing the full story, especially since it came from the much-talked-about competition a few days ago, they were itching with curiosity, desperate for Meng Qingxin to finish her tale.

“Grandma, don’t stop there!” the crowd said with wry smiles.

Meng Qingxin lazily leaned back in her chair, stacked her thumb and index finger together, and gave a light snap, her meaning clear.

Looking at Xiao Jing beside her, she didn’t intervene, just turned her head to look elsewhere, letting Meng Qingxin do as she pleased.

Meng Qingxin continued, “At that time, only Xiao Jing and I were beside Your Highness Ninth, and we saw with our own eyes how that fake painting turned into a real one…”

Those who could afford to drink at Yicui Tower weren’t short on silver notes. Immediately, they handed over note after note, stuffing a large stack into Meng Qingxin’s hands, collectively pleading, “Grandma, just tell us already!”

Only then did Meng Qingxin speak, embellishing the story of what happened before, heavily praising Sheng Shiyue, and then saying mockingly, “I don’t know where Xu Zhengming got that painting, to have such a treasure mountain and not even know it.”

After hearing this, the crowd marveled at how extraordinary the painting’s acquisition was and joined in the laughter.

Then Meng Qingxin suddenly spoke, saying, “Do you all want to see that painting?”

How could they not want to?

The crowd quickly responded.

Meng Qingxin glanced around, lowered her voice, and said, “Your Highness Ninth casually mentioned a few days ago that she wants to sell this painting.”

Someone asked, puzzled, “Your Highness isn’t short on money, so why would she sell the painting?”

Meng Qingxin immediately rolled her eyes and said, “She’s not short on money, but she dislikes Xu Zhengming. She doesn’t like anything that’s passed through his hands. Didn’t she sell that lute and cricket to someone else last time?”

The crowd suddenly understood, then chatted idly for a while before dispersing. Before long, the story spread throughout Yicui Tower, and by tomorrow, it would become the talk of all Bianjing.

No one knew how furious Xu Zhengming, still lying in bed, became, but plenty of angry smashing sounds came from the Eighth Princess’s mansion.

A few days later, Meng Qingxin spread word that Sheng Shiyue entrusted the painting to Yicui Tower to sell on her behalf, with the highest bidder taking it. Thus, this widely hyped authentic painting was hung in the first floor of Yicui Tower.

Guests coming and going crowded into the small building, filling every private room except for the small boat in the center of the lake.

Some were collectors determined to acquire the painting, some were idle onlookers there for the excitement, and others had ulterior motives, vowing to take the painting.

Sheng Shiyue and her two companions had slipped into a private room through the back door early on, unwilling to miss the spectacle.

After resting for half a month, Sheng Shiyue was finally able to go out. The usually lazy person, having lain in bed for so long, refused to sit down and leaned against the window ledge where no one could see, watching the commotion.

Fan Zicheng’s authentic works in circulation were rare, and this painting, hidden within a fake one and steeped in a dramatic story, had been deliberately hyped by Sheng Shiyue and her group. As a result, many bidders fiercely competed, refusing to back down.

A shout came from a third-floor private room, “Two thousand taels!”

Yicui Tower fell silent for a moment. Two years ago, someone sold a Fan Zicheng landscape painting of similar style for only twelve hundred taels, but now someone bid two thousand taels for this one.

A hint of joy appeared on Meng Qingxin’s face as she lowered her voice and said, “Is that Xu Zhengming?”

Indeed, this auction was set up for the mastermind behind the previous competition. Using the public opinion in the capital, they had mocked Xu Zhengming and the Eighth Princess behind him for days, but that wasn’t enough—they planned to swindle them again at Yicui Tower.

This group of second-generation nobles, pampered and arrogant from a young age, couldn’t stand it. Even Xu Zhengming’s cricket and lute falling into others’ hands had infuriated him, prompting him to target Sheng Shiyue repeatedly, let alone a treasure like this that slipped through his fingers by mistake.

The most laughable thing was that these people, who spent their days admiring poetry and paintings, priding themselves on their refined elegance, failed to spot the clue. Instead, it was the idle dandy they looked down on, who spent her days cockfighting and dog-walking, that recognized it.

Wasn’t this a blatant slap to their faces?

So, to salvage their last shred of dignity, they absolutely couldn’t let this painting fall into someone else’s hands. Even if they had to buy it at a high price and let it gather dust in storage, they couldn’t let it circulate outside. Otherwise, every time the painting was shown, they’d be reminded of it, and their faces would sting even more.

Just moments after the two-thousand-tael bid, a clear voice came from the left private room, “Two thousand five hundred taels.”

Meng Qingxin turned her head to look, suddenly hesitating, “Is this the one?”

Sheng Shiyue hadn’t mentioned the Eighth Princess to them, so both assumed this was about Xu Zhengming, not expecting two parties to bid such high prices.

Another shout came from the right private room, “Two thousand six hundred taels.”

The voice trembled slightly, as if they’d put their entire fortune on the line.

Meng Qingxin touched her chin, muttering, “I think this one sounds more like that Xu Zhengming kid.”

Xiao Jing nodded, finally speaking, “That’s indeed the voice of Xu Zhengming’s personal servant.”

Then the other side…

Sheng Shiyue’s mind was clear as a mirror, casually tossing a fruit into her mouth.

The alliance between Xu Zhengming and the Eighth Princess wasn’t solid. For something so humiliating, they didn’t even coordinate.

But it made sense. The Xu family clearly supported the Sixth Princess. For Xu Zhengming, the youngest son, to act on a whim and work with the Eighth Princess—if the Sixth Princess found out, wouldn’t she suspect the Xu family of playing both sides, not truly loyal to her? It might not matter in the short term, but once suspicion took root, it would only grow, inevitably creating a rift over time.

So, after this was over, Xu Zhengming would surely distance himself from the Eighth Princess.

She touched her chin, wondering how he explained his role in inviting Qu Yu to play polo.

As her thoughts wandered, the two sides had driven the price up to three thousand taels. Xu Zhengming’s side seemed to give up, staying silent for a long time.

At this moment, Sheng Shiyue glanced back. In the corner of the private room stood a woman, nearly twenty, with an utterly ordinary face and figure, the kind easily forgotten in a crowd.

Sheng Shiyue called out, “Tian Ling, three thousand five hundred taels.”

The woman immediately stepped forward, her cheeks twitching slightly, her Adam’s apple sliding down, and then she shouted, “Three thousand five hundred taels.”

The voice was loud and rough, like a fifty-year-old fat man yelling.

Meng Qingxin and Xiao Jing froze, unable to connect the voice to the frail woman before them.

Sheng Shiyue nodded slightly.

This woman was one of the imprisoned Thousand Gates members. She seemed ordinary but had a unique talent: after hearing a sound, she could mimic it perfectly, whether it was bird calls, insect chirps, human speech, or other noises—everything was lifelike.

It was her voice that had tricked the guards into opening the door.

A few days ago, when Sheng Shiyue mentioned this, Ye Liuyun, for some reason, brought up this woman and pleaded on behalf of Madam Jin.

So, Sheng Shiyue agreed—if Madam Jin lent her Tian Ling for a day, she’d give Madam Jin a chance to explain.

Hearing a new bidder, the crowd buzzed with discussion, wondering who this fool was, paying several times the price for a painting.

The Eighth Princess’s side refused to give up, shouting, “Four thousand taels.”

Sheng Shiyue’s side immediately countered, “Four thousand five hundred taels.”

“Five thousand taels.”

As soon as the bid landed, Yicui Tower erupted in clamor.

A single acre of good farmland cost only twenty taels. Five thousand taels could buy two hundred fifty acres, enough to turn an ordinary farmer into a wealthy household, ensuring a lifetime of comfort for their family.

“Six thousand taels,” Sheng Shiyue’s side pressed on relentlessly.

The Eighth Princess’s side hesitated, momentarily silent, but then a servant knocked on Sheng Shiyue’s private room door.

Meng Qingxin went to the door, peeked through the crack, saw it was a Yicui Tower servant, and let her in.

The servant carried a wooden tray with a golden token engraved with the character “eight.” It was obvious who the token belonged to.

Meng Qingxin and Xiao Jing gasped, exclaiming, “So the one on the left is the Eighth Princess!”

“Isn’t she still under house arrest? How did she sneak here to join the fun?”

Sheng Shiyue didn’t speak, only glancing at them.

Was this so surprising? She herself had slipped out during house arrest to drink and have fun with Meng Qingxin and others. Had they forgotten?

Of course, Meng Qingxin and Xiao Jing hadn’t forgotten. Meng Qingxin gave an awkward laugh and explained, “I didn’t expect the Eighth Princess to do something like this.”

Xiao Jing, more thoughtful, said, “She’s still fuming, yet the Eighth Princess dares to sneak out at such risk, even exposing her identity, just to buy this painting…”

She couldn’t figure it out and didn’t dare to dwell on it.

Sheng Shiyue tsked, looked at the servant, and asked, “Did you show this token to the people in the right private room too?”

The servant nodded immediately.

No wonder Xu Zhengming stopped bidding—the Eighth Princess had been forced to reveal her identity.

Ning Qingge had previously hinted that Yicui Tower was closely tied to her, likely her property. So, Sheng Shiyue asked without hesitation.

Hearing this, the two beside her recalled how Yicui Tower had helped cover things up last time and began to understand, but the Eighth Princess…

The left side finally bid again, “Six thousand one hundred taels.”

They probably thought Sheng Shiyue’s side, having seen the token, would stop bidding.

Sheng Shiyue smiled, looked at Tian Ling, and said, “Can you mimic the voice of the bidder on the right?”

Tian Ling immediately replied, “Yes.”

Sheng Shiyue called the servant over, instructed him to take Tian Ling to an empty private room on the right, and told Tian Ling to stop at ten thousand taels.

Hurried footsteps faded into the distance. The night grew darker, dimming the red lanterns, with shadows quietly spreading across corners, claiming more space.

Just as the Eighth Princess thought she could secure the painting, a shout came from the right, “Seven thousand taels!”

The woman in the shadows darkened her expression, her right hand tightening, crushing the teacup in her grip.

“Your Highness Eighth…” her servant stepped forward nervously.

But she spat out, word by word, “Eight thousand taels.”

The servant immediately repeated it.

“Nine thousand taels!”

The Eighth Princess stood up and said, “Ten thousand taels!”

The servant repeated again.

The crowd below was stunned numb. Paying ten times the price for a painting—who could say if this person was a fool or just so rich they had nowhere else to spend their money? But one thing was clear: by tomorrow, Bianjing would have a new notorious spendthrift to rival Sheng Shiyue.

The other side finally fell silent. The Eighth Princess, furious, kicked her servant and cursed, “Hurry up and get it! Are you waiting for Xu Zhengming to bid again?!”

She didn’t know why Xu Zhengming suddenly bid again or what his goal was, but she mentally noted it, even suspecting he had some shady deal with Sheng Shiyue’s group. Otherwise, how could they have only won against him in that supposedly surefire competition?

Her face grew colder as her thoughts drifted to the Sixth Princess.

On the other side, Meng Qingxin gasped in disbelief, both shocked and delighted, “It actually sold for ten thousand taels?!”

Her family’s annual income was only ten thousand taels. She pulled out her golden abacus from her waist, clicking it loudly, her mind and eyes filled with nothing but ten thousand taels—ten thousand taels of silver!

Sheng Shiyue had promised them twenty percent, plus the bribes they’d collected at Yicui Tower earlier. In just a few days, she’d earned a year’s allowance!

Xiao Jing, slightly more rational, asked doubtfully, “Sheng Jiu, how did you know she’d go up to ten thousand taels?”

She didn’t dare say it outright or confirm, only referring to the other party in the third person.

Sheng Shiyue seemed to smile, half her face hidden in the shadows, looking oddly somber in the half-light.

She lowered her eyes, watching the servant take the painting, and said in her usual nonchalant tone, tinged with mockery, “I don’t know her limit or how many taels she could afford.”

“Then you…”

Sheng Shiyue glanced back lazily and said casually, “I just thought ten thousand taels sounded nice.”

The two were momentarily speechless. Ten thousand taels was a fortune to them, but to Sheng Shiyue, it was an insignificant number.

Xiao Jing opened her mouth, “But…”

But just because you have it doesn’t mean the Eighth Princess does.

Sheng Shiyue stepped back, fully retreating into the shadows, and said, “But I know them.”

“Our family’s hereditary trait—petty minds.”

She turned to look at them, emphasizing again, “Narrow-minded, vengeful to a fault.”

They’d never let something that humiliated them fall into someone else’s hands. What a pity, though—this painting, worth ten thousand taels, would probably be destroyed as soon as it reached the Eighth Princess’s mansion.

At this point, Meng Qingxin and Xiao Jing didn’t dare continue the conversation.

Sheng Shiyue found it dull, saw Tian Ling return, and waved her hand, saying, “Alright, someone will bring the silver later. After you take your share, send the rest to my mansion. I’m heading back.”

She glanced at Tian Ling, sighing heavily, “I’ve got some troublesome business to deal with.”

The carriage rolled out of Yicui Tower, and after a while, it reached the Ninth Princess’s mansion.

As Sheng Shiyue was helped off the carriage, she saw Nanyuan standing nearby and asked, “Did you deliver food to her? Has she still not returned?”

Nanyuan first bowed, then said, “Yes, with the martial exam approaching, the lord is understandably busy and will stay at the palace tonight.”

Sheng Shiyue pouted upon hearing this.

Ning Qingge had been so busy these days, spinning like a top that never touched the ground, unable to return home, staying at the palace for days on end.

But it suited Sheng Shiyue just fine. Her eyes flicked to the side, where Ye Liuyun held a bag wrapped in thick cloth, her curved fingers gripping it tightly, looking somewhat nervous.

It was something Meng Qingxin and others had suggested a few days ago when they were scheming for her. For this, she’d gone out early today, following Meng Qingxin and Xiao Jing for a long time before finding that secretive shop.

But with Ning Qingge so busy, it wouldn’t be used anytime soon…

Sheng Shiyue sighed with slight regret, then said to Nanyuan, “You’ve worked hard these days. Go rest.”

Nanyuan immediately agreed.

A moment later, the candles in the study lit up.

Madam Jin, pushed forward, suddenly knelt and shouted, “Your Highness, we were forced into it!”