Chapter Sixty: Words Galloping Like Wild Horses

“What’s gotten into you this time? You’re rushing about in a panic—what’s the matter now? Did the old tiger scratch you, or did the tigress take a bite out of you?” Lu Hu assumed Ma Lihong had once again been frightened by the tigers.

“I—I—I didn’t scratch any tigers, nor did I bite one. It’s Thirteen Spices and Madam Chicken Essence—they started fighting.”

“One after another, you lot never fail to make trouble for me. Can’t you let me have a moment’s peace?” Lu Hu gazed up at the sky in helpless resignation, sighing and shaking his head.

“We didn’t mean to cause trouble. It’s that adopted brat Thirteen Spices bullying Madam Chicken Essence. She endured it time and again, but finally, unable to bear it any longer, she fought back.” Ma Lihong, now having caught her breath, rattled off her explanation.

Lu Hu noticed Ma Lihong’s eyes darting all over as she answered, knowing full well this woman could spin a wagon out of thin air—a single word from her could spawn eight lies. He scowled, putting on a stern face to intimidate her: “Don’t try to fool me. Be honest—what really happened?”

“What happened is, they fought. Madam Chicken Essence gave Thirteen Spices a good beating; the two of us couldn’t pull her off.” Ma Lihong’s expression grew tense.

“Are you trying to make a fool out of me?”

“No, no, I wouldn’t dare. I wouldn’t fool you—or the gods. I’m telling the truth, I swear, my lord.”

“Oh really? Without you two meddling, Madam Chicken Essence could just thrash Thirteen Spices?”

“Ah, heavens, you know everything, my lord! I was wrong, I admit it—I deserve punishment, I’ll punish myself.” Ma Lihong dropped to her knees and started slapping her own face.

Lu Hu nudged Quan Pearl gently in the waist.

Quan Pearl’s body trembled, at first thinking Lu Hu, in front of everyone, was about to make a show of his masculine prowess. Her heart pounded wildly—but she quickly realized, clever as she was, that Lu Hu wanted her to show a bit of kindness.

Ma Lihong and Zhu Xiaoying were always so pleased with themselves, certain that with their looks and figures, winning over the lord would be a matter of moments. But the arrival of Quan Pearl and her sister had completely stolen the spotlight, filling Ma Lihong and Zhu Xiaoying with jealousy and resentment.

With such a promising man right before them, these two young girls had snatched him away, leaving them gnashing their teeth with envy.

Lu Hu could do nothing about the rivalry among women; persuasion was useless. He could only wait for the right moment for things to smooth over on their own.
Now, the opportunity had come.

Quan Pearl’s heart warmed—her good brother was truly considerate. She turned to Ma Lihong and said, “Don’t blame yourself. Get up and answer properly; my brother won’t punish you.”

Ma Lihong sent her a grateful look, but didn’t dare stop slapping herself, only casting a timid glance at Lu Hu.

“Enough. Since Pearl has pleaded for you, I’ll let you off this time.”

Ma Lihong kowtowed and got up. “Thank you, Lady Pearl, for interceding. Thank you, my lord, for your mercy.”

“Now, tell me how you dealt with Thirteen Spices.” Lu Hu swung down from his horse, lifting Quan Pearl down as well.

As they walked toward the kitchen tent, Ma Lihong chattered out the story:

After Lu Hu and Quan Dounan’s family finished their meal, Ma Lihong and Zhu Xiaoying cleared the leftovers and took them back to the kitchen tent.

Madam Chicken Essence and Thirteen Spices were each lying on their respective beds in the tent, resting.

As soon as Thirteen Spices saw the leftovers, she sprang up, grabbed the wine gourd from under her bed, swaggered to the chopping board, and began helping herself to the tastiest morsels, washing them down with wine.

This had become routine—habit turned into custom, custom into rule.

Madam Chicken Essence rolled over, turning her face to the wall, feigning sleep. He didn’t mind; after all, he’d always managed to sneak a bite or two while cooking, so he wasn’t really hungry. Even if he was, he had to hold back—Thirteen Spices was not someone he could afford to provoke, so he had to wait for the scraps.

Ma Lihong and Zhu Xiaoying, however, were truly hungry. In the past, they’d been intimidated by Thirteen Spices’ domineering ways—she ate while they watched, and even when she relieved herself, they had to wait until she was done before daring to have any leftovers.

But today was different. Earlier, they’d reported Thirteen Spices’ misdeeds to the lord. Although he hadn’t said much at the time, his expression spoke volumes—he was clearly displeased with Thirteen Spices.

This was not the old days under the Prince’s rule, when she could show off as much as she liked and they would just ignore her. Now, it was the lord’s domain—how could she still put on airs?

Ma Lihong grit her teeth, summoned her courage, and sat herself down right next to Thirteen Spices, picking up a piece of venison and popping it into her mouth.

Growing bolder, Thirteen Spices pinched Ma Lihong’s face.

Ma Lihong said nothing and kept eating.

Zhu Xiaoying, seeing this, joined in and began to eat as well.

Thirteen Spices reached out and groped Zhu Xiaoying.

Zhu Xiaoying pretended not to notice, her mouth slick with grease as she wolfed down her food.

Emboldened further, Thirteen Spices poured Ma Lihong a bowl of wine, which Ma Lihong drank without hesitation.

Seeing this, Zhu Xiaoying grew braver still, grabbed the wine gourd herself, poured a bowl, and drank.

The two had long craved a taste of wine. They’d watched the men drink before, sipping and savoring, then sighing with pleasure—a scene that left them aching with envy, especially when it came to the Prince’s special wine, which exuded a delicate fragrance even with the jar sealed, and, once opened, filled the air with a heady aroma.

But apart from Thirteen Spices, no one dared touch the Prince’s wine, let alone sneak a taste.

They hadn’t expected that, intoxicating as the wine smelled, it burned like fire once swallowed. After a few gulps, their bodies grew hot, their heads light, and their courage swelled.

Thirteen Spices grew even bolder, reaching for Zhu Xiaoying’s thigh.

Drunk and dizzy, Zhu Xiaoying let out a moan, oddly enjoying the attention.

What—am I not as attractive as Miss Zhu? Ma Lihong, jealous, slapped Thirteen Spices across the face.

The sharp crack snapped Zhu Xiaoying out of her daze. Damn it—she was the lord’s woman; her body was for him alone. If he hadn’t touched her, no one else had the right. How dare this scoundrel lay a hand on her? Even if she were inclined to a clandestine affair, she would never do so in front of others—how could she let Ma Lihong get hold of such a weapon against her? How would she live with herself?

When it came to sneaking food, one monk could eat his fill, but two would starve.

So she too landed a resounding slap on Thirteen Spices’ face.

Thirteen Spices, already aroused and burning with unspent passion, was only further inflamed by the double assault. She stood up, gripped both Ma Lihong and Zhu Xiaoying by the hair, and hurled them onto the bed, intent on asserting her dominance over them both.

But Ma Lihong and Zhu Xiaoying fought back with all four limbs—pressing down one, the other would spring up and scratch and claw; subduing that one, the other would rise and bite. Like trying to submerge one gourd only to have another pop up—the chaos was endless.