Chapter 9: An Unexpected “Gain”

Two servants, accustomed to flaunting their power in the East Wing, knelt down despite their obvious displeasure, their faces clearly showing resentment toward their new mistress.

“Not too happy about it, are you?” Jiang Luan smiled.

The servant pushing Zuo Lang also chuckled, “How could we dare? You are the mistress, and we are merely servants. Naturally, whatever you say goes. But might the young madam kindly tell us which house rule we've broken?”

Despite the servant's sarcastic tone, Jiang Luan surprisingly remained unruffled.

He circled the two servants leisurely, speaking as he walked, “First, fighting privately within the courtyard, disturbing the household; second, disrespecting the master, violating the hierarchy; third…”

Earlier, while inspecting the Qi family genealogy in the ancestral hall, Jiang Luan had glanced over the house rules to avoid being caught off guard by Prince Su Ping—now, it seemed those rules came in handy.

The two servants listened stunned, not expecting Jiang Luan to rattle off rules so precisely.

Indeed, the Qi family rules prohibited private brawls and disrespecting the master, but when exactly had they fought or disrespected the master?

“Young madam, you…”

“Ah, and thirdly,” Jiang Luan interrupted with a smile as one tried to argue, “untidy appearance and lack of proper etiquette. You two dogs are so ugly they hurt my eyes—yet you have the nerve to roam around in broad daylight?”

His words immediately darkened the servants’ faces.

“We may be ugly, but we’re no celestial beauties like you,” the most brazen one replied with a forced smile, “but we certainly cannot bear the weight of these other fabricated charges!”

“Fabricated?” Jiang Luan cocked his head, glancing at Zuo Lang beside him. “Isn’t that guy on the ground? Can’t even stand up. Isn’t that private fighting? Or did this little guy just bump into you?”

Zuo Lang was speechless.

The two servants were also left dumbfounded.

Did this kid really have trouble standing? Did he think they were blind?

After a moment, Zuo Lang silently collapsed to the ground, curling up like a shrimp, as if seriously injured.

“Poor child,” Jiang Luan sighed in resignation.

The servants strained to suppress their anger, forcing a dry laugh, “But we have never disrespected you!”

“Interrupting your master repeatedly, questioning him, refusing to obey orders—isn’t that disrespect?” Jiang Luan’s expression darkened. “You dogs, how do you usually serve the young master? Do you really think I don’t know?”

Qi Shaolin glanced silently at Jiang Luan.

The two servants immediately fell silent, their eyes darting wildly as they schemed.

The servants in the East Wing had long grown accustomed to handling the young master, who was considered a fool and wouldn’t complain.

Even if complaints were made, they had no fear—after all, the stepmother was around, and the old master rarely interfered in East Wing affairs, leaving everything to the prince.

In over a decade, no one had ever stood up for the foolish young master.

But what was Master Jiang playing at today? Had he lost his mind from fever?

“Do you have any money on you?” Jiang Luan suddenly asked.

The two servants glanced at each other, puzzled.

“Looks like you don’t,” Jiang Luan nodded. “Since you’ve injured my little brother, you’ll have to pay for the doctor’s fees. I’ll have to collect it personally from your quarters.”

“?!”

Before they could react, Jiang Luan turned to ask Zuo Lang, “Where are these two servants resting?”

Zuo Lang immediately stood, no longer pretending to be ill, lowering his head obediently, “I’ll take you there, sir.”

“All right, lead the way.” Jiang Luan said.

“No, young madam, you can’t!”

The two servants abandoned their kneeling and rushed forward, attempting to stop Jiang Luan.

But before they could touch even his sleeves, Qi Shaolin grabbed one in each hand.

He looked displeased, saying, “Who told you to touch my lady?”

Tall, strong, and young, Qi Shaolin effortlessly lifted the two average-sized servants as if they were chicks.

The more they tried to block, the more Jiang Luan suspected they were hiding something. He decisively told Zuo Lang, “Lead on.”

Before entering the Qi family’s East Wing, Jiang Luan knew only Qi Shaolin lived there. The number of servants was small: a second steward handling household goods, a gatekeeper, two errand boys, and a cook managing the small kitchen.

Except for the cook, all servants lived in small courtyards beside the woodshed.

Jiang Luan followed Zuo Lang inside and immediately noticed strings of dried meat hanging on the wall, sheep heads and bones piled nearby, and baskets of fresh coal stacked in the corner.

“Living quite well, aren’t you?” Jiang Luan said with a half-smile, surveying the modest courtyard. “Looks like this place is better stocked than the young master’s room. I hardly know who the real master is.”

The two servants, still held by Qi Shaolin, were sweating nervously, their eyes searching for excuses.

One forced a smile, “These are just things sent from the old home… We would never dare to withhold anything from the young master’s courtyard!”

An outright confession.

Jiang Luan snorted and asked Zuo Lang, “Do you have the key?”

A large, bright brass lock hung on the door. It was unlikely the servants would hand over the key willingly.

Before Zuo Lang could answer, Qi Shaolin interrupted, “No need for a key to get into this room.”

He casually tossed the two servants aside and strode forward. Without gathering strength, he easily kicked the door open.

Jiang Luan clapped behind Qi Shaolin, “Good job, Lin-ge. If there’s a remake of the Chu-Han Legend, if you don’t play Xiang Yu, I won’t watch it.”

Qi Shaolin blinked in confusion.

Seeing Jiang Luan was about to enter, the two servants quickly dropped to their knees—no, they practically threw themselves down before him.

“Young madam, it’s our fault! Please forgive us!” they sobbed, blocking the way.

Jiang Luan was puzzled, “I’m just here to collect my little brother’s medical fees. Why does it seem like you think I’m going to tear your house apart? Is there something you’re hiding inside?”

“No, no,” the previously arrogant servant was now sweating profusely, glancing nervously, “Our quarters are messy, afraid you’d be offended…”

“Heh, I’ve seen your kind of filth before—what could possibly be hidden from me?”

Jiang Luan sneered coldly and kicked each of them aside with a single foot, then strode into the room.

Well, the room itself...

The furnishings were quite refined. Paintings and calligraphy hung on the walls; the table displayed glazed porcelain vases; jade trinkets were scattered about; the folded bedding was woven with gold thread, and a fox pelt of excellent quality was hung on one wall.

If told this was a prince’s residence, some might even believe it.

Jiang Luan picked up a jade piece from the table, toyed with it lightly, and chuckled, “Could it be that the young master’s room has been emptied out?”

His casual question made the two servants crawl over on their knees, repeatedly kowtowing. “Please spare us, young madam! Please!”

“Zuo Lang, search the place. Something about these things doesn’t sit right with me.”

Jiang Luan recalled that Qi Shaolin didn’t even have a proper coat, while these servants lived comfortably. It infuriated him.

They had served in the East Wing for over ten years, probably pocketing countless benefits. Now that money was tight, Jiang Luan decided to make them pay.

Zuo Lang ransacked the room while Qi Shaolin waited outside, bored. The room was cramped for someone of his stature.

Jiang Luan casually took a seat, waiting for Zuo Lang’s report.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the two servants trembling violently; one had even lost control of his bladder and wet himself out of sheer terror.

So scared?

Jiang Luan frowned.

Just then, Zuo Lang stopped his search.

He picked up a booklet from the bedside, leafed through it, and looked at Jiang Luan with a strange expression.

Sensing something was off, Jiang Luan said, “Hand it over.”

His first thought was, “Another erotic painting?”

But if it were just that, the servants’ reactions were far too extreme.

Zuo Lang silently rolled up the booklet and passed it to Jiang Luan.

Jiang Luan opened it to find a script filled with several risqué illustrations. The beauties depicted had porcelain skin, lifelike expressions, and a small red mark on their foreheads, posed in various provocative ways.

If it were only that, fine—but the text repeatedly mentioned Jiang Luan’s name.

This was an erotic script starring the original owner!

“Very well,” Jiang Luan smiled at the two trembling men, “You’ve truly surprised me.”