Chapter Sixty: An Eye for an Eye

When Madam He arrived at Wen Jing’s peach orchard with the Daoist nun and several matrons, she saw Wen Jing standing there, smiling at them. Third Mistress and Fifth Mistress stood warily at the front, but Seventh Mistress Wen seemed not to care at all. This indifference made Madam He even more furious; Wen Jing never paid her any mind, not even now.

“Seventh Mistress, we may have offended you, but we act on Madam’s orders,” Madam He said with a half-smile, glancing meaningfully at the matrons.

At her signal, the matrons rolled up their sleeves, revealing their sturdy arms, and began their search, rougher even than they had been in Third Mistress Wen’s rooms.

Qingliu watched coldly as they turned her room upside down. The quilts and everything in the cabinet were dragged out and thrown on the floor.

The Daoist nun followed behind, muttering incantations as she walked.

Wen Jing observed the nun from head to toe. Though she wore Taoist robes, she was strikingly beautiful, her peach-blossom eyes carrying a hint of flirtatious charm, unlike any ordinary ascetic.

After searching every room except Wen Jing’s, the matrons glanced at Madam He, then prepared to rush into Wen Jing’s own chamber.

“What do you think you’re doing? Even the mistress’s room is fair game?” Qingliu blocked the doorway.

“This concerns the safety of the entire household, and Madam gave the order. Seventh Mistress hasn’t objected, so why are you making such a fuss?” Madam He retorted sarcastically.

“Qingliu, since Madam He insists, let them search. Otherwise, we’d be blamed for disturbing the peace of the household,” Wen Jing said, glancing at Madam He.

A shiver ran through Madam He. Though Wen Jing spoke with a smile, her gaze was sharp as a blade, sending a chill straight to her bones.

“Search.”

The matrons, given permission, rushed in and repeated their rough treatment.

Wen Jing stood calmly at the door, watching. The matrons were shrewd enough not to throw valuables, only tossing clothes, cabinets, and bedding to disgust the occupants—they knew breaking anything precious would mean compensation.

The Daoist nun carefully inspected everything, still chanting under her breath.

A sudden crash echoed.

Qingliu rushed in, shouting, “What did you break?”

The matrons startled, hurriedly moved aside the quilt they’d tossed onto the floor, and their faces turned pale at the sight of porcelain shards beneath.

Madam He’s eyes flashed with terror as she finally understood why Wen Jing’s gaze had chilled her earlier. It was too late now; their scheme had backfired.

“Oh no! This is a Song Dynasty Ru kiln celadon tripod wash basin, given to the mistress by her lady mother! Do you know how much this is worth? Even if you were all sold off, it wouldn’t cover the cost!” Qingliu cried angrily.

---

The matrons exchanged nervous glances. They didn’t know what a tripod wash basin was, but Qingliu’s fury frightened them. Sold off and still unable to pay—how could they ever clear such a debt?

Madam He didn’t recognize the item either, but it certainly looked like celadon. She felt a sinking dread.

“Who did it?” Qingliu demanded, arms akimbo.

“Not me!”

“Nor me!”

The matrons pushed and shoved, denying responsibility.

“So none of you? Did the quilt jump down on its own?” Qingliu sneered.

All their earlier arrogance vanished; heads hung low, none willing to admit fault. They glanced at Madam He.

“Why look at me? I never touched anything,” Madam He rolled her eyes.

“Dear sister, that’s not fair. We only searched Seventh Mistress’ room because you told us to,” Matron Gu protested.

“I never told you to toss things about, only to search. Don’t slander me,” Madam He replied coldly, determined not to pay.

The Daoist nun glanced at Wen Jing with a hint of amusement in her eyes.

The matrons, seeing Madam He absolve herself, sat down on the floor and wailed, infuriating Madam He.

“Shut up, disgraceful creatures!” Madam He scolded, then turned to Wen Jing with a forced smile. “Seventh Mistress, please forgive us for today’s misstep. They’re all old women—please let them off just this once.”

The matrons knelt and pleaded, “Seventh Mistress, please spare us. We’ll never dare again.”

“Since Madam He has spoken,” Wen Jing smiled gently.

The matrons breathed a sigh of relief. The chief steward was Madam’s favorite, and the matter had been at Madam’s behest. Seventh Mistress would surely let it go for the sake of harmony.

Madam He smiled at Wen Jing.

“Then I’ll settle for less,” Wen Jing said.

The matrons were aghast; so they still had to pay? Madam He’s smile froze.

---

“This was left to me as dowry by my mother; it’s recorded in the household register. If anyone checks, I couldn’t bear the blame. It’s worth at least seven or eight hundred strings of cash. Let’s settle for four hundred; that way, I can account to my mother.”

The matrons fell silent, all eyes on Madam He.

“Or you could find another Song Dynasty Ru kiln celadon tripod wash basin to replace it,” Wen Jing added.

“There are fewer than a thousand Ru kiln pieces left in the world. Finding another would cost more than four hundred strings,” the Daoist nun interjected.

That suggestion was even worse than paying the debt, and Madam He’s eyes flashed with resentment.

“Why not just buy a replica and put it there? If the young mistress believes it’s real, then it is real,” Matron Gu suggested.

Wen Jing shook her head. “I can’t do that. This is dowry to be shown at my marriage. If a fake is revealed, it would bring shame to the family. I won’t risk such disgrace.”

Madam He sighed, “Fine, we’ll pay.”

“Four hundred strings—one hundred each,” Wen Jing smiled gently.

The matrons looked miserable. Their monthly pay was only seven or eight strings; one hundred would take over a year to repay. How could they come up with that amount now?

Madam He felt her blood rush to her head. The silver she’d just pocketed yesterday would now have to be returned. Seventh Mistress, indeed, was not to be trifled with.

“If you can’t pay at once, you may write a promissory note and repay a little each month. I won’t press you,” Wen Jing added. (To be continued...)

ps: Title: “Reborn as a Chess Piece”
Author: Suirou’s Cottage

Synopsis: In her previous life, she was someone else’s pawn, and ended up with a ruined family. In this life, she will never again be manipulated—she will be the player, not the piece.