Chapter 43: Has Yang Er Taken the Bait?

The inner quarters of Zhang Yunyi’s estate were a labyrinth of winding corridors and secluded pathways, where pavilions and galleries were scattered in a complex, overlapping arrangement. To a stranger, it would be all too easy to lose one's way among the endless succession of doors and courtyards.

Beside a vanity stood an exquisitely carved lamp stand, its frame crafted from fine wood with intricate patterns. This refined bedroom was bathed in the brilliant light of eight tallow candles burning atop the stand. A beautiful young woman, dressed in a translucent silk nightgown, sat before the mirror, her figure possessing a curvaceous, full-hipped, and slender-waisted silhouette.

Beneath the window sat a sandalwood table with curved ends, set with tea and refreshments. Sitting in a circular-backed chair nearby was a man in his thirties, also wearing a nightgown. He was Zhang Xinran, the eldest son of Zhang Yunyi. As the Manor Master had fathered him at seventeen, the age gap between the father and the young master was not vast. The beautiful woman removing her makeup at the mirror was his wife, Chen Wan.

Suddenly, a knock sounded at the door. Young Master Zhang, who had been enjoying his tea and snacks, stood up immediately and strode over. He pulled the door open to find a servant standing there, his face flushed with excitement. "Young Master, it is done!"

"Did Deacon Yang sleep with her?" Zhang Xinran asked, delighted.

"The lamp has been hung," the servant replied.

"Ha! Good, very good!" The young master boasted triumphantly. "Finally, I have a hold on him! I’d like to see how he tries to make trouble for our Zhang family now, ha-ha..."

After laughing, he waved his hand. "Go, keep watching. Report back immediately if there is any news." The servant acknowledged the order and scurried away.

Young Mistress Chen, still sitting at her vanity, curled her lip. "Only you and your father could come up with such a scheme. Sangzhi is your father’s secondary wife—your own little concubine. You send her to be bedded by another man, and you two are actually gleeful about it. Honestly... I don't even know what to say."

There was a distinction between a 'concubine' and a 'courtesan'—the latter being typically used for entertainment or gifting to guests. For a man of the Manor Master’s status, someone offered to a guest should have been a courtesan, not a secondary wife. Once Yang Can touched her, the Manor Master would have a pretext to attack him. *I treated you with the utmost respect, even allowing my own concubine to serve your tea, and yet you dragged her into your bed?* If this became a scandal, Yang Can would be marked by the Faction Master as someone unworthy of responsibility. Even if he were merely the victim of a honey trap, it would still prove his incompetence. This price was enough to force the Deacon into a silent understanding.

The young master glared at his wife. "You are just a woman; what do you know? This is strategy. What is one secondary wife? If you aren't willing to sacrifice a beautiful woman, how can you ensnare a man like Yang Can?"

"Pfft!" The young mistress scoffed with disdain, rising gracefully to prepare for bed.

Having just received such good news, a heavy weight had been lifted from the young master’s heart, and his spirits were high. Seeing Wan’er bend over to spread the quilt, her slender waist arched, revealing a smooth, rounded curve. Her undergarments shifted with the movement, exposing a sliver of snow-white skin on her back. Two charming little dimples appeared where her waist met her hips. His interest piqued, the young master chuckled and leaned in with a leering expression.

"You wretch, you’re insufferable!" Young Mistress Chen teased coyly. One by one, the candles in the room were extinguished, and the chamber fell into darkness.

***

Xiaotan’s technique was incredibly skilled, clearly the result of rigorous training. From scrubbing to massage, she attended to every detail with professional composure and appropriate restraint. Yang Can could not help but sigh to himself; even his Second Deacon did not know how to enjoy life like this country squire.

Once Yang Can finished bathing, Xiaotan retrieved a dry piece of kudzu cloth. Holding it wide with both hands and keeping her eyes lowered, she said respectfully, "Deacon Yang, please dress." She held the cloth high, level with her eyebrows, so she would not see his body. Yang Can took the thick, dry cloth and wrapped it around himself; its absorbency was excellent, soaking up the water droplets instantly.

"I will wait outside," Xiaotan bowed. "If the Deacon has any instructions, just call." With that, she retreated gracefully.

Yang Can had been prepared to firmly reject any temptations of the flesh. However, since she hadn't given him the chance, he felt a slight, unexpected disappointment. Once he changed into a fine cotton sleeping robe and draped his damp hair behind his shoulders, he walked out of the bathroom to find Xiaotan waiting respectfully. She led him to the bedroom, stopped at the door, and said in a sweet voice, "I will be resting in the side chamber. If you have any orders, please call for me at any time." She then closed the door behind him.

Humming a tune, Yang Can loosened his belt and headed toward the bed. Suddenly, he noticed a lump beneath the quilt. Surprised, he stepped forward and pulled at it, but the covers did not budge. Sangzhi was lying inside, clearly wearing nothing. Though he hadn't fully lifted the quilt, a corner had shifted, revealing a glimpse of a tender, rounded shoulder.

"Mistress Sangzhi?" Yang Can gasped.

Sangzhi gave a soft, seductive smile, her eyes downcast, and said shyly, "Please, sir, show me mercy."

***

Qingmei wore a round-collared robe, her hair tied back in a simple ponytail. She had just finished bathing, and her hair was dark and glossy. With her brisk, cheerful steps, her ponytail bounced, radiating youthful vigor. It was her first time on a mission as an external affairs deacon, and she was quite excited. However, being her first time, she wasn't quite sure how to proceed. She wanted to outshine Yang Can, but after much thought, she remained at a loss. Eventually, she decided to cooperate with him—she could just share some of the credit—so she had hurried over.

Mistress Sangzhi was the Manor Master’s favorite concubine; he had disguised her as a servant specifically to trap Yang Can. He wouldn't expose this immediately. If Yang Can played along, he would act as if nothing had happened. But if Yang Can dared to oppose him, he would reveal the truth and accuse him of forcing his favorite concubine.

Xiaotan was Sangzhi’s personal maid and was still serving her, only the 'master' had been swapped out for the night. In truth, Xiaotan was rather interested in her mistress’s 'temporary master.' After all, Yang Can was young and handsome, and what girl didn't love a charming man? So, after entering the side chamber, instead of sleeping, she pressed her ear against the wall.

Before she could hear anything interesting, a series of rapid footsteps approached. Alarmed, Xiaotan wondered who would intrude at such an hour and ruin her master’s scheme. She hurried to open the door and saw a ponytail bouncing up the stairs.

"Who is—? Ah! Miss Qingmei?"

Qingmei had run up the stairs, and seeing no one there to greet her, she curled her lip. *Typical of a rural estate; no matter how wealthy they pretend to be, they have no manners. I’m a guest, and yet not a soul comes to welcome me.* As she reached the top, she saw Xiaotan in her undergarments with her hair loose, looking slightly flustered.

Qingmei’s suspicions flared: *You’re a servant, why aren't you sleeping downstairs? And in this state of dress...* Suddenly, a 'thief's glint' appeared in her eyes: *You scoundrel Yang Can, daring to sneak around behind my mistress's back!*

Feeling a mix of excitement, anger, and an indescribable bitterness, she put on a stern face, pushed Xiaotan aside, and burst into the room.

Inside, Yang Can saw Sangzhi lying in the bed and quickly tightened his belt. "Mistress Sangzhi, what are you doing? I have no need for such services."

*Good,* he thought, *the firm rejection I prepared earlier finally came in handy.*

Sangzhi chuckled, resting her chin on her hand, looking utterly charming. "Serving the Deacon is the Manor Master’s arrangement, but I am more than willing myself. It is just a fleeting night of passion, a spring dream that leaves no trace. You need not take it to heart, sir."

"Hold your tongue!" Yang Can said sternly. He was afraid that if she kept speaking, his resolve would waver. He dared not touch her; she was sent by the Manor Master. He hadn't chosen the Feng'an Manor as his first stop simply because it was the closest to the Phoenix Mountain Villa. He could have gone to the furthest one first and worked his way back. He had chosen this place because he had discovered something while auditing the ledgers. Because of that, the Manor Master was a target he had to take down. Zhang Yunyi was the sacrifice for his own rise to prominence. Since he had decided to use Zhang to establish his authority, how could he accept his favors? He had received gold cakes earlier, but that was different—he had already secretly turned them over to Steward Deng with an explanation. But while stolen money could be handed over, how could he explain bedding the woman they had sent?

*But... if I refuse too harshly, won't that put Zhang on high alert? How can I refuse subtly without causing a scene?*

Just as Yang Can was frantically searching for a solution, the door was flung open by an indignant Qingmei. "You Yang fellow, you have some nerve—!"

As the door opened, Qingmei stood with her hands on her hips, eyes wide. She had been guarding the door for her mistress, listening to nothing but muffled silence, and was anxious. Now, she could finally see the truth for herself.

*Huh?*

The situation in the room was not what she had imagined. Qingmei stood there, frozen. Her large eyes darted between the pale, quilt-wrapped Sangzhi on the bed and the stern, righteous-looking Yang Can. She felt something was wrong.

Seeing Qingmei, Yang Can’s eyes lit up. He had finally found a perfect excuse! He darted over to her, grabbed the arm she had been resting on her hip, and pulled her toward him. "Qingmei, listen to me! I didn't summon her; I didn't even know she was here! I just went to bathe, and when I came back, she was already lying there... 'unclad'!"

Qingmei’s lips twitched. She had wanted him to explain and sincerely repent, but what was this guilty look, like a husband caught cheating by his wife? A vague feeling stirred in her that things were spiraling in a direction she could not predict.