Born to Be Either Rich or Noble - Chapter 75

Qian Tong had underestimated how bold a woman of the capital could be.

Even as a titled county princess, one ought to show at least a hint of restraint about bedroom secrets. Such things were fine to know in private—there was rarely a need to strip someone bare in public. Yet Mingfeng stood before the crowd and the man himself, and mercilessly tore open a man’s deepest wound.

And in doing so, she dragged Qian Tong—the one who had told her—right into the open.

The silence in the room grew terrifying. Several gazes pinned her spine, each one scorching. Qian Tong couldn’t tell which was worse. She bowed her head, not daring to lift it.

The one she feared facing most right now was undoubtedly the Park family’s eldest son.

But regardless of what he felt, Qian Tong believed her conscience was clean. She had genuinely tried to help him.

That day, when he tracked her down at the salt works demanding compensation, she’d promised to help him escape this marriage. He didn’t want to marry the princess but was being forced into it. Compared to scarring his own face or threatening self-harm, sacrificing a bit of reputation was a light price.

If only he would understand.

Whether he understood or not, Lady Park certainly didn’t. She rose abruptly, lips trembling with fury, demanding: “What exactly was your intention, Miss Qian?” She gave a cold laugh. “All because I once refused your marriage to my son—now you nurse a grudge so deep you’d ruin him like this? You can’t bear to see him have even a shred of good fortune?”

By all the heavens, Qian Tong didn’t know how to answer.

Lady Park nearly ground her teeth to dust. She turned toward the Prince of Pingchang and the princess, hastily explaining, “This cannot possibly be true. Seven Miss Qian’s character—Your Highnesses wouldn’t know, but she—”

“The princess spoke the truth.” The eldest son suddenly interrupted.

Qian Tong jerked her head up in shock.

His face had turned ashen. He opened his mouth and, in front of everyone, said plainly: “I do suffer from this… affliction.”

While Lady Park’s face drained white, he knelt before the Prince and Princess of Pingchang and confessed, “I have failed the expectations Your Highnesses placed upon me. I never dared imagine marriage with the county princess. My mother knew nothing—any offense she caused was unintentional. I beg Your Highnesses’ forgiveness for our household’s discourtesy.”

It was—

Absurd.
Utterly absurd.

The Princess of Pingchang’s expression shifted again and again, unsure whether she was shocked by his self-destruction or furious that her daughter had nearly been fooled.

The Park family was a hopeless mess.

The prince had come tonight intending to finalize Mingfeng’s marriage to the eldest son. Years ago, when the Parks offered their second son, they’d claimed the clan elders favored him and that the eldest would not inherit the family estate.

But now the second son was dead.
Which meant the eldest would inherit.
So, naturally, the prince had been thinking—

And now this.

A man casting aside his last shred of dignity to admit he was… incapable. What could the prince say? Ask him why he was impotent? Demand proof?

The banquet hadn’t even begun, and thanks to Mingfeng’s entrance, the atmosphere had plunged into the abyss.

And all of it played out in front of the Song heir. The Prince’s face darkened. He needed to say something to show control. He glanced at the kneeling pair and forced himself to rein in his anger:

“Enough. Stand up.”

The eldest son thanked him, rose with the princess, and—ignoring Lady Park’s devastated look—returned to the doorway, standing stiffly and silently like a servant awaiting orders.

Lady Park felt as though she’d been bludgeoned senseless by her own son’s self-destruction.

She knew her child. She refused to believe he truly—
She opened her mouth: “Your Highness, Princess—”

The prince cut her off, unwilling to prolong the disgrace. “Tonight’s banquet was meant for your Park household to apologize to the Song heir. As for a marriage between our two families—we will discuss it when the master of your house returns.”

Discuss it?
With what options?

The second son was gone.
The eldest son was “incapable.”
All that remained was a sixteen-year-old third son.

Seeing the last shred of hope for escape vanish, Mingfeng hardened her gaze. She was about to storm off to ruin the last remaining son—until the prince caught the thought in her eyes and said sharply, “Mingfeng. You are here. Sit.”

Mingfeng reluctantly obeyed.

Park’s eldest son, unable to leave while guests remained, sat near the doorway, expression wooden.

That left Qian Tong, glued awkwardly to the entrance, the one who had detonated this disaster.

Lady Park could hardly bear to look at her. She wished Qian Tong would evaporate on the spot. But just as Qian Tong began to retreat, the princess spoke:

“Miss Qian, please join us.”

Qian Tong bowed in thanks and took a seat—right beside the eldest son.

Now that he was considered useless, no one cared about who sat next to him.

After that knife-to-heart interlude, Lady Park—bleeding internally—still had to smile and host.

She raised her cup to apologize to the prince, princess, and the Song heir.

Hidden behind her raised sleeve, Qian Tong sneaked a glance at Park Chengyu. Guilt welled in her. In a whisper she said, “Why did you admit it? What will you do now…”

He turned his head slowly. His eyes carried a muted ache.

What about you?
What will you do?

Will you sink with me?

She couldn’t guess his thoughts. Certain she had ruined her own reputation in his eyes, she explained: “I promised you I’d find a way. When the princess came demanding I give you up to her, this was all I could think of. I never expected her to…”

She stopped abruptly.

The room had gone strangely quiet again.

She straightened, looking forward.

Sometime during the commotion, the Song heir had risen from his seat and was walking straight toward her.

Qian Tong froze.
What was he doing?

Everyone else was equally stunned. The prince and Lady Park traded uneasy looks. The Song heir hadn’t drunk the wine, yet suddenly stood and walked off without a word.

He approached. When Qian Tong met his gaze, her heart thudded wildly.

He stopped behind her chair and said, voice cold:

“Stand.”

Qian Tong: “…”

A merchant’s daughter had no standing before power. If the Song heir commanded her to rise, she rose. She hurriedly stood and dropped into a curtsey: “Your—”

A hand seized her wrist.

Song Yunzhi pulled her forward.

Under the stunned eyes of the room, he led her to his own seat and set her down. Standing behind her, half shielding her body, he placed her squarely under his protection. He spoke no words—and yet the entire banquet plunged into dead silence.

The prince blinked.

He’d heard rumors about the Song heir and the Qian family’s seventh daughter, but she was a merchant girl…

Tonight was already chaos. What was one more disaster? He forced a dry chuckle:

“Men stray now and then. No big matter. Your mother raised you too—”

“Your Highness is mistaken.”
For the first time in his life, the Song heir spoke up to clarify something about someone who, to him, was supposedly insignificant.

“Her past with the Park heir is long over. They never exchanged betrothal documents. Everything remained proper and ended two years ago. I, Song Yunzhi, admire her. I have already informed my parents. In the future, I will marry her formally and honorably.”

He was born and raised in the capital; his speech was crisp and elegant.

Every word fell cleanly into the stunned ears of those present.

Even the eldest Park son at the door heard it clearly. His expression twitched; he turned stiffly.

Dragged before the prince and princess, Qian Tong had braced herself for humiliation—only to hear that cool, resonant voice. Something clenched tight in her chest, both achy and warm.

She stared dumbly at him.

Sensing her gaze, Song Yunzhi’s hands tightened slightly at his sides. He looked toward Mingfeng and said, solemnly:

“As for whether you and the Park heir are engaged—that is for the two of you to clarify. This matter no longer concerns Miss Qian. Do not involve her again. Understood?”

Mingfeng had been wide-eyed from the moment he dragged Qian Tong to his seat.

This was Song Yunzhi?
Song Yunzhao’s older brother?

The man who, since childhood, refused to look women in the eye, refused to speak to them, refused to travel with them?

Now he liked a merchant girl?
Didn’t care about her past?
Wanted to marry her with a proper match ceremony?

The shock was so great even her own misfortune faded from mind.

She had only ever exchanged a handful of words with the stern, silent heir. Being stared down and scolded by him—before her parents—left her no room to resist. She quickly nodded: “U-understood.”

The prince looked at his son with thinly veiled disdain.

A merchant girl, and he was this serious? What did he think “proper marriage” meant? Did the Marquis of Yong’an and the Princess truly know he intended to marry a merchant’s daughter?

“My son…”

The princess shot him a warning look, cutting him off. She smiled warmly. “No wonder I felt so fond of Miss Qian the moment I saw her. Our heir certainly has good taste—Seven Miss Qian is lovely indeed. Quickly, bring her another cup. Tonight we celebrate this unexpected joy.”

“No.” Song Yunzhi refused without mercy. “She cannot handle wine.”

Then he rose, bowed to the prince and princess, and said, “Tonight’s banquet ends here. I owe Your Highnesses an apology. I will return on another day to pay my respects.”

Without waiting for their reaction, he turned, took Qian Tong’s hand again, and walked out.

He never once looked at the Park family.

Lady Park, having endured blow after blow, finally understood how the third madam once felt.

That Qian girl was truly capable.

She had ruined her son’s reputation—and immediately caught the Song heir, making him vow to marry her.

Ridiculous.

Lady Park’s desire to kill her peaked. After tonight, all troublesome matters and troublesome people would be dealt with. She glanced at the water clock. The time was nearly right. She made no move to stop them.

—

Song Yunzhi didn’t release her hand once they left the hall.

Qian Tong followed behind him, eyes drifting to their joined hands. His grip was so tight his knuckles stood out under the lantern light—blue veins taut against his skin.

His palm was broader than she’d imagined, warm and reassuring. Hard to let go.

As his pace slowed, Qian Tong softly called, “Yunzhi…”

Was he… worried for her?

She wanted to tell him she truly didn’t care about her reputation. As the head of the Qian family, even if people maligned her, she could still find a son-in-law willing to marry into her household, supported by her wealth and status.

He didn’t need to do all this for her.

His promise of a proper marriage—no woman would dislike hearing it.

But she couldn’t accept it.

Yet in that moment, he had stood before all those people and defended her, restored the dignity she herself had overlooked.

How could one not be moved by a man like that?

But now that he had so publicly broken convention for her—a merchant girl—what would happen to his reputation?

Suddenly, Qian Tong regretted ever entangling him.

She was terrible—lying to him, using him for protection, then coveting his beauty, even proposing that shameless private arrangement. She had known he was serious, known he cared—and still treated his sincerity like a game.

Compared to his honesty, her affection felt unworthy.

A sharp ache pulled at her chest, her eyes burning.

She wouldn’t tease him anymore.

He halted. When he turned, Qian Tong looked up, eyes glimmering, and said earnestly:

“I’m sor—”

He didn’t loosen his grip in the slightest. “Qian Tong.” His protecting her did not mean he wasn’t angry—his voice carried a low, simmering fury—but his hand held her just as firmly. “You should know perfectly well who has the right to be angry tonight. Think it through before you finish what you were about to say.”

Qian Tong pressed her lips together.

Song Yunzhi watched her quietly for a moment. When the noise outside suddenly swelled, he pulled her sharply into his arms, cupped the back of her head, and pressed his lips to hers.

Since she didn’t care about her reputation, what harm was there in letting him take it?

She was finally kissing the Heir Apparent of the Song family—just as she had wished.

It wasn’t a dream.

They were both fully awake.

Their lips met tightly in the humid summer breeze, breath mingling, unguarded and intimate. The cool, distinctive scent that belonged only to the heir made Qian Tong feel at once clear-headed and dazed.

His lower lip hooked against hers. His throat rolled hard. In the give-and-take of the kiss, he drew a soft sound from her.

Who doesn’t fall prey to worldly temptations?

She’d told herself not to provoke him—but must he come provoke her? His kiss was more dangerous than she’d imagined. Her mind slipped; then a sudden sting on her lip made her gasp, her fingers clenching into his sleeve.

After several light smacks to his arm, Song Yunzhi finally released her.

He stepped back two paces but kept a firm hold on her shoulders. He glanced toward the flames flaring outside the door, then back at the torn corner of her lip. Some of the fury pent up in his chest finally eased. He pressed his own lips together, swallowing the faint sweetness of blood.

They were even now. She’d bitten him once; he simply returned the favor.

The ripple of emotion that had just barely begun to stir in Qian Tong’s chest vanished beneath the sharp throb of pain. “Are you a dog or something…” she snapped.

If she said he was, then so he was.

A servant’s cry echoed from a distance, growing rapidly nearer: “Help—! Barbarians have entered the city! Quickly—guard the gates—!”

“Protect the prince and princess!”

“The Heir Apparent! The Heir Apparent!”

“Mistress Qian! Where is Mistress Qian—?”

The door burst open. The “barbarians” charged in. The hunt began.

“Return to the Qian residence immediately.” Song Yunzhi knew she had come prepared for danger—but this was not where she should be. “When this is over, I’ll come find you. We’ll settle what happened tonight.”

Qian Tong didn’t move. She lifted her gaze, worry softening her voice. “I want to protect you too.”

“You don’t need to.”

“But I can’t stop worrying…”

“I’ll be fine.” Song Yunzhi looked at her, shifted his hand from her shoulder to her cheek, and gently brushed it with his thumb. Then he called to Meng Qing: “Take her back.”

Qian Tong watched as the heir returned toward the site of the banquet.

Clashing steel and brutal shouts pierced the night. She followed Meng Qing step by step, turning back after nearly every one. “Meng Qing, the heir won’t be harmed, will he?”

“Mistress Qian need not worry.”

She nodded, but her heart refused to settle. “The fighters from the Park household are all hired killers from the martial world. Did you bring enough men?”

“Mistress Qian need not worry.”

“The Park estate sits between two alleys that open onto the market. If the ‘barbarians’ entered, they must have gone straight through the front gates.”

“Mistress Qian need not worry.”

“The remaining two sides—one backs the moat. They could use the water to slip in underwater.”

“Mistress Qian need not worry.”

“The west side is comparatively safer, though. It’s connected to clusters of ramshackle dwellings, all poor families. If there’s movement, they’ll suffer first. The cost is too great—those ‘barbarians’ won’t enter from—”

Meng Qing did not respond this time.

Before the “barbarians” burst inside, Song Yunzhi had already bought them precious minutes. Meng Qing shielded her, cut past a small side door used for delivering dishes, and soon brought her safely out.

Circling around to the main gate—

A Qian family carriage waited in the shadows. Fuyin stood anxiously beside it. When she saw them, she hurried over. “Mistress, thank goodness you’re safe. So many barbarians suddenly stormed the city—I nearly died of fright. Where is the heir? Has he come out—?”

He was still inside.

Qian Tong turned to Meng Qing. “I have my maid with me. Tonight, those men are after the heir—you should go help him. Don’t mind me.”

Meng Qing remained unmoved. “My lord gave orders. I cannot disobey.”

“Fine, then we’ll go home first.” Qian Tong climbed into the carriage—then froze. She reached up and touched her left ear, startled. “Wait—where’s my earring…”

Meng Qing instinctively looked down.

In that split second, something powdery struck his face.

He collapsed. Fuyin caught him just in time. Her panic vanished; quick and efficient, she dragged him inside the carriage. Then she pulled out a wrapped bundle and handed it to Qian Tong.

“Mistress, please change.”

Qian Tong removed her hairpin, letting her long black hair spill loose before tying it up high with a strip of cloth. She changed into night gear and told Fuyin:

“Three sides of the estate are covered by the heir’s people. Tell Duan Yuanjin to take the west side.”
(t/n: Duan Yuanjin is a recurring figure assisting Qian Tong in covert operations.)

After the “barbarians” forced their way in, Madam Park gathered her servants to protect the prince and princess.

The prince had come to Yangzhou earlier that day with only a dozen light horsemen. Not expecting an attack, most were still at the prefect’s residence. He had some basic training—enough for self-defense—but against real killers, he was nothing but a protected target.

The first wave of “barbarians” burst through the main gate, waving torches and curved blades as they charged straight into the banquet hall. The prince fought while shouting, “Where is the heir? Protect the heir—!”

He moved; the “barbarians” chased after him.

Madam Park, meanwhile, supported the princess, leading the women in a panicked retreat toward the rear courtyard. Only when they reached a pocket of darkness beyond the reach of the flames did the princess ask:

“Do you truly have this under control?”

Song Yunzhi had vanished from the banquet—yet they were still confident they could find him?

Because the princess had meddled earlier and exposed the Park family’s disgraceful secret about the eldest son, the princess bore resentment toward Madam Park. Madam Park, for her part, also held quiet displeasure.

Such an important banquet—and the princess’s daughter had barged in, humiliating her son in public and nearly disrupting tonight’s plan.

From the moment Madam Park first met the young princess, she’d seen only willfulness and disrespect. Tonight’s behavior had merely confirmed her lack of discipline. Madam Park privately sneered at how poorly the royal couple had raised their child.

But the bigger picture mattered. Both women forced down their irritation. Madam Park said:

“Princess, rest assured. Nothing will go wrong.”

Tonight, the “barbarians” had landed at the harbor nearest the inner city, killing as they advanced. The Park estate—being the first large residence they encountered—was naturally their first target.

The “barbarians” split into three groups to surround the estate. No one inside could escape.

Once they killed the heir, the prefect’s troops and the prince’s men would arrive, chase the “barbarians,” and the “barbarians” would escape via the moat behind the Park estate.

Yangzhou had suffered a sudden foreign incursion; the Parks would lose a few servants; the heir simply had bad luck and perished.

The prince and princess would attest to it.

Even if the emperor and the Marquis’s household wanted vengeance, they’d have to hunt down the “barbarians.” At worst, the Park family would offer condolences and money.

Everything was proceeding precisely as planned.

The “barbarians” smashed through the main gate, killing indiscriminately. The prince, trying to protect the heir, took a slash to the arm. Song Yunzhi shielded him, ordering his followers to escort the prince to the rear courtyard.

The Park servants were decorative at best.

The heir alone could not fend off four attackers—much less three highly skilled ones. He even summoned his shadow guards. In the end, one of the “barbarians” struck him with a poisoned hidden weapon.

A messenger claimed he saw the heir fall. The shadow guards dragged him into hiding.

Poisoned—if not dead immediately, he’d die before dawn.

Madam Park exhaled in relief.

The prefecture’s forces arrived, sealing all three exits. Madam Park seized the chance to send people to search each room.

Once official troops arrived, the “barbarians” withdrew, fleeing along their planned escape route.

The unexpected disaster came at the final step.

The moment the “barbarians” leapt into the moat behind the estate, they plunged straight into a large net concealed beneath the water. Trapped like fish, not one escaped. The remaining stragglers ran straight into the prefecture’s iron cavalry.

The Park estate was soaked in blood.

When the news reached Madam Park, she was personally searching for the heir.

Her confidant whispered, “There was an ambush at the moat.”

“What?” The lantern slipped from her hand, crashing at her feet. Flames flared. A cold shock swept her heart—her limbs went numb.

Impossible. She had been so careful. How could it fail?

Where had the plan leaked?

All plans carried risk. Unlike the impulsive Third Madam, Madam Park always prepared contingencies.

Those “barbarians” couldn’t reveal anything—they were mute, their tongues cut out.

She was just regaining her composure when she saw the supposedly poisoned heir walk out of a nearby room, steady as ever, not the slightest trace of injury.

The sudden collapse of the plan, coupled with terror, made her blood surge backward. She fainted.

During her unconsciousness, the prefecture’s troops fully subdued the “barbarians,” tied up all surviving attackers, and sent them to the prefecture.

Song Yunzhi visited the prince and princess first, ensuring their safety. Once satisfied, he ordered Wang Zhao to bring the newly awakened Madam Park.

She returned to the banquet hall.

But the guests had all been replaced by iron cavalry.

Shaking, pale, clearly still “frightened,” Madam Park forced herself to kneel and beg forgiveness. “Heaven be thanked the heir is unharmed. This common woman has committed a grave sin. To let the prince, princess, and heir encounter a barbarian attack in my household—my guilt deserves a thousand deaths…”

She knocked her head against the floor twice.

Standing before her, Song Yunzhi was about to question her when new sounds of fighting drifted from deeper within the estate.

A maid burst in, panicked. “Madam—the barbarians are back!”

Madam Park froze.

Back? How could that be?

There had been no barbarians tonight at all.

And this new group clearly wasn’t hers. Unlike the earlier attackers who had followed “rules” and targeted only the front courtyards, this second wave came from the west side’s slums—charging straight for the rear courtyards.

The estate had just survived a slaughter. Seeing the prefecture’s troops arrive, everyone had relaxed. No one expected a second attack.

The rear courtyards—every area, every room—were infiltrated. Even the prince and princess’s residence, and the young princess’s quarters, were struck.

Even the Park family didn’t expect this. Neither did Wang Zhao. He looked at Song Yunzhi, bewildered: “Heir—?”

Song Yunzhi’s gaze darkened. He strode toward the rear courtyards.

Madam Park still could not grasp what was happening. Then her confidant threw himself onto her legs, trembling.

“Madam—madam—we found the Second Young Master!”

She blinked.

Her second son?

He was back? Where? The Park family desperately needed manpower tonight—

But the maid was crying. “The Second Young Master was locked in a room by Princess Mingfeng…”

Madam Park’s eyelid twitched violently. A dreadful feeling rose.

The maid stammered, “We don’t know when the princess got hold of him—but his tongue was pulled out. He can’t speak.”

Madam Park’s legs buckled. A ringing filled her ears.

The maid continued through sobs: “The princess is vicious beyond belief. I almost didn’t recognize him. When the barbarians threw him out, his hands and feet were shackled so long the metal had worn into bone. He… he’s been tortured beyond recognition…”

If not for the second wave of attackers rummaging through every room, the Park family would never have known their missing son had been in their own estate all along.

No one knew how long Princess Mingfeng had been torturing him.

Madam Park had assumed he was hiding—or in Song Yunzhi’s hands.

She never imagined the culprit was Princess Mingfeng.