Concubine Maid

After Zhu Xiaoqi ran out crying, only a short while passed before Xiao Yu, dressed neatly with a golden hairpin in her hair, entered the east wing under the dim yellow lamplight, leading Zhu Xiaoqi by the hand. Zhu Xiaoqi was wrapped in nothing but a blanket, tears streaming down her face like pear blossoms in the rain.

Xiao Yu walked to the center of the room opposite the bed and pulled Zhu Xiaoqi down to kneel.

The lamplight fell on Xiao Yu's rouged face, yet it was filled with sorrow and grief.

"Husband..." Xiao Yu called out in a mournful voice, then actually prostrated herself on the floor.

Startled, Zhu Xiaoqi immediately followed her down, though her hands remained tightly clutched around the blanket wrapped about her body.

Duan Rong lay on the bed and sighed. He rose, got out of bed, and leaned over to help Xiao Yu up.

"Get up first! We're husband and wife—what is there that we can't talk about?"

Though Duan Rong was supporting her, Xiao Yu stubbornly remained prostrate and refused to rise. In a grief-stricken voice, she said, "If Husband is willing to pity me, then let Little Seven leave behind an heir for my branch of the family. If Husband is unwilling, then simply divorce me and cast me out. That way, I will not be left here without even room to plant a needle, becoming a laughingstock for nothing."

Duan Rong stood there, looking at Xiao Yu still kneeling prostrate on the floor. His expression darkened, and he said coldly, "Xiao Yu, are you forcing your husband's hand!?"

"I would never dare!" Hearing his words, Xiao Yu raised her head. Her face was already drenched in tears. "I will pack my things at once and take Little Seven back to