Inside Rongxi Hall.
Jia Mu wore a troubled expression, while Jia Zheng was weighed down by worries.
Even Wang Xifeng, usually the most adept at smoothing things over, pressed her lips tightly together, her phoenix eyes following Concubine Zhao as she left.
"Master, Master, say something fair!" Panic filled Madam Wang's eyes as she lunged forward and seized Jia Zheng's arm.
Jia Zheng's face darkened. He was about to curse that unfilial wretch, but when he remembered the heroic feat of carrying a coffin to remonstrate at the risk of death, he swallowed every word.
Madam Wang turned toward Jia Mu and pleaded earnestly:
"Old Matriarch, those two shameless maidservants kept seducing Baoyu. Was I wrong to discipline them? I merely struck a little too hard. Besides, they both signed contracts selling themselves into servitude. Even beating them to death wouldn't be a crime!"
Jia Mu sighed helplessly:
"What can these old bones of mine do?"
Madam Wang's cheeks twisted as she cried angrily:
"Those charges are utterly baseless! Don't try to frame me. The court cannot possibly strip me of my rank!"
"Enough!" Jia Zheng smashed his teacup on the floor and roared:
"If you hadn't fanned the flames, would Wang Ziteng, the dignified Nine Gates Commander, have stooped so low as to target Huan'er's mother? And now you act as though you've suffered some monstrous injustice! You spend your days scheming within the household, and this time you've brought disaster down on your own head!"
"It's all slander!" Madam Wang screamed herself hoarse.
Suddenly.
Concubine Zhao returned to Rongxi Hall, her hands empty.
She seemed distracted, even somewhat ill at ease:
"Where's Huan'er?"
"He went back to his room. Where's the edict announcing the rewards?" Jia Zheng asked.
Concubine Zhao sighed.
That sigh instantly quelled Madam Wang's fury.