In the secluded pavilion of the neighboring courtyard garden, shielded by artificial hills to prevent prying eyes, Ye Yunniang leaned against a pillar, secretly observing the events unfolding in the dilapidated temple nearby.
Watching Bai Yurong’s heart-wrenching display of sorrow, she couldn’t help but sigh, "Aunt Bai’s devotion to the old master runs so deep."
"You’re insulting the very meaning of ‘devotion.’ Bai Yurong is merely acting. What she truly wants are the three hidden treasures the old man has secretly stashed away. Just now, her performance earned her one of them. But two remain, so she must keep up the act. The son she bore will come to claim the second treasure from the old man, and when the boy turns seven, he’ll secure the third." Jiang Mingzhe whispered these words close to Ye Yunniang’s ear.
His warm breath tickled her skin, making her tilt her head away, revealing the delicate curve of her slender, fair neck—an irresistible temptation.
Jiang Mingzhe didn’t hesitate to indulge.
"My lord, don’t." Ye Yunniang raised a hand to block his lips. Indulging in the privacy of a room was one thing, but this pavilion, exposed on all sides and at risk of discovery, was entirely inappropriate.
To divert his attention, she asked, "My lord, how do you know about the old master’s three treasures? Weren’t they seized by the authorities?"
Jiang Mingzhe saw right through her little ploy. "Do you want them?"
Ye Yunniang shook her head lightly. What wasn’t rightfully hers, she wouldn’t take.
"Good. Those so-called treasures of the old man aren’t worth much anyway." His tone dripped with disdain as he took Ye Yunniang’s right hand, lifting her index finger.
"The first stash is hidden behind a small hill near the Tranquil Reflection Manor. There’s a concealed cave with ten chests of silver—100,000 taels in total."
Next, he raised her middle finger, nipping it playfully. "The second is in White Cloud Temple. The old man kept a permanent residence there—a guest courtyard filled with Buddha and arhat statues for meditation. Every single one is made of solid gold, costing him 10,000 taels of gold."
Finally, he lifted her ring finger. "The third is right here in this ruined temple. See that broken altar?"
Ye Yunniang followed his gaze to the stone platform in the temple’s main hall, once meant for holding Buddha statues.
"Behind the altar, in the center, count five bricks down. There’s a gap beneath. Slide your finger inside, and you’ll feel a protrusion. Press it hard, and the back wall will slide open, revealing a stone door.
Push it open, and below lies a hidden chamber.
Inside are decades’ worth of the old man’s prized antiques, jewels, jade, gold and silver bricks, and even a box of century-old ginseng he recently added. All told, it’s worth a million taels."
Ye Yunniang looked up at Jiang Mingzhe. "Why are you telling me this?" Did he not fear she might betray him or steal the treasures herself? Wealth had a way of tempting even the most virtuous hearts.
"Would you?" Jiang Mingzhe didn’t answer. Instead, he threw the question back at her.
Her expression darkened. "Are you testing me? My mother once said that if someone uses wealth to test you, they’re no good. Such a person isn’t worth keeping around."
She pushed against Jiang Mingzhe, trying to rise and leave.
"I’m not testing you." He caught her wrist, pulling her back into his embrace.
"Let go." Ye Yunniang struggled, regretting her decision to bring him silver notes today, only to end up feeling insulted.
"I told you all this to reassure you—even after the Jiang family’s confiscation, we won’t starve." He tightened his hold, sensing that if he let her walk away now, their connection would be severed forever. And that was the last thing he wanted.
"Silly woman, you should think more of yourself."
"I’m not silly." She bristled at the accusation. To her, gratitude mattered. She couldn’t bear to see the young master she’d nursed for over a year suffer.
"Jin Huifang won’t suffer. Look at her hair and nails."
Confused, Ye Yunniang glanced at him. What did Madam Jin’s hair and nails have to do with anything?
"Just look." Jiang Mingzhe urged without explanation.
Ye Yunniang parted the curtain slightly, studying Jin Huifang’s head and hands closely.
In the past, Jin Huifang adored gold ornaments, adorning her hair with countless hairpins daily. Her nails were always meticulously groomed, often painted in vibrant hues.
But today, she appeared the plainest Ye Yunniang had ever seen—her hair wrapped in a simple cloth, her nails painted a modest red.
"Jin Huifang’s hair is sparse. To wear her elaborate hairstyles, she secretly bought hair from others, crafting false buns to pin atop her head. Those buns conceal gold. Now, observe her hands—her nails are layered."
"Layered?" Ye Yunniang didn’t understand.
"Jin Huifang dislikes staining her nails but craved their beauty. She went to great lengths to find a master craftsman who fashioned thin, delicate nail covers from gold, silver, pearls, and tortoiseshell. Each piece costs at least 100 taels."
Ye Yunniang stared at Jin Huifang’s elegant, seemingly flawless nails—they were fake?
"Don’t worry about Jiang Tingjun going hungry. His mother carries enough wealth on her person to last him a while. And if that runs out, his father has his own means. Fourth Uncle may seem simple, but he’s clever in his own way.
He’s quietly acquired several properties under his wet nurse’s name—three shops, two estates, and 100 acres of prime farmland. His wet nurse, childless, treats him as her own son, managing it all faithfully for him."
Hearing this, Ye Yunniang’s worries for the young master eased slightly. Still, she had no desire to hear more of the Jiang family’s secrets and tried again to leave.
Jiang Mingzhe refused to release her, instead capturing her earlobe between his teeth. "Stay with me a little longer."
"The sun’s setting." She glanced at the fading daylight, eager to return home to her mother and Pan’er.
"Just a bit more. I’ll share one last secret." He directed her attention to Old Madam Jiang.
"Guess what she’s hiding."
Ye Yunniang studied the old woman—her thinning hair bore no false additions, no hidden gold or silver. Her plain robes couldn’t conceal much, and her nails were clean, unpainted…
"I can’t tell." She admitted honestly.
"When Old Madam Jiang was young, she traveled with the old master on business. Bandits robbed them not only of their silver and goods but even stripped her of her padded coat. She barely survived that winter, begging her way home in thin clothing, losing two fingers on her left hand to frostbite.
Later, when fortune favored them, she grew self-conscious about her disfigurement and sought replacements.
At first, she used wood, wrapping it to mimic fingers.
But once the family prospered, she commissioned artisans to craft an entire case of prosthetic fingers from gold, jade, and emerald. For realism, she even purchased human skin to cover them."
"Hu-human skin?" Ye Yunniang’s voice trembled. Was this really the same kind-hearted Jiang family she knew?
"Initially, she selected female convicts sentenced to death, buying their fingers post-execution for 20 taels each. The skin was peeled, treated, and fitted over the prosthetics.
But over time, she grew disgusted by the stench and superstition surrounding corpses.
So she sent trusted maids to scour impoverished villages, seeking beautiful young women with lovely hands. For 50 to 100 taels per finger, some desperate families allowed their daughters’ fingers to be severed on the spot."
