When Feng Linlang stepped out, her face was flushed with barely concealed anger (from being provoked), which aroused Chai Jin's suspicion.
Adding to his doubts was the distant sight of Prince Qi leaving the area earlier—what had been a three-part suspicion now grew to seven.
This led to the confrontation after their return home.
Upon hearing his wife's account, Chai Jin was filled with fury and humiliation.
He sought out his father, and together, the two men entered the palace to demand justice for the couple.
Though Prince Qi held no real power as an idle royal, he was still the emperor's younger brother. As subjects who had suffered injustice, it was only natural for them to appeal to their "patriarch" for redress.
The father and son had also calculated that the emperor would favor useful ministers over a brother who might covet the throne.
Even though Chai Jin believed his wife, he wouldn’t rely solely on her testimony. Before their audience with the emperor, while Feng Linlang rested, Chai Jin tricked her personal maid, Yang Liu, into coming out.
He ordered his trusted attendants and a few strong servants to interrogate her.
Under threats and coaxing, Yang Liu had no choice but to reveal the truth—her account matched Feng Linlang’s exactly.
Only then did the father and son proceed with their formal complaint.
Chai Jin choked back tears as he pleaded, "Your Majesty, Your Majesty… I beg you to uphold justice for your humble servant and his wife…"
They had children to consider. If word spread that Prince Qi had dishonored a minister’s wife, how would their children ever marry? How could his wife continue to live with dignity?
Yet if he didn’t seek the emperor’s intervention, Feng Linlang’s words suggested Prince Qi intended to move against him.
Though Prince Qi was an idle prince, he had skillfully cultivated a sterling reputation among officials.
Chai Jin’s family, however, came from a military background. In the Great Yan Dynasty, civil officials held far greater sway than military ones, and his connections were mostly among fellow officers, with few influential civil allies at court.
Facing Prince Qi, even without other complications, the need to protect his wife’s reputation and his children’s future left him with little room to maneuver. Left with no choice, he exposed his family’s shame and turned to the emperor.
Chai Jin’s father, Cai Yanping, also knelt and declared, "Your Majesty, my son and I swear our loyalty to you and the Great Yan Dynasty is as unwavering as the sun and moon.
Yet Prince Qi has repeatedly harassed and coerced my daughter-in-law—and now, for this illicit affair, he seeks to frame my son and me!
Though we have never overstepped our bounds, as the saying goes, ‘Give a dog a bad name and hang him.’ We fear for our lives!"
Emperor Mingxi motioned for Eunuch Qian to help them up and said, "I only learned of this matter this morning. Before your arrival, I had already ordered Prince Qi to reflect in seclusion. Barring unforeseen circumstances, he will not emerge for years.
So, Ministers Chai, your fears of impeachment or false accusations will come to nothing.
As for Prince Qi’s consort, the younger Madam Feng, she has already divorced him. The elder Madam Feng suffered this injustice undeservedly—it is indeed our imperial family’s failing. You must not blame her for it."
Once the storm passed, he would have the empress bestow gifts as compensation. For now, any overt action would only endanger her reputation rather than help.
Gossip could kill—Emperor Mingxi knew this all too well.
To him, Prince Qi was already a dead man. The only reason he hadn’t executed him immediately was to uncover evidence of his rebellion and draw out all his conspirators.
The emperor was certain his brother, having schemed for so long, wouldn’t surrender quietly. A counterattack was inevitable—he had no doubt.
Emperor Mingxi sat back like a fisherman waiting for Xie Qi’s followers to leap into his net.
Meanwhile, Yue Fuguang had just left the palace when she spotted her grandfather and father waiting at the gates.
The moment he saw her, Yu Chongshan broke into a relieved smile. "Fuguang, are you alright?"
Though his granddaughter had mentioned in her thoughts yesterday that she would teach Princess Taikang and Prince Qi a lesson, they’d assumed she would complain to the empress dowager.
Never had they imagined she would take her grievance directly to the emperor.
The family had worried that what seemed a grave matter to them might appear trivial to His Majesty, who might then see them as presumptuous or spoiled. Though her status as a minor celestial being ensured no real repercussions, Yu Chongshan couldn’t rest until he saw her safe.
Besides, she had acted for her cousin Yu Qingyu and the Yu family—standing here to welcome her was the least they could do.
Instead of their granddaughter, however, they first witnessed the exits of Prince Qi’s household and Princess Taikang’s family.
Unlike Prince Qi’s unscathed party, Marquess Xu and his son were in dire straits—beaten to a bloody pulp, their faces deathly pale as they lay on stretchers.
Had Princess Taikang not appeared relatively unharmed aside from her grim expression, they might have thought the two men dead!
The glares the two families shot at the Yus were filled with venomous resentment.
Rather than cower, Yu Chongshan and his son straightened their backs proudly.
With such unshakable support, they had no reason to bow anymore!
Clearly, Yue Fuguang’s imperial complaint had yielded spectacular results.
Still, a trace of worry lingered—what if their granddaughter, surrounded by mediocrity, grew tired of them and moved out?
Had she known their thoughts, Yue Fuguang would have laughed. Living alone was the last thing she wanted.
As an official, handling social obligations and household affairs alone would be a nightmare. Did they expect her to manage servants and chores herself?
Even with a steward, she couldn’t possibly ignore such responsibilities entirely.
Just look at how busy the Yu matriarch was—her workload rivaled that of a corporate CEO!
She’d once considered independence, but the calculations quickly dissuaded her. In this era, living alone was nothing like the carefree solitude of modern times.
She’d much rather laze around and "live off her family"—the ideal life!
Now, she had a spacious, beautiful courtyard all to herself, undisturbed by social calls or morning rituals. Aside from court duties, her time was entirely her own.
With her grandmother and mother handling all domestic and social affairs flawlessly, what more could she ask for?
As for the imperial complaint, avenging the Yu family and herself had been incidental.
Her true goal was completing the system’s side mission: thwarting Prince Qi’s rebellion and preventing opium’s spread in the Great Yan Dynasty.
She could have delayed the task, but Yu Qingyu’s marriage negotiations provided the perfect opportunity to act naturally.
It also served as a warning to those who couldn’t hear her thoughts—a show of power.
Judging by today’s outcome, the effect was impressive.
Another reason was Prince Qi’s dealings with foreign envoys during the imperial birthday celebrations—he’d already leaked numerous state secrets and technologies.
