After she finished speaking, Master Jiang fell into silence, saying he needed to think things over carefully.
Unexpectedly, he reached a decision rather quickly—and even brought her into it.
Yu Xiang was taken aback for a moment, then beckoned to Qiuyun. “Then let her stay.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Qiuyun patted the Seventh Miss on the back, signaling the girl to head upstairs alone.
Jiang Chuling tugged at Sister Xiaoqiu’s hand, glancing back with every step and reluctantly following Assistant Steward Sun up the stairs.
Now only Yu Xiang, Qiuyun, and the people brought by Mr. Sun remained in the living room.
Having lived in a wealthy family for decades, Yu Xiang was no longer the timid girl she once was. She lifted her teacup and spoke calmly, “What business does Master Jiang have with me? Lawyers have been called in—is he planning to discuss a divorce?”
“How could that be!” Assistant Steward Sun was startled. He quickly opened the safe with his fingerprint and a passcode. “Master Jiang wants to hand over the management authority of the Main Branch to you. I’m here specifically to conduct the handover.”
What?!
Yu Xiang was frozen in shock.
“This is the backup of the core shareholding documents and the Krypton Shield disk—it requires an iris scan from Master Jiang to open. Here are all the spare keys and initial passwords for the Main Branch’s several estates. And this is…”
Assistant Steward Sun explained every item in the safe one by one. Then the finance manager brought out a stack of card holders and a laptop, showing Madam Jiang a clear overview of which cards were for income, dividends, insurance, expenses, investments, and custodian purposes. He even detailed what the dozen or so expense cards were specifically used for, and which primary cards were linked to the subsidiary cards held by the three children…
After that, several managers and lawyers handed over their business cards, each explaining their respective roles. From now on, their main point of contact would be Madam Jiang.
…
A full hour later, the tedious and complex handover finally ended.
These managers and lawyers had worked for years; it was just a change of liaison, leaving their own workload unchanged.
Before, whenever they needed the head of the household’s approval on something, they first reported to Assistant Steward Sun, who would then seek out Master Jiang during his free time.
Now, things were far more convenient—they could skip the middleman and directly contact the person in charge.
After Sun and his team left, Yu Xiang finally allowed her stiff back to relax slightly.
She had never imagined that after such a long cold war, Jiang Yihua would choose to entrust her with the Main Branch’s management authority like this!
Glancing at the calm-looking Xiaoqiu, whose expression was as composed as if none of this surprised her in the least, Yu Xiang couldn’t help asking, “Did you get Master Jiang to do all this last night?”
Qiuyun’s main goal was to mend the relationship between the two heads of the household and help the Main Branch get back on its feet.
She shook her head. “I didn’t suggest any of this. I only told Master Jiang that over the years, he had never given you, Madam Jiang, the power that a hostess rightfully deserves. Naturally, it wouldn’t be fair to expect you to fulfill a wife’s duties without that respect.”
No sooner had she spoken than Yu Xiang’s eyes reddened.
For all these years, everyone had said she had married up. Everyone envied her for entering such a wealthy family. And indeed, she ate well, dressed well, and had the best of everything. Jiang Yihua gave her an unlimited black card and never questioned a thing she bought, even if it cost millions.
But what she truly wanted more than any of that… was never these luxuries.
She wished that Jiang Yihua were just a penniless university graduate, that the two of them could share as husband and wife in hardship and happiness side by side, grow old together heart to heart, discussing every important decision—big or small—together. Not living as an outsider in her own home, constantly cautious and afraid to make a single misstep in this unfamiliar environment, terrified of losing any say in her own life.
Yu Xiang often envied her teacher and his wife.
Every day after work, the couple would walk hand in hand to the supermarket, then cook dinner together in their bright kitchen. Occasionally, they’d exchange a glance and share a look of endless sweetness.
But her own life was nothing like that. She only got to have dinner with her husband three or four times a week, and sometimes even on weekends he was nowhere to be found.
She knew people might call her an idealist, or someone who didn’t know how good she had it. But the truth was, she was just an ordinary person who longed for a simple, well-off life—the lively hum of everyday happiness.
Not a world where, despite living in a wealthy household, her husband and children were rarely seen, leaving her with no real sense of being a wife or a mother.
Qiuyun handed her a tissue. Her expression was calm and measured, without a trace of pity or condescension.
Yu Xiang took it and dabbed at the corner of her eyes. “You must be laughing at me. I just never expected that you would be the first person to notice how I truly felt.”
Qiuyun said softly, “Madam Jiang is a kind and gentle person. You would rather suffer in silence than impose on others.”
Those few words, so warm and precise, made Yu Xiang’s eyes tear up again.
It was true.
If she had ever asked Jiang Yihua for more power or responsibility in the household, he would have certainly given it to her. But she had never wanted to put him in an awkward position or burden him further when he was already overwhelmed with business.
Yu Xiang couldn’t hold back her sobs this time. She cried so hard she felt lightheaded, finally leaning her head on Qiuyun’s shoulder, holding the crumpled tissue tightly.
After she had cried and released her pent-up emotions, Yu Xiang composed herself. “Bring my laptop.”
“Of course.” Qiuyun went upstairs deliberately, taking her time before coming down. When she returned, Yu Xiang had resumed her usual dignified calm. Apart from the faint redness around her eyes, no one could tell anything had happened.
“Here it is, Madam Jiang.”
“Mm.” Yu Xiang opened the laptop and entered a secure website. Instantly, dozens of surveillance footage feeds appeared on the screen!
Qiuyun was stunned.
Wasn’t the rule that only the entrance hall and balcony areas were outfitted with cameras?!
This is…?!
Yu Xiang located the feed for the Moonlight Pavilion living room and instructed, “Xiaoqiu, write down that long list Assistant Steward Sun recited earlier. Keep the paper copy as a backup, and then cut out and delete that section of the video footage.”
She was old-fashioned at heart; no matter how good online firewalls claimed to be, she never trusted they were truly safe in the long run. She preferred to have everything written down on paper, commit it to memory, and then burn it.
Seeing the consistently unflappable Xiaoqiu frozen in obvious bewilderment, Yu Xiang gently reassured her, “Since Master Jiang asked you to stay and listen, that means he intends for you to assist me. There are some things that, under the circumstances, it’s okay to tell you. Don’t worry. The internal surveillance inside the Main Branch’s estates is a classified system across the entire manor. Only Old Master Jiang, Master Jiang, I, Steward Lin, and Assistant Steward Sun have the rights to view it privately. And we don’t even look at it unless it’s necessary.”
Qiuyun shook her head vigorously.
She had originally resigned herself to swallowing the bitter loss over the damaged embroidery and quietly investigating the suspect herself, then getting subtle revenge.
Because years of experience had taught her one thing: the people in charge only care about results. If something was damaged even through no fault of her own, it was still deemed her failure. Asking them to investigate the culprit on her behalf was almost unthinkable—they’d only step in if there was conclusive evidence presented for them to judge.
Thus, when Qiuyun learned there were no cameras in the hallway outside the maids’ rooms, she abandoned any hope of seeking help from her mistress or the young lady. She just threw herself into salvaging the situation. But she never expected such a turn of events—it seemed that whether ancient or modern, the control a wealthy family had within its walls was always the same. Only, back then, the watchful eyes were human informants; now, they had become far more reliable, hidden technological eyes.
“Madam Jiang, there’s something I need to tell you.” Qiuyun’s expression turned grave.
