Chapter 10 — TVF Chapter 10

The Love-Brained Empress (10) Xiao Dalang, overwhelmed by pain and shock, had sweat streaming down his forehead and along his cheeks. His eyes were bloodshot, yet he still had the strength to grab his wife by the collar.

“Speak!”

He’d met disaster not long after their wedding, and he had always been full of guilt toward his wife. For years she had stayed by his side without complaint, comforting him, supporting him. He had been deeply ashamed—and deeply grateful.

But now his father had just said that the reason his injuries worsened… had something to do with his wife.

Even though he hadn’t seen his father for years, Xiao Dalang trusted him without reservation. His grip tightened.

“Say it!”

Madam Wu was dragged to the couch. She could only shake her head frantically, unable to force out a single word.

Qin Jingzhou took advantage of the moment—his eldest son’s emotions fully focused on Madam Wu—to work efficiently. One hand firmly fixed his son’s ankle, the other grasped his calf bone. Twist, align, push, press—the leg bones he had personally broken earlier were now fully reset, though the limb immediately swelled and flushed red in his hands.

Limited by the environment, many techniques were unusable, but when it came to treating traumatic injuries, he was confident.

A full recovery wouldn’t be easy, but after proper recuperation, returning to the battlefield was not a fantasy.

Thinking of this, his smile grew genuinely warmer.

Xiao Dalang, meanwhile, had nearly gone into cardiopulmonary shutdown from pain during his father’s rapid-fire procedures. His vision blanked out briefly. When his senses returned, the first thing he saw was his father smiling at him.

Guessing his father’s intentions, he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He was drenched in sweat from pain and rage alike, as if he’d been pulled straight from water. He couldn’t help muttering weakly, “Couldn’t you have warned me first?”

Qin Jingzhou patted him lightly and said with a grin, “Heal up properly. Later, Father will take you north—to hunt wolves and big foxes.”

Xiao Dalang understood the subtext instantly. His eyes lit up.

“Alright!”

Even so, he still refused to let go of Madam Wu’s collar. He trusted that his father would never speak without reason.

Qin Jingzhou returned to his chair and took a towel from his youngest daughter to wipe his hands.

“Your eldest sister lacks imperial favor and has no son. The Wu family is much like the Antai Marquis’ household—both want to curry favor with the Consort. If they wanted to defect to the Qi family, or pledge loyalty to the emperor, they needed a pledge of allegiance. When you were first injured, she probably didn’t intend to harm you. But when your recovery went poorly and the imperial physicians said you’d walk again but likely with a disability, other thoughts arose—passing information, using her identity as your wife to earn silver. She never quite crossed the line into wanting you dead.”

Third Miss Xiao snorted. “She couldn’t bear to part with him, and she couldn’t bear to part with her natal family either. She wanted to please both sides. Greedy for everything.”

She could afford to be sharp only because one look at Father’s expression told her her brother’s leg repair had gone well.

Second Miss Xiao stepped forward, voice low. “Father… are you saying—?”

The Wu family’s eagerness to flatter the Consort and the Qi clan was obvious to anyone with eyes, but she never imagined her sister-in-law—who seemed devoted to her brother and distant from her natal family—could harbor such intentions.

Qin Jingzhou patted his second daughter’s hand. “Let your brother decide for himself. Just like back then—Father only brought you home after understanding your heart.”

Second Miss Xiao nodded, then deliberately turned to her brother. “I’ve already asked everything for you.”

Xiao Dalang released his grip. Madam Wu collapsed onto the floor.

“Father,” he said weakly but firmly, “I also want a divorce.”

“One act of betrayal is enough to forfeit trust a hundred times over.” Qin Jingzhou felt deeply satisfied. “Very good. Dare to love, dare to hate—that’s my child.”

Somewhat inappropriately, Second Miss Xiao wanted to laugh. Father, when you mock Eldest Sister, we all hear it—we just don’t say it. With his father’s approval secured, Xiao Dalang looked at Madam Wu, his voice trembling. “Even if we once lived in harmony, I can’t tolerate this. Let’s divorce. Leave each other some dignity.”

Madam Wu wanted to scream: You’re only dumping me because your father backs you and your legs are healing! But the guards nearby were watching like hawks, killing intent practically leaking out. And her smiling father-in-law—whose smile chilled her to the bone—stood right there. Two earlier examples had already been beaten senseless and dragged away. She was terrified that one wrong word would land her the same fate.

So she could only sit there, silently crying, hoping her husband might soften.

She cried for a while—shocked, angry—but he never looked at her again. Her heart slowly went cold.

Once Qin Jingzhou was certain his son wouldn’t waver, he ordered someone to summon the Wu family. Settle today what belongs to today—no loose ends. Like the Antai Marquis’ household, the Wu family ranked slightly below Duke Cheng’en’s. But unlike the marquis’ wife, Madam Wu’s parents and brothers were shrewd and pragmatic rather than foolishly delusional.

When the Cheng’en household steward arrived, Madam Wu’s mother felt her scalp go numb. She knew something terrible had happened—she was fully aware of what her daughter and family had been doing all these years.

When she’d heard earlier that Duke Cheng’en had returned to the capital and taken back his second daughter from the Antai household, her heart had already been hanging in midair. Now the stone finally fell—but not the way she’d hoped.

After sending the steward away, she wasted no time dispatching a trusted aide to summon her husband from the government office.

The Wu couple arrived with their eldest son at Duke Cheng’en’s residence. The moment they saw Qin Jingzhou, their mood worsened further.

They were different from their children. They had personally witnessed Duke Cheng’en at the height of his power.

The present Duke Cheng’en didn’t seem diminished at all—if anything, age had made him more restrained, more dangerous. And with Emperor Taizong gone, there was now no one left who could truly restrain him.

How many petty, disgusting acts had the emperor committed against the Cheng’en household over the years? If Duke Cheng’en chose not to endure any longer… the Wu family had no desire to become the first sacrificial banner.

Official Wu took a deep breath and immediately admitted fault.

Madam Wu followed suit, pulling her daughter close and urging her to apologize and accept her fate.

Madam Wu herself was stunned.

Her husband’s cold insistence on divorce had already shaken her, but she’d at least imagined this outcome before. She could still hold on.

What she never expected was for her own parents—the ones meant to back her—to strike her down just as hard.

She’d been pampered growing up. After marrying Xiao Dalang, the couple had treated each other with courtesy and respect. Even after his injury, he’d treated her well. She’d never suffered real grievance in her life.

Now, her parents’ sudden turn shattered her completely. She broke down.

“Why should I—! When messages needed passing, you used me, and now that I’m useless—”

She didn’t finish the sentence before Madam Wu’s mother clamped a hand over her mouth.

Madam Wu swore she’d never seen her mother’s expression so dark. She felt that if she said another word, her mother might choke her unconscious on the spot.

Bullied by strength and fearing consequences, she once again chose submission.

Only after she quieted did Official Wu exchange a glance with his wife and address Duke Cheng’en solemnly. “I’ve failed to teach my daughter. If she’s done wrong, scold her, discipline her as you see fit…”

Qin Jingzhou set down his teacup and cut him off. “That’s enough. Even if our paths diverge, we’ve had past ties. Let’s all keep some dignity.”

At those words, the Wu couple stopped struggling.

Duke Cheng’en’s return made them realize they’d been trying to hedge their bets. The Qi family looked promising, but had a fatal flaw: none of them truly understood warfare. The military men who followed them were mostly hollow reputations. Duke Cheng’en was different—he could fight, and nearly every capable general had either been promoted by him or by someone he once supported.

No wonder the emperor treated him as a thorn in the flesh.

Unless the Qi family could unite several powerful princes against him, their future was far from certain.

Official Wu nodded after a moment’s thought. “Very well. As you say—let’s part cleanly.”

Madam Wu’s eyes widened. She tried to speak again, only to have her mouth covered once more by her mother.

Finally seeing her parents for who they truly were—and what she meant to them—she broke down completely, sobbing without pretense.

No one present cared.

Once the Wu couple made up their minds, they moved quickly, packing their daughter’s attendants and dowry.

Qin Jingzhou had no interest in a farewell meal. He had them escorted out. After dinner, he had his eldest son moved into the warm side chamber, both for care and to personally comfort him.

Though he didn’t show it, the betrayal by his wife had enraged Xiao Dalang deeply. Even with divorce settled, it still hurt.

After carefully inspecting the swollen, tightly immobilized injured leg, Qin Jingzhou said to his son, who leaned back dazedly in his chair, “They bullied you right to your doorstep—and divorce alone is enough?” He smiled and looked at his second daughter bringing tea. “Is that how your old man does things?”

Second Miss Xiao smiled faintly. With her facial swelling half gone and a thick scab on her forehead, she no longer wore a veil at home. She stepped forward and personally handed medicinal tea to both her father and brother.

“I believe in Father.”

Third Miss Xiao popped a piece of candied fruit from the tray and grinned. “Wrong timing, that’s all. Endure for now—wait until Father gets the tiger tally.”

Second Miss Xiao flicked her sister’s forehead lightly. “You think you’re so clever.”

Xiao Dalang’s expression changed instantly. His heart leapt into his throat. “Father!” Of all the siblings, he knew best how loyal his father had once been to the throne.

Qin Jingzhou touched his son’s forehead and laughed. “If the ruler wants his minister dead… I’ve lived enough—it wouldn’t matter. But if he wants my children dead…” His smile hardened. “Then to hell with him.”

His children were completely stunned.

Then relieved.

None of them felt fear—win or lose, the family would face it together.

The next day, Qin Jingzhou received word from the Jingzhao authorities: both divorce records had been annulled. His eldest son and second daughter were officially free.

The Antai Marquis’ household and the Wu family soon received their own notices. Their feelings were complicated. Divorces processed this fast—who would believe the emperor hadn’t approved it?

Three days later, Qin Jingzhou was summoned to the palace. In the Hall of Mental Cultivation, he saw not only the emperor and empress, but also several others who had clearly been waiting: the Antai Marquis, Official Wu, and Qi Er—second brother of the Consort, currently serving as supervising censor at the suburban military camp.

Qin Jingzhou understood immediately.

If he accepted the campaign south, the Antai Marquis would be his deputy commander. Official Wu would be the army’s chief civil advisor. Qi Er would serve as imperial supervisor.

Each of them either had personal grudges against him or represented direct conflicts of interest. The emperor thought only of using them to restrain and disgust him—forgetting that even combined, they didn’t equal a single finger of Duke Cheng’en’s prestige in the army.

If anything “unexpected” happened, Qin Jingzhou could claim wartime necessity and remove them one by one. The soldiers would likely applaud.

If Prince Jing saw this lineup, he’d probably cry on the spot.

Qin Jingzhou looked calmly at the emperor, who seemed rather pleased with himself.

Even so, Qin Jingzhou couldn’t find the emperor’s face hateful.

The man really was absurdly handsome.

A shame that his looks came at the cost of intelligence.