61

After all, during these past few days, Meng Changle had been coming and going from the Duke’s Estate as if it were her own home. She had been extraordinarily filial and attentive to the Duke and Madam Qiao, spending even less time at the Meng residence, effectively acting as though she were already a young lady of the Duke’s Estate.

As parents, how could they possibly feel at ease watching all this from the sidelines?

"When all is said and done, Changle was not raised by our side since childhood; she cannot compare to Qingyue in terms of closeness," Madam Zhao said. Then, thinking of how her own son and daughter had been driven to such wretched states on account of Meng Changle, while Changle herself seemed entirely devoid of gratitude, her heart and mind already completely consumed by the wealth and prestige of the Duke’s Estate, she let out a soft sigh. A belated sense of regret welled up within her heart.

The Marquis of Huainan, in a rare display of agreement, chimed in, "Qingyue has her good points, too. In the past, we were somewhat harsh toward her. Once she returns, we must make it up to her properly."

As the two spoke, every word they uttered leaked their profound dissatisfaction with Meng Changle.

Meanwhile, at that very moment, Meng Changle was keeping Madam Qiao company in the Duke's Estate, drafting the guest list. Madam Qiao affectionately brushed a stray lock of hair from Meng Changle’s temples, her eyes brimming with gentleness. "Changle, thanks to having you by my side these past few days, I haven't felt nearly as lonely."

Meng Changle smiled, two shallow dimples appearing at the corners of her lips. She rested her head sideways against Madam Qiao’s lap, her voice soft and tender, "Being able to show filial piety to you, Aunt, is Changle's greatest blessing. As long as Aunt is happy every day, Changle will have no regrets left in this world."

These words melted Madam Qiao's heart. She pulled Meng Changle into her embrace as if holding a rare and peerless treasure.

Feeling the warmth radiating from Madam Qiao’s body, Meng Changle hesitated for a moment, and then with a clear conscience dismissed the thought of returning to visit the Marquis and his wife that evening.

In truth, over the past few days, she had vaguely sensed a growing coldness and alienation from her parents. At first, she had tried to act submissively, softening her stance and explaining things to them in detail, fearing that the bonds of family affection might grow distant.

However, as the days spent at the Duke’s Estate increased and her relationship with Madam Qiao grew steadily closer, she naturally found herself unable to spare that much attention for the Marquis’s Estate.

Therefore, even though she sensed that her parents no longer treated her as warmly as before, Meng Changle simply didn't take it to heart.

After all, she was about to become a daughter of the Qiao family; what need was there to waste effort trying to win the favor of her birth parents from the Meng family?

Having made up her mind, she now fawned over Madam Qiao a hundred times over. After the two chatted for quite a while, Meng Changle suddenly remembered to ask about the guest list they were drafting for the day, "Aunt, is there something happening at the estate recently? Why are we hosting a banquet?"

Madam Qiao stroked Meng Changle’s hair, smiling with maternal fondness, "Xian'er’s maternal uncle will be returning to the capital in three days. Having spent many years guarding the border regions, he is finally coming back, so we are throwing a welcome banquet for him."

Xian'er's maternal uncle?

Meng Changle thought for a moment, vaguely recalling that he seemed to be some sort of general, but knowing nothing else beyond that.

Consequently, she paid it no mind, let alone cared why this uncle, who had guarded the frontier for so many years, was suddenly returning to the capital for no apparent reason.

Thus, she simply focused on coaxing Madam Qiao into laughter. The two of them chatted harmoniously and smoothly finished drafting the guest list, awaiting the day when princes and nobles would gather for a grand feast.

Meng Qingyuan was exhausted to the point of nearly fainting.

She had spent the entire morning scrubbing the outhouse. Not only was the stench suffocating, but after straining to lug a massive bucket of water over and squatting down, she immediately felt something amiss beneath her feet.

Shifting her foot and looking down, she was met with the horrifying sight of several plump, white maggots cut clean in half by her step. Their heads and bodies were severed, yet they were still writhing in stubborn agony, oozing a yellowish-white paste.

"Ugh—"

Meng Qingyue violently retched up the two steamed buns and pickled vegetables she had eaten for breakfast.

She bolted outside, coughing up virtually all the sour bile in her chest right by the latrine entrance. Mucus and tears smeared across her entire face, and her stomach continued to heave in wave after wave. Only after taking quite a while to steady herself did she finally stand up, leaning against the nearby wall.

Then she turned around, re-entered the outhouse, and picked up the wooden brush.

Tying a piece of white cloth around her mouth and nose to serve as a mask, she wasted no more time and resumed her work. She was not a particularly fastidious person; once the initial wave of nausea passed, her only thought was to finish the chores as quickly as possible.

Although that Daoist nun was overbearing, what she said wasn't entirely unreasonable. Since she had come to Qingyun Temple, naturally there was no reason to wait for others to serve her. Doing chores and sharing in the minor tasks of the temple was her proper duty.

Meng Qingyue was unaware that when Madam Zhao had sent her to Qingyun Temple, she had already spoken with the abbot and donated five hundred taels of incense money precisely to ensure that Meng Qingyue could live in peace within the temple walls.

However, this sum of silver had been quietly intercepted by Meng Changle, leaving no one else privy to the truth. Even Meng Qingyue herself felt that since she had come to Qingyun Temple, she could not simply eat and drink for free without contributing.

She scrubbed for a full hour.

The sun climbed high into the sky, and the weather grew warm. Although it was still early spring, the harsh sunlight pricked fiercely against people's faces. Meng Qingyue wiped away the fine sweat on her temples, her chest heaving as she panted heavily from exhaustion.

Caring little about cleanliness anymore, she unsealed the water pouch she had filled that very morning right there in the stinking outhouse and gulped the water straight down her throat.

After finishing the water, she went right back to scrubbing.

By the time the sun reached its zenith and the stale odors that had accumulated in the outhouse overnight had slightly dissipated, Meng Qingyue had finally transferred all the filth from the latrine into the night-soil buckets.

The outhouse had been scrubbed spotlessly clean, and half a dozen night-soil buckets were neatly lined up with their lids securely fastened. All that remained was to shoulder them to the back mountain and dump them, and her morning chores would be finished.

Thinking of this, a slight sense of eagerness stirred within her, and she gathered her strength, preparing to carry the night-soil buckets away.

"Are you finished scrubbing?"

A shrill, sarcastic female voice pierced her eardrums, more unpleasant than the stench of the latrine. Meng Qingyue instinctively furrowed her brows and looked up, only to see the very same nun who had brandished her authority earlier that morning, followed by a young novice nun carrying a night-soil bucket.

She rose with slight hesitation and answered honestly, "The outhouse has been scrubbed clean. I was just about to go dump the night-soil buckets..."

As Meng Qingyue spoke, the nun crossed her arms and swept her gaze around the narrow outhouse.

Seeing that it was indeed spotless and immaculate, and unable to find a single flaw upon close inspection, she couldn't help feeling somewhat displeased, though she had no grounds left to make criticisms.

Meng Qingyue’s expression remained silent and obedient. "If Revered Nun has inspected it and found no issues, I will go empty the buckets now..."

She knew this nun was looking for trouble, but at that moment her back ached so badly she could barely straighten up, and she had no spare energy to engage in a battle of wits. She simply wanted to finish her task and be done with it.

The nun's complexion turned rather unsightly.