My Beautiful Master is Delicate and Charming (28)

"Mother Consort." Mo Yujun sounded somewhat exasperated.

But when he saw Su Qingyun about to strangle the child, Mo Yujun slapped her so hard she was left dazed.

She collapsed heavily onto the ground, her face nearly hitting the floor, her entire body wracked with pain. Lifting her eyes, she stared at Mo Yujun in disbelief.

Over all these years, Mo Yujun had given her the cold shoulder, but laying hands on her? This was the first time.

"You’ve lost your mind! He’s my flesh and blood! You vicious woman!"

If Little Wei had been here, she might have dramatically chimed in:

"Fourth Lord, Fourth Lord, don’t scold Huanhuan anymore—what has Huanhuan done wrong?"

But alas, she wasn’t.

Everything seemed to revert to the days when Zhao Yiyi was still around—Su Qingyun, left alone in her empty chambers, pressing a cold egg to her face as tears dripped down pitifully.

"My lady, perhaps... you should visit the Prime Minister’s residence," the maid beside her suggested, unable to bear the sight.

With the prince fallen from power and the Prime Minister now at the height of his influence, wasn’t this the perfect time to seek his help?

Why torture herself?

"I’m a married woman now. What reason do I have to go running back to my family?" Su Qingyun was utterly heartbroken.

The maid could only sigh in frustration.

At a time like this, why cling to such trivial proprieties?

It was embarrassing—having a mistress who insisted on debasing herself made the maid a laughingstock among the other servants. What was there even to say?

Still, Su Qingyun eventually made her way to the Prime Minister’s residence. Truthfully, ever since her younger brother was born, she had wanted to sever ties with her parents.

They didn’t love her anymore. They didn’t care about her feelings at all.

And they’d had a son without even consulting her. Wasn’t she their legitimate daughter too?

Su Qingyun was devastated.

When she knocked on the gate of the Prime Minister’s residence, the steward’s expression shifted slightly at the sight of her.

"Greetings to the Princess Consort."

For some reason, this title—once a source of pride and sweetness—now made her feel like an outsider in her own home.

Su Qingyun opened her parched lips to speak, but before she could, she saw her father supporting her mother as they both gazed fondly at the child in the nursemaid’s arms.

A child. Another child.

She truly loathed children.

"Princess Consort?" The steward looked at her, puzzled.

Her heart aching, Su Qingyun turned and left. Watching her retreating figure, the steward hesitated before reporting her visit to the Prime Minister.

"Hah. So she still remembers she has a father," the Prime Minister sneered.

Though a married daughter was like spilled water, other families’ daughters still visited their parents now and then. Even empty-handed, a few words would have brought him and his wife joy.

But this? It was as if she wasn’t even their child.

Especially after that incident at the execution grounds—the Prime Minister had initially brushed it off, pretending his daughter knew nothing. But then he saw her, humiliatingly clinging to the very man who had framed her own father.

His heart turned to ice.

An unfilial daughter like this was better off disowned. As if she’d never been born.

The Prime Minister’s wife, however, couldn’t harden her heart. "Should we send someone to Prince Qi’s Mansion to ask? What if Yun’er has suffered some grievance?"

"Enough. If she’s truly wronged, she can come and tell us herself," the Prime Minister snapped.

His wife sighed, but when the baby reached out its tiny hand to grasp her finger, her heart melted instantly.

"Well... she’s a married woman now. We shouldn’t interfere in the prince’s household affairs."

Meanwhile, upon returning to the mansion, Su Qingyun spotted a palanquin parked at the entrance. A woman in plain white robes stepped out, her face eerily familiar.

It looked like Wen Nuan, a former maid of the mansion.

Su Qingyun moved to approach her, but the mansion’s steward—a loyal servant of Consort De—blocked her path with a disdainful look.

"My lady, this is the birth mother of the young master. What are you trying to do?" His tone was mocking.

"Why didn’t the prince tell me? Why?" Su Qingyun panicked.

Had she lost all standing in Mo Yujun’s heart?

It was all that child’s fault! That wretched maid, with her delicate, pitiful demeanor—Su Qingyun burned with rage. Yet she couldn’t deny that Wen Nuan, once a maid, was strikingly beautiful.

Now a mother, she exuded a mature charm that made Su Qingyun look like a deranged woman in comparison.

When Mo Yujun emerged from the mansion, that was exactly the impression he got.

Wen Nuan, the mother of his child, was petite and tender. At the sight of him, she instinctively clutched his sleeve, shrinking behind him.

"My lord," she murmured softly.

Mo Yujun hadn’t felt this way in a long time. Day after day, he’d listened to his mother complain about Su Qingyun until even the sight of her irritated him.

"Very well. Since Mother Consort has summoned you, you may reside in... the Autumn Moon Pavilion. Steward, escort the secondary consort inside."

Secondary consort?

The title of Prince Qi’s secondary consort wasn’t worth much these days—no respectable family would send their daughter to his household now. Yet Su Qingyun fixated on it.

"You’re making her a secondary consort?" She pointed at Wen Nuan, tears streaming down her face like rain.

Before Mo Yujun could react, Su Qingyun dropped to her knees before him.

"Are you casting me aside? What have I done wrong? I’ll change, I swear—just don’t make her a consort!"

Mo Yujun kicked her away.

"All you do is cry. Every single day. It’s exhausting." Already embittered by his fall from grace, Mo Yujun had no patience left for Su Qingyun’s constant clashes with his mother.

The mansion had become a battleground with no peace to be found.

Leading Wen Nuan inside, Mo Yujun left Su Qingyun behind. Wen Nuan cast a cautious glance back, shaking her head at the woman’s evident instability.

This princess consort... really, what man would adore a weepy little girl?

With her family’s status, if Wen Nuan had been born the Prime Minister’s daughter, she wouldn’t have even needed to marry.

"My lord, this servant..." Wen Nuan began with a smile, but Mo Yujun cut her off.

"Don’t call yourself a servant. You’re a consort of this mansion now."

Blushing, Wen Nuan nodded. "Then... this humble wife will read you some stories later, to pass the time."

"Good." Mo Yujun finally smiled, his gloom lifting.

Watching their retreating figures, Su Qingyun sobbed even harder.

What had she done wrong?

She loved Mo Yujun so deeply. Hadn’t he once sworn she was the only one for him?

Everything had changed.

What Su Qingyun didn’t realize was that Wen Nuan’s arrival was just the beginning. With a child, she held an advantage Su Qingyun couldn’t match.

But even Mo Yujun was surprised—Wen Nuan learned quickly, mastering account books and shop management under the steward’s guidance, soon improving the mansion’s finances.

"My lord, though we’ve fallen from grace, if we manage these shops well, they’ll sustain us. Those nobles may scorn commerce, but this is how we survive," Wen Nuan explained earnestly.

"Indeed. You truly are clever and gentle," Mo Yujun admitted, genuinely impressed.

Si watched the heartwarming scene from the side.

That maid Little Wei is quite something—she knows how to charm a man. But then again...

The male lead is wearing a cuckold's horns, though he'll probably go to his grave never knowing that the child Wen Nuan carries isn't his.

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