The door was shoved open with brutal force.
The first thing that entered was a flash of dazzling crimson.
Sang Rourou stepped inside wearing an extravagant butterfly-patterned gown woven from priceless cloud brocade. The jewels adorning her hair chimed softly with every step.
She was dressed more lavishly than the bride herself.
Radiant.
Arrogant.
Untouchable.
Behind her came the Marquis Zhen Guo’s State, Sang Deben, clad in a dark gold silk robe. His stern face carried the authority of a man long accustomed to power.
The moment father and daughter crossed the threshold, the scolding they had prepared died in their throats.
The room was a disaster.
Half the canopy bed had collapsed.
Nanny Wang, the most overbearing servant in the entire marquis’s household, was sprawled across the shattered planks like a slaughtered pig.
The gaudy red bridal veil had been stuffed into her mouth.
Her eyes had rolled back so far only the whites remained visible.
Whether she was alive or dead was anyone’s guess.
“W-What happened here?”
Covering her mouth with an embroidered handkerchief, Sang Rourou let out an exaggerated gasp.
A flicker of gloating flashed through her beautifully made-up eyes before she quickly replaced it with an expression of fragile concern.
“Elder Sister! What have you done?”
Gathering her skirts carefully, she stepped around Nanny Wang as if avoiding something filthy.
Stopping three paces away from Sang Wanwan, her eyes instantly reddened.
Tears shimmered but refused to fall.
“Elder Sister, I know you’re upset, but you can’t take your anger out on Nanny Wang.”
“She’s Mother’s most trusted servant.”
Her voice was soft and delicate, dripping with grievance and accusation.
Sang Wanwan watched the performance coldly.
What acting.
If this woman had been born in modern times, she could have swept every award ceremony in the entertainment industry.
“Elder Sister, I know you’ve only recently returned from the countryside and don’t understand the customs of the capital.”
Sang Rourou dabbed at tears that didn’t exist.
Her voice remained gentle as she continued pouring fuel onto the fire.
“But marrying the Ninth Prince is a blessing people could only dream of.”
“Although… although His Highness’s mind is somewhat childlike, he is still a member of the imperial family.”
“Once you’re married, you’ll become a proper princess consort. You’ll enjoy endless wealth and honor.”
As she spoke, a trace of contempt flashed through her eyes.
Everyone knew the truth.
The Ninth Prince, Zongzheng Zhan, was a complete lunatic.
A fool.
Some said his intelligence wasn’t even comparable to that of a three-year-old child.
Others claimed he occasionally flew into violent rages and bit people.
There were even rumors that he ate raw meat.
As for the noble ladies previously betrothed to him?
Most had died mysteriously before the wedding could even take place.
A pit of death like that…
Only a country bumpkin dragged in from nowhere could possibly be suitable.
Sang Wanwan remained silent.
She simply stared at her.
The original owner had been completely deceived by this sweet, innocent facade.
She truly believed this younger sister cared about her.
And what had she received in return?
Her feelings exploited.
Her value squeezed dry.
And finally, she had been driven to suicide.
Seeing Sang Wanwan standing quietly with blood still dripping from her forehead, looking weak and pitiful, Sang Deben finally lost patience.
He frowned in disgust.
The look he gave his biological daughter was no different from the way one might look at trash.
“Enough!”
“Rourou, stop wasting your breath on this ungrateful wretch!”
He immediately pulled Sang Rourou behind him, as if afraid the smell of blood might somehow contaminate his precious foster daughter.
“Sang Wanwan, listen carefully!”
He pointed directly at her nose.
There wasn’t a trace of fatherly affection in his voice.
Only naked threats.
“You’re getting into that bridal sedan chair today.”
“If you won’t go willingly, we’ll tie you up and throw you in!”
“Our marquis’s household raised you all these years. It’s time for you to repay that debt!”
Sang Wanwan raised an eyebrow.
Then she laughed.
Raised her?
The original owner had spent sixteen years starving in a rundown farming household, eating scraps and enduring beatings.
Had the Marquis’s Manor spent a single copper coin on her?
The old bastard really had some nerve.
Seeing her laugh only made Sang Deben angrier.
“What are you laughing at?”
“You think you still have a choice?”
He snorted coldly.
Then he revealed what he clearly considered his trump card.
“You’ve always wanted your mother’s dowry, haven’t you?”
The moment those words left his mouth, memories surfaced from deep within Sang Wanwan’s mind.
The original owner’s mother had come from the wealthiest merchant family in all of Jiangnan.
When she married into the Marquis’s household, her dowry had shaken the entire capital.
Shops.
Farmland.
Estates.
Gold.
Silver.
Rare antiques.
The wealth was so vast that it could rival a nation’s treasury.
In fact, the luxurious lifestyle enjoyed by the Marquis’s household for more than a decade had been entirely supported by that dowry.
Unfortunately, the woman had died young.
And after her death, every bit of that fortune had fallen into the hands of Sang Deben and the current Marchioness.
When the original owner returned, she had timidly asked to see some of her mother’s belongings.
The response?
A vicious beating.
And now…
This shameless man was using her own inheritance to force her into a death trap.
Not only was he selling his daughter.
He was stealing her mother’s fortune.
And planning to use it later to give Sang Rourou a grand marriage.
The calculations behind that scheme were so loud she could practically hear the abacus clicking from outer space.
“As long as you obediently put on the wedding dress today and marry into the Ninth Prince’s Residence in Rourou’s place…”
Sang Deben narrowed his eyes.
“When you return for your post-wedding visit, I’ll hand over the treasury key.”
Then his expression darkened.
“But if you dare refuse…”
“You won’t get a single copper coin from that dowry.”
“Not only that, I’ll publicly announce that you’ve gone insane and send you to a nunnery outside the city to die.”
The threat was vicious.
Cruel.
Absolute.
He was leaving her no path to survive.
Had the original Sang Wanwan still been standing here, she probably would have collapsed to her knees and accepted her fate.
Unfortunately for him…
The woman before him was a world-class operative skilled in both martial arts and poison.
Silence filled the room.
Behind her father, Sang Rourou secretly smiled.
She knew it.
Mentioning the dowry would always work.
This ignorant country girl had never seen real wealth.
There was no way she would dare resist.
Look at her.
She was so frightened she couldn’t even speak.
Then—
Sang Wanwan moved.
She slowly raised her head.
Blood stained her face.
Yet instead of looking miserable, she appeared breathtakingly cold.
Beautiful.
Dangerous.
She didn’t cry.
Didn’t beg.
Didn’t argue.
She simply took a step forward.
Just one step.
Sang Deben mistook her calmness for surrender.
He lifted his chin proudly.
“What? Finally come to your senses? Then hurry up and apologize to Nanny Wang—”
SLAP!!!
The crack exploded through the room like thunder.
Crisp.
Violent.
Accompanied by the sharp whistle of air being torn apart.
Time seemed to freeze.
Sang Deben’s words stopped abruptly.
The slap landed squarely across his face.
Although it looked effortless, Sang Wanwan had infused it with the hidden force techniques of an ancient martial arts expert.
The impact was terrifying.
A full-grown man was literally lifted off his feet.
His overweight body spun halfway around like a top.
Then—
Crash!
He slammed into a display shelf beside the wall.
The expensive porcelain displayed upon it shattered instantly.
Fragments rained across the floor.
Sang Deben slid down the shelf and collapsed in a heap.
His eyes were unfocused.
His brain completely blank.
“Pfft!”
A mouthful of blood sprayed from his lips.
Mixed within it were two bloody molars.
“Father!”
Sang Rourou’s scream cracked halfway through.
She stared at the fallen marquis.
Then at Sang Wanwan.
Her eyes widened in horror.
Madness.
This woman had gone completely mad.
She had actually struck her father.
Not just struck him.
She had nearly beaten him to death.
Meanwhile, Sang Wanwan casually flexed her right wrist.
The impact had left it slightly numb.
Damn.
The old bastard’s face was surprisingly thick.
“Y-You unfilial monster!”
Clutching his rapidly swelling cheek, Sang Deben struggled to breathe.
Pain made stars dance before his eyes.
His finger trembled violently as he pointed at her.
“You dared hit your father?!”
“Rebellion! This is outright rebellion!”
Sang Wanwan looked down at him coldly.
“If I’m going to hit you, do I need to consult the calendar first?”
“You stole my mother’s dowry.”
“You sold my life.”
“And then you came here pretending to be some righteous elder.”
“If I don’t slap you, who should I slap?”
Ignoring his murderous glare, she turned toward Sang Rourou.
The moment their eyes met, Sang Rourou shuddered.
Those cold eyes contained no warmth whatsoever.
Only danger.
Instinctively, she stepped backward.
Too slow.
Sang Wanwan moved like a ghost.
In the blink of an eye, she was standing directly in front of her.
Her bloodstained left hand shot out.
Clamping around Sang Rourou’s slender neck.
“Ghk—!”
The scream died instantly.
Her grip was like iron.
Every finger pressed precisely against the woman’s throat.
A little more pressure…
And her windpipe would snap.
“My dear little sister.”
Sang Wanwan leaned closer.
The smile on her lips was beautiful.
Deadly.
Like a crimson flower blooming in hell.
“What was it you said earlier?”
“Marrying a fool who eats raw meat is a blessing earned over several lifetimes?”
Sang Rourou’s face turned bright red from lack of oxygen.
She clawed desperately at Sang Wanwan’s arm.
The hand gripping her throat didn’t budge an inch.
Fear.
Pure, overwhelming fear.
For the first time in her life, she felt death staring directly into her eyes.
She had no doubt.
Not even the slightest doubt.
This woman would really kill her.
“Since you think it’s such a wonderful blessing…”
A dangerous glint flashed through Sang Wanwan’s eyes.
Her free hand grabbed the collar of Sang Rourou’s priceless cloud-brocade gown.
Riiip!
The sound of silk tearing filled the room.
“Then take off these clothes.”
Her voice was calm.
Cold.
Absolute.
“You can enjoy that blessing yourself.”
“You’ll be the one getting married.”
Tears exploded from Sang Rourou’s eyes.
Her exquisite makeup dissolved into a mess.
She shook her head frantically.
No.
Absolutely not.
She had no intention of marrying that lunatic.
The man she wanted was the Crown Prince.
The future Emperor.
On the floor, Sang Deben finally recovered enough from the slap to understand what was happening.
Seeing his beloved foster daughter on the verge of passing out, he completely lost his mind.
“Sang Wanwan! Let her go!”
Using the wall for support, he staggered to his feet.
His face twisted like a demon’s.
If he didn’t kill this rebellious daughter today, how could he ever show his face again?
“Guards!”
His furious roar shook the room.
“Where are all of you useless idiots?!”
“House guards! Manor soldiers! Get in here!”
“Seize this insane little beast!”
“Break both her legs!”
Outside, hurried footsteps thundered down the corridor.
Dozens of burly guards carrying clubs rushed toward the courtyard.
Their expressions were fierce.
Violent.
They were only moments away from bursting through the door.
Sang Wanwan’s eyes turned cold.
She released Sang Rourou’s throat.
If these fools wanted to die, she’d gladly cripple them all.
But just as the confrontation was about to erupt—
BOOOOM!!!
A deafening explosion echoed from the front courtyard of the Marquis’s Manor.
The sound was so powerful that the ground itself trembled.
It was as if the estate’s massive bronze gates had been smashed apart by a siege ram.
Immediately afterward came another sound.
Heavy footsteps.
Countless footsteps.
Far more numerous than the manor’s guards.
Perfectly synchronized.
The metallic clash of armor rang through the estate like an unstoppable steel tide.
Then a sharp, piercing voice rang out across the entire Marquis’s Manor.
An imperial eunuch.
“Imperial decree has arrived!”
“The Imperial Guards are carrying out official orders!”
“Any who resist…”
“Will be executed on the spot!”