In early spring in the capital, the chill had yet to dissipate, and a layer of downy light snow covered the bluestone streets.
A carriage with a dark green curtain drove through the cold morning mist.
Inside, Madam Wu, wife of the Duke of Zhenguo, sighed. “Madam Wang had such a gentle disposition. Just the day before yesterday at the Xue family’s full-month banquet, I chatted with her for quite a while. Who would have thought she’d suddenly take such a drastic step?”
Madam Wang was the wife of Vice Minister Liu of the Ministry of Rites. Last night, she had hanged herself in her bedchamber.
“Perhaps she encountered some difficulty and, in a moment of despair, chose the path of no return,” Wen Jiao said softly.
“Their marriage was harmonious, and their children were clever and lovely. What kind of difficulty could drive her to throw away her life?” Madam Wu was puzzled, then began lamenting Madam Wang’s virtues again.
As they spoke, the carriage came to a stop.
Wen Jiao lifted the carriage curtain and saw they had arrived at the Liu residence. Long funeral banners and white lanterns hung at the gate, casting an air of bleak desolation.
The two alighted, and attendants immediately came forward to guide them.
The corridor pillars and trees along the passageway were wrapped in plain white mourning cloth, and paper lanterns before the steps glowed faintly, casting fragmented, pallid shadows on the ground.
Passing through a hanging-flower gate, they reached the mourning hall. The door stood open, and inside rested a pitch-black, gleaming coffin.
“Her Grace the Duchess, please enter.”
Inside the mourning hall, carved lattice windows were mostly obscured by plain white mourning curtains, leaving the light dim and murky.
The chief mourner, Vice Minister Liu, knelt on a rush cushion beside the coffin, his expression haggard and worn.
Wen Jiao followed Madam Wu to offer incense and pay respects. Vice Minister Liu returned a deep bow, his face steeped in grief.
Madam Wu offered a few words of consolation, then led Wen Jiao out of the mourning hall to a warm side chamber for tea and rest.
“Madam Wang was gentle and virtuous—one could not find a single fault in her. She was truly a good person. Why on earth would she be so short-sighted?” Madam Wu lamented.
Wen Jiao supported Madam Wu’s arm and comforted her. “The dead cannot be brought back to life. Lady Liu was a good person, and she will find a good place in the afterlife. Aunt, please don’t grieve too much.”
Madam Wu patted Wen Jiao’s hand. “Good child, your aunt is fine.”
The warm chamber was right next to the mourning hall. When the two entered, many female relatives were already seated inside—both married ladies and young misses.
Seeing Madam Wu arrive, all the women rose to greet her. After exchanging pleasantries, they sat back down, sighing over Madam Wang’s tragic end, dabbing at their tears and sobbing.
Wen Jiao found the room somewhat stifling. She lowered her voice to the maidservant beside Madam Wu and said, “Stay with my aunt. I’ll step outside for some air.”
Leaving the warm chamber, she hurried through the corridor and headed straight for the rear courtyard.
Ten years ago, Madam Wang’s father had served as a clerk in the Ministry of Justice. He had lost a crucial secret letter, leaving then-Minister of Works Chen Wenyuan with no avenue to appeal his case, and he died unjustly in prison.
Wen Jiao’s first priority upon arriving in the capital was to overturn Chen Wenyuan’s case. Unfortunately, before she could find an opportunity to approach Madam Wang, Madam Wang had already died.
Now that the Liu household was holding funeral rites, the servants were all gathered in the front courtyard to receive guests, leaving the rear courtyard largely empty. Wen Jiao wanted to search Madam Wang’s bedchamber for clues.
Though she had never visited the Liu residence, the house faced south with a three-courtyard layout, so she could roughly determine the direction.
But soon, Wen Jiao found herself facing two doors. As she hesitated, a hand suddenly tapped her shoulder.
Wen Jiao started in fright and turned around to see a man in an indigo-blue long robe.
The man had narrow, elongated eyes and a pallid complexion. He made an exaggerated bow and said in a theatrical tone, “This humble one is Liu Yuqing. I have the pleasure of meeting Miss Wen.”
Wen Jiao instinctively loathed the man before her. He put on the airs of a refined gentleman, but a truly courteous person would never presume to touch a woman’s shoulder from behind without warning.
Yet on her face bloomed a sweet smile, and her voice was filled with the innocent artlessness of a young girl. “I don’t know you.”
She was a young lady of sixteen or seventeen, dressed in a plain, close-fitting gown. Her figure was slender and graceful, her skin fairer than snow, her hair piled in soft, misty coils, and her apricot-shaped eyes were bright and lively.
But what was most captivating was her bearing—like sugar, like honey, sweet to the core.
Liu Yuqing was currently a recorder at the Court of Judicial Review. Clerks of his rank were a dime a dozen in the capital. To rise further, one needed the support of a powerful patron, yet he had been unable to find one willing to help him.
Until a few days ago, when he had seen Wen Jiao at the Duke of Zhenguo’s residence. A single glance from afar had stirred his lustful heart. He had spent silver to investigate her identity and learned that she was a distant relative of the duchess—an orphan.
Though she was only a distant relation, if he could marry her, he would gain a connection to the ducal household. Then why worry about lacking a ladder to success?
Besides, Wen Jiao was so beautiful that even if he only wanted her for her looks, it was worth the risk.
It was a deal with nothing to lose and everything to gain.
“This humble one is a recorder at the Court of Judicial Review. A few days ago, I went to the Duke’s residence to deliver documents to Vice Minister Song and caught a glimpse of you from afar. Since then, I have been utterly captivated, unable to restrain my feelings.” He raised his hands in a bow, his narrow eyes carefully studying Wen Jiao’s expression.
Wen Jiao covered her lips with her hand, shallow dimples appearing as she looked adorably naive. She asked, “You only saw me from a distance. You don’t even know my temperament. How could you be so captivated?”
“You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Surely your heart must be kind and your character noble. That is why I have lost my heart to you.” Liu Yuqing was now twenty-five and had spent years frequenting pleasure quarters, so honeyed lies came to his lips with ease.
Wen Jiao glanced at him sidelong. “You looked at me once, and you already know I’m kind and noble?”
Liu Yuqing stepped forward, speaking with reckless abandon: “Miss, you are a celestial being descended from heaven. If I, Liu, were fortunate enough to have you as my wife in this lifetime, I would treasure you, cherish you, and dote on you day and night. I humbly beg for your compassion.”
He reached out to grab Wen Jiao, but she evaded him, shooting him a glare and scolding, “You lecher!”
Seeing that she only chided him, Liu Yuqing’s heart leapt with joy, taking it as a sign that Wen Jiao harbored some affection for him. He hastily put on a look of remorse and regret:
“I lost control of my emotions for a moment and offended Miss Wen. I deserve to die! I deserve a beating!”
They had already lingered here for quite some time. Wen Jiao feared Madam Wu would come looking for her and only wished to shake off this lecher quickly, so she coaxed him, “I don’t even know who you are yet. Go back for now, and let me think it over before I give you an answer.”
The Duke Zhenguo’s mansion had strict rules; Liu Yuqing could never enter the inner courtyard. Today, he had lingered at the Liu residence for a long while just to wait for Wen Jiao. If he couldn’t secure her agreement to the marriage now, seeing her again in the future would be a thousand times harder.
How could Liu Yuqing be willing to let her go so easily?
He stepped forward to block Wen Jiao’s path, pestering her relentlessly: “Ever since I laid eyes on you, Miss, I have thought of you day and night. If I go back today, I fear I might lose my very life. I beg you to take pity on me—gift me one of your personal handkerchiefs to ease my pangs of longing.”
“I wouldn’t dare casually give you something so personal,” Wen Jiao said, her patience wearing thin. Her gaze turned cold as she bluntly exposed Liu Yuqing’s filthy intentions. “I’m afraid you’d go to my aunt tomorrow and accuse me of having an affair with you. Then I’d never be able to clear my name no matter what I said.”
“I treat you with complete sincerity, Miss. Why must you be so heartless?” Though Liu Yuqing was merely a minor official, he held himself in high regard. Having been humiliated by Wen Jiao, the smile at the corners of his lips stiffened, and a sinister, vicious glint churned in his eyes as he gradually backed her against the rockery.
“You’re currently lodging at the Duke’s mansion, but that’s no long-term solution. I’ve heard your parents are dead and you have no brothers. Don’t think about climbing high and marrying into a noble family—you’d only end up as a concubine. Better to marry me and be a proper wife. When I rise in rank and position, won’t you share in the glory?”
Liu Yuqing dared to be so bold and presumptuous because he was certain that Wen Jiao, being a young lady with thin skin, would be easy to manipulate and wouldn’t dare speak of this matter to anyone.
Wen Jiao showed no sign of alarm. She leaned against the rockery wall, twirling a lock of hair around her finger: “What you say does make some sense.”
Seeing her in such an alluring pose, Liu Yuqing felt his mouth go dry. He swore to heaven and uttered a stream of sickeningly sweet words.
Wen Jiao’s eyes shimmered with allure, and she seemed to be swayed.
She coyly held out her handkerchief, saying, “Here’s my handkerchief. Now let me go quickly—if someone sees us, my reputation will be ruined!”
Liu Yuqing’s heart leaped with joy. He hurriedly agreed and reached out to take it, but Wen Jiao let go, and the handkerchief drifted lazily into the lake beside the rockery.
Not far from the shore, but not close either.
Wen Jiao let out a little “Oh!” and scolded him in a sweet, reproachful voice, “How can you be so clumsy? Go fish my handkerchief out at once! I don’t have another one to give you!”
Blinded by lust, Liu Yuqing immediately bent over to retrieve the handkerchief. Just as it was within reach, Wen Jiao lifted her foot and gave him a light kick to the small of his back. With a cry of “Oof!”, he lost his balance and tumbled into the pond.
It was early spring, and the lake was deep and the water freezing cold. Liu Yuqing’s padded jacket soaked up the water and became dreadfully heavy. He struggled to get up, but the more he thrashed, the heavier he grew. He swallowed several mouthfuls of foul lake water, terrified and panicked, cold and frantic, his face pale as paper as he shouted, “Dear sister, please pull me out! I’m freezing to death!”
Wen Jiao merely covered her mouth and laughed, saying crisply, “How could I possibly pull you up? You just wait here—I’ll go find someone to rescue you.”
Liu Yuqing clasped his hands in supplication and begged repeatedly, hoping only that Wen Jiao would hurry back with help.
Wen Jiao agreed readily, telling him to wait patiently and not move.
But as she turned around, the innocent smile in her eyes vanished in an instant, replaced by nothing but deep disgust and venomous malice.
That disgusting, filthy man—it would be best if he rotted to death in that pond. She had no intention of finding anyone to save him.
Wen Jiao followed the small path and soon arrived at the main courtyard’s entrance. Just as she was about to step inside, the door to the inner chamber creaked open. She quickly ducked to the side to hide.
She saw several constables emerge from the room, taking positions on either side, the atmosphere solemn.
Then a man in a crimson official robe stepped out. He wore a jade belt at his waist and a black gauze cap on his head, his bearing tall and upright.
Wen Jiao recognized this man—
The heir of the Duke Zhenguo’s mansion, the current Vice Minister of the Court of Judicial Review, Song Langyu.
Through her connection to Madam Wu, Wen Jiao could barely claim the right to call him “Cousin.”
Wen Jiao had been staying at the Duke Zhenguo’s mansion for two months, and everyone in the household liked her—except this cousin, who had always remained cold and aloof. His eyes seemed capable of seeing straight through a person’s heart, which made her somewhat uneasy.
After all, she was a fake cousin who had stolen someone else’s identity. How could a thief not fear an officer of the law?
Wen Jiao’s heart pounded wildly. Song Langyu, standing under the eaves, seemed to sense something and actually turned his gaze in her direction!
She quickly lowered her head and hid behind a clump of withered branches, so frightened she forgot to breathe.
It was a long while before Wen Jiao dared to peek out again. Through the gaps in the dead branches, she looked over and saw that the courtyard was now empty—Song Langyu was gone, though the constables remained.
Wen Jiao couldn’t get in, so the trip had been a complete waste, and to make matters worse, she’d been harassed by Liu Yuqing along the way. She was burning with resentment.
On her way back, she passed by the rockery and heard what sounded like faint splashing in the lake, but she pretended not to notice.
If that filthy creature Liu Yuqing were dragged out of the water, there would be endless trouble. Better he just drown.
She quickened her pace and returned to the warm pavilion in the front courtyard, where the ladies were chatting idly. When Madam Wu saw Wen Jiao enter, she smiled and pulled her down to sit beside her, saying to the group:
“This is my niece, Wen Jiao. She’s newly arrived in the capital, and I hope you’ll all look after her in the days to come.”
She then introduced each lady and young miss to Wen Jiao one by one. Wen Jiao greeted them with a sweet smile and a proper bow. Seeing how lovely she was—delicate and charming, and related to the Duke of Zhenguo’s household—they naturally held her in high regard, pulling her aside to ask all sorts of questions with great warmth.
As they were chatting, a sudden commotion erupted in the courtyard.
Wen Jiao followed the ladies to the doorway to see what was happening. Several servants were frantically carrying a person toward them.
One servant shouted, “This young gentleman fell into the water! Someone fetch a quilt!”
The man was set down on the ground, trembling violently all over, his face blue and his lips purple—it was Liu Yuqing, who had been thoroughly soaked in the lake.
In his hand, he clutched a pale pink silk handkerchief, and he pointed it shakily at Wen Jiao, his teeth chattering: “Miss W-W-Wen, I f-fished your handkerchief out for you!”
A handkerchief was a woman’s intimate personal item, and Liu Yuqing’s words were ripe with suggestive implications.
As if that weren’t enough to stir up trouble, he added another line: “Since the young miss gave me her handkerchief, I’d risk my life to retrieve it… retrieve it!”
In an instant, everyone’s gaze fell squarely on Wen Jiao.