The broken zither string had been saved by the flute, but Shen Jin knew—that was only the appetizer. The real trap was yet to come.
Madam Zhou would never be satisfied with merely making her lose face. A snapped string was embarrassing, yes, but it was only a small humiliation, not a fatal blow. What Madam Zhou wanted was her utter ruin—her reputation destroyed, leaving no chance of recovery.
In the original story, the former Shen Jin had been set up during this very flower-viewing banquet. She was lured to a secluded pavilion and “accidentally” encountered a strange man, nearly losing her innocence. Though Su Qingyin eventually rescued her, the rumor—“Shen Jinshu nearly had a secret tryst”—spread across the capital, becoming the final straw that crushed her. So today, Madam Zhou would surely repeat the same trick.
Shen Jin sat quietly in the corner, her gaze sweeping the crowd without betraying emotion.
Madam Zhou was seated not far away, chatting with Marchioness Yongning, her smile dignified and maternal. Behind her stood Mama Zhao, holding a bowl of bird’s nest porridge fresh from the kitchen. But the porridge had not yet been delivered. Shen Jin noticed Madam Zhao’s eyes flicking toward her from time to time, as if waiting for the right moment.
Lin Wanqing was watching her too. Both of them were watching her.
Shen Jin lifted her teacup and took a slow sip. The fish was biting the hook. “Chun Tao,” she murmured.
Her maid leaned closer. “Yes, my lady?”
“No matter what happens later, don’t panic. Do exactly as we planned.”
Chun Tao’s hands trembled slightly, but she nodded. “I remember.”
Beside her, Xiao Heng appeared to be drinking tea, but his eyes never left Mama Zhao and Lin Wanqing. “That bowl of porridge,” he said softly, “she’s been holding it for the time it takes to drink two cups of tea. Any longer and it’ll go cold.”
Shen Jin glanced over. Indeed, Mama Zhao had been carrying it far too long without serving it. Not normal. The only explanation—this porridge wasn’t meant for Madam Zhou. It was meant for her.
Sure enough, Mama Zhao moved. She carried the bowl straight toward Shen Jin. “My lady,” Mama Zhao said with a bright smile, “Madam says today’s bird’s nest porridge turned out well, so she asked me to bring you a bowl.”
Shen Jin looked at the porridge—White, with a few goji berries floating on top—perfectly ordinary in appearance. But she knew something had been added.
“Thank you, Mama Zhao.” She accepted the bowl and set it on the table, untouched.
Mama Zhao didn’t leave. She stood there, smiling, watching. “My lady should drink it while it’s hot. Once it cools, it’ll taste fishy.” She was waiting—pressuring her to drink.
Shen Jin raised the bowl to her lips. Mama Zhao’s eyes locked on her.
Then Shen Jin set it down. “Too hot,” she said lightly. “I’ll wait until it cools.”
Mama Zhao’s smile froze for a heartbeat, then returned. “Then I’ll come back later to collect the bowl.” She left.
Shen Jin frowned at the porridge. Something was inside. A drug? A laxative? Something worse? She didn’t know. But she knew one thing—she must not drink it.
“Chun Tao,” she whispered.
The maid leaned in.
“Take this bowl back. Have a physician examine it.”
Chun Tao blinked. “Take it back?”
“Yes. We need to know what was added.”
Chun Tao nodded, covered the bowl with a cloth, and slipped it into the food box.
Xiao Heng watched, his lips curving faintly. “Smart,” he said.
“What?”
“Not drinking was the right choice. Something was definitely added.”
Shen Jin turned to him. “How do you know?”
“My men saw Mama Zhao stop at a corridor corner after leaving the kitchen. She pulled a paper packet from her sleeve and sprinkled it into the porridge.”
Shen Jin’s grip tightened on her teacup. As expected. “Do you know what it was?” she asked.
“No. But it wasn’t anything good.”
Shen Jin was silent for a moment, then smiled. “It doesn’t matter. I didn’t drink it. Her effort was wasted.”
Xiao Heng looked at her, a trace of tenderness in his eyes. “Shen Jinshu,” he said, “your stepmother won’t stop at this. If the porridge fails, she’ll have other tricks.”
“I know.” Shen Jin lifted her tea. “That’s why I’m waiting.”
The banquet continued.
Su Qingyin came over, sat beside her, and whispered, “Mama Zhao just went to the rock garden behind the flowers.”
Shen Jin’s nerves tightened. The rock garden? In the original story, that was where disaster struck. “What is she doing there?”
“I don’t know. I’ve sent a maid to watch.” Su Qingyin glanced at Xiao Heng, her eyes curious. “The heir is here too?”
“He was passing by,” Shen Jin said calmly.
Su Qingyin looked between them, then smiled. “A fortunate coincidence.”
Xiao Heng lifted his teacup, pretending not to hear.
Another half hour passed before Su Qingyin’s maid hurried over and whispered something in her ear.
Su Qingyin’s expression changed.
“What is it?” Shen Jin asked.
Su Qingyin lowered her voice. “Mama Zhao has arranged for a man in the pavilion behind the rock garden.”
Shen Jin’s fingers tightened slightly. It had begun. “What kind of man?”
“Unfamiliar. Dressed plainly, looks like someone hired from outside.” Su Qingyin’s tone was grave. “She’s searching for you now, trying to lure you toward the rock garden.”
Shen Jin drew a deep breath. Madam Zhou’s scheme was exactly the same as in the original story. First drug her. If that failed, trick her. If trickery failed, force her. No matter what, she had to be trapped in that pavilion with the man—even for the time it takes to drink a cup of tea. As long as someone saw, her reputation would be ruined.
“Sister Shen,” Su Qingyin grasped her hand, “what do you plan to do?”
Shen Jin thought for a moment, then smiled. “Turn the trap back on them.”
“How?”
Shen Jin leaned close and whispered a few words. Su Qingyin’s eyes lit up. “Your mind,” she laughed softly, “how did it grow so sharp?”
“Born this way.” Shen Jin rose. “Sister Su, help me. Have your maid pass a message to Mama Zhao—say I’m already at the rock garden admiring flowers.”
Su Qingyin nodded. “Leave it to me.”
Shen Jin turned to go, but Xiao Heng caught her wrist. “You’re going alone?”
“Not alone.” She glanced at his hand on her wrist. “Aren’t you here?”
Xiao Heng released her and stood. “I’ll go with you.”
“You don’t need to. Wait outside. Watch for my signal.”
“What signal?”
Shen Jin considered. “If I shout ‘Help,’ you rush in. If I don’t, stay put.”
Xiao Heng frowned. He disliked this arrangement. But he knew Shen Jinshu was not the sort to recklessly endanger herself. She had measure.
“Fine,” he said. “But promise me one thing.”
“What?”
“No matter what happens—don’t get hurt.”
Shen Jin looked at his earnest expression, and something inside her softened once again. “Alright,” she said softly. “I promise you.”
Shen Jin walked alone toward the rock garden at the back of the estate. On the way, she encountered Lin Wanqing.
Lin was standing beneath a peach tree, admiring the blossoms. When she saw Shen Jin approach, she smiled and called out, “Sister Shen, where are you going?”
“To the rock garden,” Shen Jin replied.
“Then let’s go together.” Lin came forward, linking arms with her. “I was just thinking of heading that way myself.”
Shen Jin glanced at her.
Lin Wanqing’s expression was natural—too natural, almost forced. She was part of Madam Zhou’s arrangement as well. Her role was either to lead Shen Jin toward the rock garden or to “happen” upon the scene at the crucial moment, bringing witnesses to what should never be seen.
“Of course,” Shen Jin said with a smile. “Let’s go together.”
The two walked side by side toward the rock garden.
The rock garden lay deep within the grounds, secluded, surrounded by bamboo. A pavilion was hidden behind the rocks, invisible from outside.
When they reached the garden, Shen Jin deliberately stopped, bending down to adjust her skirts.
“Go ahead, Sister Lin. My hem is dirty—I’ll catch up.”
Lin Wanqing hesitated, then nodded. “Don’t be long.” She continued forward.
Shen Jin crouched, watching from the corner of her eye as Lin Wanqing turned down the narrow path behind the rocks. Then came a muffled grunt. Followed by Lin Wanqing’s startled voice: “Who—who are you—let me go—mmph—” The sound was abruptly cut off.
Shen Jin rose, brushing the dust from her gown. From behind the bamboo, Xiao Heng stepped out, giving her a brief nod. They exchanged a look—no words needed.
Shen Jin drew a deep breath and walked toward the pavilion behind the rocks. Inside stood not one person, but two. A man in a gray short jacket, his back to her, hands busy with something. On the ground before him lay Lin Wanqing. Her hands and feet were bound, a cloth stuffed into her mouth. Her eyes were wide with terror. When she saw Shen Jin enter, Lin Wanqing shook her head frantically, muffled cries spilling out—pleading “go” or perhaps “save me.”
The man turned at the sound. Seeing Shen Jin, he froze, then grinned.
“So you’re Miss Shen?” His eyes roved over her, lewd and greedy. “Even prettier than I imagined.”
Shen Jin’s face remained impassive. “Who sent you?”
“That’s none of your concern.” He rubbed his hands together. “Someone paid me to ‘accidentally’ meet you here, and then—”
“And then what?”
“Then people see us together.” He chuckled. “Your reputation ruined, you’ll have no choice but to marry me.”
Shen Jin nearly laughed at the absurdity. “Marry you? Who are you?”
“I’m a butcher,” he said proudly. “But I’ve got a house and a shop. I can feed you well enough.”
Shen Jin inhaled deeply. Ah, Madam Zhou—your hired actor lacks skill.
“Do you know who I am?” she asked.
“Of course. The general’s daughter.”
“Then you know what happens if something befalls the general’s daughter? The general will investigate.”
The man’s grin faltered.
“You think you’re safe because you were paid. That someone will shield you. But have you considered—if things truly go wrong, the first one silenced will be you? Because only the dead keep secrets.”
His face drained of color.
On the ground, Lin Wanqing nodded furiously, as if to say, *She’s right.*
Shen Jin’s voice was calm, steady. “Now you have two choices. One: leave immediately, as if nothing happened today. Two: stay here, be discovered, be dragged off by the general’s men, be tortured until you confess who sent you. Choose wisely.”
The man hesitated. “I… if I leave, I lose the money.”
“Which matters more—money or your life?”
He wavered a moment longer, then stamped his foot and bolted.
Gone.
On the ground, Lin Wanqing cried out through her gag, as if pleading, “Come back, untie me!”
Shen Jin crouched down and pulled the cloth from her mouth.
Lin Wanqing gasped for breath, then glared at her. “Shen Jinshu! You—you did this on purpose!”
“On purpose?”
“You deliberately let me go first, deliberately let him catch me, deliberately—”
“So what if I did?” Shen Jin cut her off. “Lin Wanqing, you conspired with Madam Zhou to harm me. Did you think I wouldn’t know?”
Lin Wanqing’s face went pale. “You… how do you know?”
“I know everything.” Shen Jin rose, looking down at her. “Now you’re in my hands. Tell me—if I call people here and they see you tied up, what will they think?”
Lin Wanqing’s eyes widened further. “You—you can’t—it was you who trapped me—”
“Who saw that?” Shen Jin smiled. “Only you, me, and the man who just ran off. You say I harmed you—do you have proof?”
Lin Wanqing opened her mouth, but no words came.
Shen Jin crouched again, leaning close, her voice low. “Sister Lin, I’ll give you a chance. When you return, keep your distance from Madam Zhou. She is not your ally—she’s using you. Today you help her, tomorrow she’ll discard you. Do you think that’s worth it?”
Lin Wanqing bit her lip, silent.
Shen Jin stood and turned to leave.
“Shen Jinshu!” Lin Wanqing called after her.
She looked back.
“Why… why didn’t you summon people? Why not ruin me completely?”
Shen Jin thought for a moment. “Because you’re not the mastermind. You’re being used.”
Lin Wanqing’s tears spilled over.
Shen Jin walked away.
Outside the rock garden, Xiao Heng was waiting behind the bamboo. “Handled?” he asked.
“Mm.”
“And the man?”
“He ran.”
“And Lin Wanqing?”
“She’s in the pavilion. Have your men release her.”
Xiao Heng nodded, signaling to the hidden guards.
Shen Jin walked on, then suddenly stopped. “Xiao Heng.”
“Yes?”
“Thank you.”
He looked at her and smiled. “That’s the second time you’ve thanked me today.”
“Because you’ve helped me twice today.”
“Then I’ll keep count,” he said, falling into step beside her. “When you’ve saved up enough, you can repay me all at once.”
Shen Jin glanced at him. “Repay you with what?”
Xiao Heng thought seriously. “Haven’t decided yet. For now, you just owe me.”
Shen Jin was speechless. This man—how does he turn everything into a debt?
They walked side by side along the garden path, sunlight filtering through the leaves, dappling their shoulders. Behind them, Chun Tao followed, watching their backs with unease. The heir’s hand seemed awfully close to her lady’s. Close enough to touch at any moment.
Chun Tao wanted to warn her mistress, but didn’t dare. Forget it—pretend she hadn’t seen.
Back at the Peony Pavilion, Shen Jin had barely sat down when Madam Zhou approached. “Jinshu, where have you been? I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”
Shen Jin looked at her concerned face and smiled. “I went to the rock garden to admire the flowers. Madam, the scenery there is lovely—you should see it yourself.”
Madam Zhou’s expression froze for an instant. She saw Lin Wanqing behind Shen Jin—pale, eyes swollen from crying. Her heart sank. Failed?
“Madam,” Shen Jin lifted her teacup and sipped slowly, “today’s bird’s nest porridge was delicious. Thank you.”
Madam Zhou’s hand clenched.
She hadn’t drunk it. The rock garden plan had failed too. This stepdaughter was no longer the pliant, helpless girl she once was.
“As long as you liked it,” Madam Zhou forced a smile. “Next time I’ll have the kitchen make more.”
“No need.” Shen Jin set down her cup. “From now on, I’ll make it myself.”
Madam Zhou met her calm gaze and felt a chill down her spine. Those eyes no longer held resentment or frustration—only clarity. She knew everything.
Madam Zhou turned and left.
Shen Jin watched her back, lips curving. “Chun Tao.”
“Yes, my lady.”
“When we return, have a physician examine that porridge. And then—”
“And then?”
“Send a bowl to my father.”
Chun Tao blinked, then understood. “My lady is wise!”
Shen Jin leaned back in her chair, exhaling. Today’s battle was won. But the war had only just begun.