Feng Xing interrogated the man for only half a day before he confessed.
It turned out Wen Qing had given him silver, ordering him to ruin Wen Ning.
At first, the man refused, complaining that Wen Qing’s payment was too little. But Wen Qing told him: Wen Ning’s husband’s family was very wealthy, and she herself was just a concubine-born daughter who had never seen much of the world. Once he succeeded, Wen Ning would surely pay him off to keep quiet. Besides, Wen Ning’s looks and figure were first-rate.
The man was a gambler and idler by nature—after hearing this, he hesitated no longer.
Feng Xing reported the results to Shen Zhou, and that very day, the man was thrown into prison.
Because the matter touched Wen Ning’s reputation, Shen Zhou did not reveal the exact crime, only ordered that the prisoner be “well taken care of.”
Feng Xing thought to himself: most likely, this man would never leave prison alive.
Shen Zhou told Wen Ning the result.
Wen Ning was stunned—she had not expected such an outcome. Since it was so, she could not be blamed for striking back. But how had Wen Qing known her whereabouts? Clearly, this was not simple.
Wen Ning pondered, then summoned Xiao Tao, instructing her to have people keep close watch on Liu’er and Ying’er.
Though those two were her dowry maids, their contracts were held by Madam Xu. Wen Ning did not believe they were entirely loyal to her.
As expected, Xiao Tao sent people to follow the two maids. They discovered that Ying’er was proper and diligent, spending her days in the outer courtyard sweeping and cleaning. Her hands were quick, and she was well-liked.
Liu’er, however, was different. She was always lazy with her work, disobedient, and often talked back to the supervising matrons. Since she was the Heir’s wife’s dowry maid, the matrons dared not punish her too harshly. But this girl loved to pry into gossip every day. Moreover, Xiao Tao found that every so often, Liu’er would slip away to the alleys of West Lane. That was where Song Yan and Wen Qing lived.
Hearing this, Wen Ning could basically confirm that Liu’er was the one who had betrayed her.
Wen Qing could not bear to see her living well? Then Wen Ning would send them a “gift” in return.
Coincidentally, Liu’er had a rest day coming up. As usual, she registered at the gatehouse. The gatekeeper glanced at her and flattered: “Liu’er is truly beautiful. Outsiders wouldn’t know—you look just like a lady from a noble household out for leisure!”
“Smooth talker,” Liu’er scolded, though she still pulled a few copper coins from her sleeve to give him. These gatekeepers were of little consequence, but keeping them sweet meant they would not trouble her when she came and went.
Liu’er looked down at her hands. Though she carefully applied ointment every day, her palms were still calloused from work—not like Wen Ning’s hands. She had served Wen Ning once, and that skin was truly like congealed cream, white and delicate—especially those hands—slender, graceful, soft as if boneless.
Indeed, Duchess Xu doted on Wen Ning greatly, arranging rose petals and milk for her baths every day. *If only she had Wen Ning’s fortune—how wonderful that would be!*
Liu’er resented Wen Ning deeply. Clearly, Wen Ning basked in Duchess Xu’s favor, yet she and Ying’er, as Wen Ning’s dowry maids, had never been assigned to serve the Heir.
Liu’er thought of Shen Zhou’s handsome, distinguished face, his cold and noble bearing, and the boundless wealth of the Duke’s household. Her hatred toward Wen Ning grew even stronger. She secretly ground her teeth. Wen Ning had once been nothing more than a concubine-born daughter—how could she now enjoy such blessings? If she lost her chastity, would Duchess Xu still cherish her so?
And if Wen Ning were divorced, then Liu’er’s chance would come. The more she thought, the more excited she became, quickening her steps. Absorbed in her schemes, she failed to notice that a shadow had been quietly following her all along.
Liu’er arrived at the Song residence. By chance, Wen Qing and Madam Song had gone out to offer incense, leaving only Song Yan at home, reading.
Liu’er had seen Song Yan before. Though he was a scholar of decent appearance, he was far inferior to Shen Zhou. She wondered what madness had possessed Wen Qing to exchange pearls for fish eyes.
Since she was already here, Liu’er decided to step inside and greet Song Yan before leaving. But as soon as she entered, a rich, heady fragrance filled the air. Her mind grew hazy in an instant. Before she could react, she was pulled into a broad, solid embrace.
“Young Master…” Liu’er, drugged, spoke in a voice dripping with seductive charm.
Song Yan glanced at the girl in his arms. His blood surged, and without a word of explanation, he flipped her beneath him.
Meanwhile, Wen Ning followed her plan, arriving at the temple at the calculated hour to “accidentally” encounter Wen Qing.
In her previous life, before Song Yan’s examinations, Madam Song often summoned her to accompany them to burn incense.
Madam Song was devout, and each time she dragged Wen Ning from the foot of the mountain to kneel and bow all the way up. Wen Ning had been frail, but under such exertion, she grew sturdier.
Of course, sturdier body aside, her face grew darker from the sun, and with the toil, within a single year, Wen Ning transformed from a fair, delicate young girl into a sallow, haggard woman.
Thinking back now, Wen Ning shuddered. This time, she had Xiao Tao prepare a parasol and cooling flower tea, and only then did she set out leisurely.
Sure enough, at the temple steps, she encountered Wen Qing, drenched in sweat, her forehead bruised from kowtowing.
“It’s younger sister!” Wen Ning called softly.
Wen Qing and Madam Song turned their heads.
Before them stood a smiling young lady in a dress of clear aqua-green, her skin luminous and fair. Beside her, one maid held a parasol, another fanned her with cool breezes. Though it was the height of summer, not a bead of sweat showed on Wen Ning’s face—only her radiant features, smiling sweetly.
The contrast left Wen Qing humiliated. She snapped irritably: “What are you doing here?”
Wen Ning still spoke with good temper: “I came to inspect the estate. Passing by here, I happened to see younger sister, so I thought I’d greet you.”
Wen Qing remembered—in her last lifetime, Duchess Xu had also given her an estate nearby. So Wen Ning must be here to collect rent.
*How wonderful to have money,* Wen Qing thought bitterly. She and her mother-in-law had walked to the temple at dawn to save silver, not even buying a few coins’ worth of cooling tea, since her mother-in-law insisted there would be tea at the temple, not like Wen Ning, who rode in a sedan chair carried by servants, and even for these few steps had attendants to serve her.
*So pampered!*
At first, Wen Qing felt indignant at Wen Ning’s display. But then she thought: even if Wen Ning had money now, what of it? Shen Zhou was a reckless man—he did not truly love Wen Ning. When he eventually eloped with his mistress, Wen Ning would be left a living widow. Unlike herself, who lay each night beside Song Yan, her “Yan Lang,” who was always ardent and passionate with her.