For half a month straight, Ling Zhenli studied court etiquette diligently, putting on the appearance of a well-behaved, sensible, gentle, and virtuous noble young lady in front of the Chancellor and his wife.
When she rose in the mornings to dress and groom herself, Ling Zhenli was still half asleep, eyes closed as she allowed the maids to attend to her.
Xue Run originally had three personal maids: Yingchun, Taoxia, and Tangqiu.
All three had grown up alongside Xue Yingyue since childhood. They were utterly loyal. Xue Yingyue knew exactly what kind of man her father was, and she also knew that after she left, in order to preserve the Xue family’s honor, he would certainly claim that she had died, then take in an adopted daughter to marry in her stead.
Or he might simply find someone to replace her altogether. For this reason, Xue Yingyue had specifically instructed them to be just as loyal to the next “Xue Yingyue” as they had been to her.
If the Chancellor did not intend to tell the next person the truth that she was still alive, then the three of them must never reveal it either. She feared that if one day that person ascended to the position of Empress and learned that she was still alive, she might worry that Xue Yingyue would threaten her status and would seek her out and kill her to eliminate future trouble.
Thus, the three maids guarded the secret of Xue Yingyue’s survival with their lives. Aside from that, they treated Ling Zhenli exceedingly well.
After finishing her grooming and paying her respects to the Chancellor and his wife, she returned to her room to continue practicing etiquette.
When the Chancellor’s wife praised her yesterday for playing the pipa well, she lowered her eyes and smiled faintly, her fingertips pressing subtly into her palm.
Playing the pipa was something her mother had taught her. Though she was now the Chancellor’s wife’s daughter in name, the Chancellor’s wife could hardly be considered a mother.
During these past half a month, Xue Haoting had repeatedly entered her boudoir and violated her. She had tried to probe the Chancellor’s wife indirectly, but the disgust that flickered in the woman’s eyes, and the hand that shoved her away when she begged, all told Ling Zhenli that the Chancellor’s wife likely already knew what Xue Haoting did to her in her chambers—she simply chose to turn a blind eye.
Thus, by day, she practiced her walking posture, moving with light, lotus-like steps, striving to ensure her skirts did not stir the dust.
Her speaking tone had to be soft and sweet, her voice clear, the ending slightly lifted, carrying the unique pride of an aristocratic young lady.
Even while eating, she had to maintain elegance—no more than three bites per dish, and no sound when sipping soup.
When the Chancellor and his wife were satisfied, they would smile at her, yet what they looked at through her face was their runaway daughter, Xue Yingyue.
At night, Xue Haoting would dismiss all the servants and push the door open. All the false harmony of the daytime became a cruel joke.
As usual, he did not light a lamp, approaching her only by the thin moonlight filtering through the window.
Now, merely hearing his voice made Ling Zhenli tremble all over, her body stiff.
Xue Haoting walked to the bed and grabbed the Ling Zhenli who was pretending to sleep, without a shred of mercy. His fingers were ice-cold as he pinched her chin and forced her to raise her head.
“Smile for me,” he said in a low voice.
To prevent further abuse, Ling Zhenli had no choice but to curve her lips into a smile, shallow dimples forming, her eyes lowered slightly—imitating the expression Xue Haoting claimed Xue Yingyue habitually wore.
Xue Haoting stared at her, his gaze dark and heavy. After a long while, he let out a scornful laugh. “So much time has passed, and you still can’t learn.”
The bed curtains fell. As he untied her sash, his movements were unhurried, as though dismantling an object that had long belonged to him. Ling Zhenli closed her eyes, counting the instances of pain again and again.
When he pressed over her once more, his hot breath branding her ear, he repeated his humiliation: “A counterfeit will always be a counterfeit. It can never compare to the original.”
Her fingers dug into the brocade quilt as she forced her tears back into her heart. To reduce the scolding and abuse, she repeatedly agreed with him, yet somehow she still angered Xue Haoting, who then tormented her even more ruthlessly.
Outside the window, rain pattered steadily, just like the tears flowing in Ling Zhenli’s heart. The night stretched on endlessly, and she did not know how she would ever endure it.
Rainwater dripped from the blue-gray eaves. Ling Zhenli had been kneeling on the stone slabs outside Xue Wenmian’s study for a full hour.
The cold was so biting it felt as though she had returned to the day her home was confiscated. Her knees had long since gone numb. Her thin garments were soaked through by splashing rain, yet she did not dare move even a fraction.
After another half stick of incense passed, the stern voice from inside the study finally summoned her in.
Having knelt for so long in the cold rain, Ling Zhenli struggled to stand. Her legs were completely numb and unresponsive.
Trembling, she walked forward and pushed open the wooden door to the study.
Inside, sandalwood incense lingered in the air. Xue Wenmian stood by the window with his back to her, his silhouette dark and oppressive, making Ling Zhenli instinctively fearful.
“Do you know why I punished you to kneel?” Xue Wenmian did not turn around.
Ling Zhenli lowered her head, wet hair clinging to her pale cheeks. “I rested too little last night and lacked energy. That’s why the book kept slipping while practicing walking this morning… I slept late last night because Young Master Che… spoke with me for a long time about Sister Run. I kept thinking about what kind of person Sister Run was and how I should learn to be like her, and that’s why I couldn’t fall asleep.”
What Xue Haoting did whenever he went to Ling Zhenli’s quarters—no father understood his son better than Xue Wenmian. He could more or less guess. But Xue Haoting was his most prized son, the future head of the Xue family. There could be no blemish. Thus, he ensured that everyone kept silent about it, including Ling Zhenli.
“Haoting’s behavior is outrageous and disrupted your rest. I will discipline him myself.” Xue Wenmian suddenly turned around, his gaze sharp as a blade. “But do you know that in just one and a half months, you will be married to the Crown Prince? Your every move must be flawless. Otherwise, not only will you fail to avenge your parents, but the entire Chancellor’s residence will be dragged down with you.”
Ling Zhenli slowly raised her head, meeting those unfathomably deep eyes.
After leaving the study, she was placed under confinement.
If she failed to practice well, she was not allowed to eat—nor even drink water.
Ling Zhenli could not help wondering: was this how one treated a noble young lady, or a prisoner? Was she the only one treated this way, or had Xue Yingyue also endured the same?
“All young ladies go through this. The Chancellor is strict. The young lady was not only confined, she was even beaten.”
“Yes. The young lady was actually very pitiful. In the entire residence, only the three of us could talk to her. The master wouldn’t even allow the servants outside this courtyard to meet her.”
“The young lady’s weak health was mostly caused by being stifled like this. In the end, she became depressed and passed away.”
Hearing these half-true, half-false words, Ling Zhenli felt a surge of pity for Xue Yingyue.
Xue Yingyue had lived sixteen years in such constant anxiety. Her suffering and resentment vanished entirely with her death.
At least Ling Zhenli was still alive. At least she still had a chance for revenge.
…
Everything has its drawbacks and benefits. Although the learning was grueling, since Xue Haoting could not see her, Ling Zhenli no longer had to sleep every night in fear.
Sleeping peacefully naturally improved her learning efficiency. In less than half a month, her etiquette and speech had become impeccable.
When she stood to pay her respects to the Chancellor and his wife each morning, anyone who saw her would praise her as peerlessly outstanding.
The Chancellor’s wife was very satisfied and immediately decided to host a banquet for Ling Zhenli. In April, Chang’an was in full bloom with peonies. She would invite the noble ladies of the capital to admire the flowers in the Chancellor’s Jinyun Garden, and at the same time allow Ling Zhenli to make an appearance, introducing her to the aristocracy as the future Crown Princess.
Before dawn, while Chang’an was still shrouded in morning mist, Ling Zhenli rose to prepare herself.
The flower-viewing banquet hosted by the Chancellor’s residence invited not only noble ladies of the capital but also young men from prominent families. According to the Chancellor’s wife’s instructions, Ling Zhenli would appear today under the identity of Xue Run. She had to be dressed in utmost splendor to outshine everyone else.
Ling Zhenli knelt before the bronze mirror as the grooming matron gathered her dark hair into a high bun and adorned it with ornaments.
The matron opened a white jade box, took a bit of rouge on her fingertip, and spread it over Ling Zhenli’s lips, blooming into a peach-blossom hue of early spring.
“You are already beautiful, miss. With today’s makeup, even the peonies at the banquet will pale in comparison.”
“With such beauty, once His Highness the Crown Prince sees you, he will surely be pleased.”
“Such sweet talk.”
Having been enslaved by Xue Haoting for so long, Ling Zhenli longed even more for the wedding day to arrive quickly. She wanted to marry the Crown Prince as soon as possible and escape the sea of suffering that was the Chancellor’s residence.
Listening to the maids’ praise, Ling Zhenli looked at herself in the mirror—graceful and slender, bright eyes full of life, exquisitely made up.
Indeed, there was no reason to worry that the Crown Prince would not like her in the future.
That day, the gates of the Chancellor’s residence were opened early. Servants in neat blue garments stood respectfully at the entrance to welcome guests.
A canopy was set up in the center of the garden, with light gauze curtains hanging all around, blocking the wind without hindering the view of the flowers.
Just after the hour of Si, distinguished guests began to arrive.
The first to arrive was Lu Xin, the daughter of Minister Lu. She wore a lotus-colored gauze dress, with mostly silver and jade accessories—simple yet proper.
Next came the female relatives from the Cui family, the Chancellor’s wife’s natal family. Several young ladies arrived together and paid their respects to their aunt, Cui Yueyong.
…
There were many distinguished guests today. Even Xiao Yuzhen, the County Princess of Yongtai, daughter of the Grand Princess of Wuyang—who had always been politically opposed to the Chancellor—came. From the moment she stepped down from her sedan chair, her gaze searched continuously for Xue Haoting, almost failing to notice the other noble ladies greeting her.
Guided by maids, everyone took their seats and exchanged pleasantries.
The laughter was not loud, yet it enlivened the entire garden. Occasionally, musicians played instruments, the melody weaving through the conversation and adding a sense of leisure.
Noble ladies gathered in small groups, admiring flowers or chatting, their silver-bell laughter ringing from time to time.
Young gentlemen stayed a bit farther away, maintaining appropriate distance while admiring the garden, occasionally casting glances in this direction.
Maids moved lightly among them with trays of refreshments, making not a single sound.
Cui Yueyong sat in the main seat, smiling as she surveyed the guests.
“Today is merely for enjoying the flowers. There is no need for formalities,” she said, raising her hand. The maids then served the dishes.
Seated in the foremost position among the female guests to the east, County Princess Yongtai had barely eaten any pastries, her attention entirely focused on finding Xue Haoting. Still, she did not forget her mother’s instructions to observe what kind of person the Chancellor’s daughter was.
Thus, she spoke up: “Greetings, Madam. I heard that Sister Xue would also attend today’s banquet. I wished to admire her beauty, yet she has not appeared. Is she unwell?”
As soon as these words were spoken, the noble ladies began whispering among themselves. None of them had ever seen this legitimate daughter of the Chancellor’s residence. Moreover, she was the designated Crown Princess and would very likely become the future Empress. Who would not want to glimpse the future Empress’s countenance?
“Thank you for your concern, County Princess. My daughter is feeling slightly unwell today and will arrive a bit later. I ask for your understanding,” Cui Yueyong replied, even inclining her body slightly.
Hearing this, Xiao Yuzhen did not press further and instead took a sip of wine.
When noble ladies gathered, discussions of feminine interests were inevitable. A young lady from the Qi State Duke’s household took the lead.
“Will we have a chance to see Young Master Xie today?”
“I wonder whether Young Master Xie will come. I truly wish to exchange a few words with him.”
“I heard Young Master Xie prefers elegance. I deliberately wore pale celadon paired with stone blue today.”
As they all spoke of Xie Daojian, the adopted son of General Chen, Xiao Yuzhen could not stand letting his limelight overshadow Xue Haoting’s. She retorted, “Young Master Xie is indeed handsome, but in my view, Young Master Xue is truly exceptional. I hope to see him again.”
“The last time I saw Young Master Xue was at the Dowager Lady of Pingchang Marquis’s birthday banquet…”
“Such a fine young man. Whoever marries him as his wife will be truly blessed.”
Listening as more and more people discussed Xue Haoting, Xiao Yuzhen grew unbearably jealous. Using the excuse of changing clothes, she left her seat.
Just as Xiao Yuzhen departed, Ling Zhenli arrived.
A stir arose first at the garden entrance. Then, surrounded by a retinue of maids, Ling Zhenli made her appearance.
In an instant, the laughter throughout the garden came to an abrupt halt.
All eyes turned involuntarily toward the late-arriving beauty. Even the maids moving among the guests stopped in their tracks.
Ling Zhenli wore a broad-sleeved blue enamel robe embroidered with gold-thread cloud patterns and dotted with tiny pearls that shimmered softly in the sunlight. An orange-red bandeau adorned with bright pearl pendants accentuated her snow-white skin. Her gardenia-yellow skirt was embroidered with a hundred butterflies flitting among flowers in silver thread; with each step she took, the butterflies seemed to rise and dance as if alive.
The color combination was neither overly flamboyant nor lacking in noble elegance.
When she came closer, everyone finally saw her features clearly.
A pair of peach-blossom eyes tilted slightly upward, her gaze like spring water; her nose bridge was high yet not sharp; a light touch of powder adorned her cheeks; her lips were cherry-red, and a hint of a smile curved at the corners of her mouth.