The deathly silence of the Side Courtyard was split apart by the glaring midday sun.
Sunlight filtered through the broken window lattice, casting several pale patches of light across the icy stone floor while dust drifted soundlessly through the beams.
Qin Shu sat in the creaking wooden chair, her back unnaturally straight, like a taut string stretched to its breaking point.
The bowl of rice porridge on the table, so thin that it reflected a person’s face, had long gone cold.
Floating Cloud stood nearby, twisting the corner of her clothes with both hands. Her lips had turned pale from how tightly she pressed them together.
“Young Miss,” Floating Cloud said, her voice trembling as she glanced toward the courtyard gate. “Steward Li… sent someone again. He said… the Governor ordered that everyone in the mansion… must go to the Front Courtyard… to congratulate the new Concubine.”
“Everyone in the mansion?”
Qin Shu’s fingertips slowly traced the rough tabletop, leaving faint white marks behind.
Her voice was calm.
Yet it resembled the frozen surface of a lake, beneath which turbulent currents surged.
Xu Feng’s mocking glance beneath last night’s fireworks…
Qin Yan’s dazzling scarlet wedding dress…
And those words—
“The treasure closest to his heart.”
They scorched her heart again and again like red-hot branding irons.
For five years she had been imprisoned, forgotten like a rat living in a filthy gutter.
Now, the words “everyone in the mansion” were nothing more than Xu Feng’s way of forcing her to witness her own sister replacing her and taking the place that should have been hers.
A cold fury, tainted with the scent of blood, slowly seeped from the depths of her bones, gradually overwhelming her humiliation and fear.
“I’m going.”
She spoke only two words.
Quiet.
But unmistakably clear.
Floating Cloud’s head snapped upward, her eyes filled with alarm.
“Young Miss! They…”
“Find me some clothes.”
Qin Shu interrupted her as she stood.
Her movements were somewhat stiff. The wrenching retching fit from the previous night had seemingly drained every ounce of strength from her body.
Yet that faint, icy light hidden deep within her eyes still refused to go out.
She walked to the old camphorwood chest in the corner and lifted its lid.
Inside were only a few faded garments covered with patches, carrying the faint scent of mildew and soapberries.
She did not bother choosing.
She simply picked up the one lying on top—
A half-worn grayish-blue cross-collared jacket.
The cuffs had become frayed, and its dull color looked as though it had been buried beneath years of dust.
It was the finest piece of clothing she owned.
The one she had worn when she first entered this place five years ago.
Tears welled up in Floating Cloud’s eyes.
“Young Miss… you can’t go dressed like this… Everyone over there…”
“I can.”
Qin Shu’s voice remained completely flat as she began unfastening the buttons of the even shabbier cotton jacket she was wearing.
The grayish-blue jacket hung loosely on her frail frame, making her appear even thinner.
Her complexion was deathly pale, utterly devoid of vitality.
She walked toward the tarnished bronze mirror.
The reflection was blurred.
Only her eyes remained startlingly clear.
The fear and numbness they had once held had been forcibly buried.
In their place was an almost hollow tranquility.
Beneath that calmness burned the cold flame ignited the previous night—a flame not yet fully formed.
She dipped her fingertips into the cold tea left on the table and carefully smoothed the loose strands of hair beside her temples behind her ears.
Every movement was meticulous.
Like someone calmly preparing to walk toward an execution she knew she could never survive.
She had not set foot in the corridor leading to the Governor’s Mansion’s Front Courtyard for five years.
The vermilion paint had peeled from the pillars.
Dust coated the elaborately carved beams, though traces of their former magnificence remained visible.
The air still carried the sulfurous scent of last night’s fireworks, mixed with the heavy smells of wine, perfume, cosmetics, and greasy food until it became almost suffocating.
The sounds of traditional instruments drifted through layers of flowers and trees.
Interwoven with them came the unrestrained laughter, flirtation, and clinking wine cups of countless guests.
Each sound felt like a fine needle stabbing relentlessly into Qin Shu’s ears.
Floating Cloud stayed half a step behind her, her entire body tense as she nervously scanned their surroundings.
Several servant girls carrying trays hurried past.
The moment they noticed Qin Shu’s appearance, they froze briefly before exchanging openly contemptuous glances.
They quickly lowered their voices and hurried away.
“Who is that? Why is she dressed like that?”
“Shh! Keep your voice down! I heard she’s… the one from the Side Courtyard…”
“What? Governor Xu’s Legal Wife? Why is she out here? What terrible luck…”
Their voices were neither loud nor quiet.
Just enough for Qin Shu to hear every word.
She neither slowed her pace nor turned her head.
Only the line of her jaw tightened slightly, while the fingers hanging at her side curled almost imperceptibly.
The closer they came to the main hall, the louder the celebration became.
The doors stood wide open.
Warm air, carrying the rich aromas of wine and roasted delicacies, poured out toward them.
Crystal chandeliers scattered dazzling light throughout the hall, illuminating guests dressed in magnificent clothing.
The men wore elegant suits or long traditional robes.
The women were adorned in brilliant qipaos and glittering jewelry.
The enormous round banquet tables overflowed with exquisite delicacies.
Amid constant toasts and laughter, every face radiated either practiced hospitality or drunken merriment.
The moment Qin Shu appeared at the brightly lit entrance, it was like a drop of ink falling into boiling oil.
Instantly, the conversations at the nearest tables came to an abrupt stop.
Dozens of eyes turned toward her in perfect unison.
Shock.
Curiosity.
Contempt.
Every gaze settled upon the worn grayish-blue jacket that looked painfully out of place amid the hall’s overwhelming luxury.
For a single moment…
The entire hall seemed frozen.
Only the distant music continued playing, blissfully unaware.
Qin Shu halted at the threshold.
The crystal chandeliers stabbed painfully into her eyes.
Her stomach churned violently.
Forcing herself to raise her head, she looked past the sea of guests and fixed her gaze upon the seat of honor.
Xu Feng lounged lazily in a grand armchair.
He wore an immaculate dark green military uniform, the insignia on his shoulders polished until they gleamed.
One arm rested casually on the chair’s armrest while a cigar rested between his fingers.
Thin wisps of smoke blurred the sharp outline of his handsome face.
Beside him sat Qin Yan.
She wore a brand-new peach-colored brocade qipao embroidered with enormous peonies.
Her face glowed with happiness.
Holding a peeled grape delicately between her fingers, she leaned toward Xu Feng, pretending to feed it into his mouth.
Every glance she cast was overflowing with smug satisfaction.
Qin Shu’s arrival was like a pebble tossed into still water.
Qin Yan’s hand froze halfway.
The smile on her face stiffened for only a heartbeat before becoming even brighter.
Yet beneath that radiant smile, poisonous hatred and triumphant delight flashed across her eyes.
The instant Qin Shu stepped across the threshold, Xu Feng’s gaze swept over her.
Cold.
Sharp.
Filled with unconcealed disgust.
He looked at her as though she were nothing more than a piece of offensive trash.
The corner of his lips lowered ever so slightly.
Without a word, he flicked the ash from his cigar.
“Oh? Where did this servant girl come from?”
A shrill female voice shattered the silence.
The speaker was Xu Feng’s Third Concubine.
Dressed in a sapphire-blue satin qipao, she swayed her waist as she spoke, her eyes slicing toward Qin Shu like knives.
“Look at those shabby clothes. She’ll only offend our honored guests. Throw her out immediately!”
“Third Sister.”
Qin Yan spoke at just the right moment.
Her voice was so sweet it was almost cloying, laced with lofty pity.
She set down the grape and dabbed at the corner of her lips with a silk handkerchief embroidered with mandarin ducks.
“You’ve mistaken her.”
She deliberately dragged out her words before turning toward Qin Shu with a radiant smile.
Her eyes, however, were icy.
“This is my own elder sister… the Governor’s Mansion’s Madam.”
She deliberately emphasized the word Madam.
The title landed like a loud slap across Qin Shu’s face—
And across the stunned faces of every guest in the hall.
“What? She’s the…”
“My goodness… dressed like that? She looks worse than my family’s laundry maid…”
“I heard she was too sick to even leave her bed…”
“Look at her… No wonder the Governor…”
The whispers buzzed through the hall like a swarm of flies.
Contempt.
Ridicule.
Curiosity.
Pity.
The countless gazes wove together into an invisible net that pinned Qin Shu firmly in place, stripping away every shred of her dignity.
Qin Yan rose gracefully.
Her slender waist swayed elegantly as she walked toward Qin Shu.
The overpowering scent of expensive perfume mixed with heavy cosmetics flooded Qin Shu’s senses.
She extended a hand adorned with crimson lacquered nails, almost brushing Qin Shu’s faded sleeve.
Her face overflowed with false affection.
“Elder Sister! Your health isn’t good. Why did you come out? You’re dressed far too lightly. It pains me just to look at you. Someone, quickly…”
She pretended to summon the servants.
“Enough.”
A deep, cold voice rang through the hall.
It was not loud.
Yet it landed like solid ice striking the ground, instantly silencing every whisper.
Xu Feng.
He remained reclining against his chair.
He did not even look at Qin Shu.
Instead, his gaze rested upon the cigar in his hand, as though he were admiring the pattern of its ash.
He took another puff before slowly exhaling a cloud of smoke.
The white haze blurred his cold features.
“Who gave you permission to come out?”
His voice remained utterly emotionless.
As though he were merely stating an insignificant fact.
Yet it carried overwhelming authority.
“Go back to your courtyard.”
The word go was spoken with unmistakable clarity.
Cold.
Commanding.
Filled with absolute dismissal and profound contempt.
Qin Shu’s body swayed almost imperceptibly.
Her fingernails dug deeply into her palms.
The sharp pain preserved the last trace of clarity in her mind.
She lifted her eyes.
Not toward Xu Feng.
Nor toward Qin Yan.
Instead, her gaze traveled beyond them to the enormous folding screen behind the seat of honor.
Golden phoenix feathers shimmered upon the screen, their brilliance stabbing painfully into her eyes.
The hall fell completely silent.
Every eye focused on her.
Everyone waited eagerly for the climax of this humiliating spectacle.
Just then, a plump merchant wearing a luxurious silk robe staggered drunkenly back from relieving himself.
His face was flushed with alcohol.
Blocked by Qin Shu, he impatiently waved a hand.
“Which servant girl are you? Don’t you have any sense? You’re blocking my way! Move aside!”
As he spoke, his bulky body shoved forward.
“Ha…”
Someone finally failed to suppress a laugh.
The quiet chuckle ignited the room.
Laughter quickly spread throughout the hall.
The merchant’s shove forced Qin Shu to stumble backward.
She barely managed to steady herself after taking half a step back.
A greasy fingerprint stained the sleeve of her worn grayish-blue jacket.
She lowered her head.
Loose strands of hair fell across her face, hiding her expression.
No one could see what she was thinking.
Floating Cloud trembled with rage.
Her eyes brimmed with tears as she prepared to rush forward.
But Qin Shu stopped her with the slightest shake of her head.
Tiny.
Yet utterly resolute.
Qin Yan covered her mouth with her handkerchief.
Her shoulders trembled as she desperately tried to suppress her laughter.
The satisfaction in her eyes nearly overflowed.
Xu Feng remained expressionless.
As though the farce unfolding before him had absolutely nothing to do with him.
He merely flicked another bit of ash from his cigar.
Slowly…
Very slowly…
Qin Shu raised her head.
Her face was completely expressionless.
Pale as a sheet of cheap rice paper.
She looked at no one.
Her gaze settled only upon the polished terrazzo floor beneath her feet.
Its glossy surface reflected a blurred, gray, pitiful version of herself.
Then she turned around.
Without another glance toward the seat of honor.
Without acknowledging the laughter or whispers behind her.
Without even brushing away the greasy stain on her sleeve.
She straightened the back that seemed as though it could snap at any moment.
One step after another…
She walked back the way she had come.
Toward the Side Courtyard—
The forgotten place abandoned even by the sunlight.
Her footsteps echoed faintly across the cold stone floor.
Lonely.
Desolate.
Soon they were swallowed by the renewed celebration of the victors behind her.
Floating Cloud followed closely, her eyes red with tears.
As they passed through the moon gate that separated the two worlds, Qin Shu’s footsteps paused ever so slightly.
She turned her head just enough to glance toward the elderly house steward, Uncle Li, who stood nearby with his hands respectfully folded.
His face remained stern.
His eyes stayed lowered, as though he had seen nothing at all.
Yet the fingers gripping his horsetail whisk tightened almost imperceptibly.
His knuckles turned pale.
Qin Shu withdrew her gaze and continued walking.
Back inside the freezing room of the Side Courtyard, Floating Cloud could no longer hold back.
She dropped to her knees with a thud, wrapped her arms around Qin Shu’s legs, and burst into muffled sobs.
“Young Miss… They’re not human! They’re beasts! Every one of them!”
Qin Shu did not cry.
She walked to the battered wooden table.
The bowl of cold rice porridge still sat there.
She reached out.
Her fingertips brushed lightly along the icy rim of the bowl before slowly moving to the side.
There, lying quietly, was her open copy of Supplement to Materia Medica.
Her fingers came to rest upon its coarse pages.
She pressed down firmly.
Turned one page.
Then another.
The dry paper rustled softly beneath her fingertips.
She picked up the book and gripped it tightly in both hands.
Her knuckles turned white from the force.
The sharp edges of the pages dug deeply into her palms.