At those words, Nanny Zhang’s hand froze mid‑wipe. Her chest tightened, and her eyes instantly grew hot. Just moments ago, she had wanted to ask what her young lady planned to do. But fearing her question would touch a raw wound, she had held back. Unexpectedly, Chun Xing, with her straightforward nature, blurted it out.
“Has Miss truly thought it through?” Nanny Zhang forced herself to swallow the sour ache in her heart, lowered her gaze, and stepped closer.
“Nanny…” Su Ran lifted her eyes. Catching sight of those clouded, reddened pupils, her calm expression faltered, and the words she meant to say lodged in her throat.
Nanny Zhang had raised her with care. Not her mother, yet more than a mother. Never before had she lost control like this—she must be aching terribly inside.
“I don’t wish for you to be rich or noble,” Nanny Zhang said, tears spilling before she could finish. “I only hope someone will treat you sincerely. You’re such a good girl—why have you never met the right person? Four years wasted here in vain…” She turned quickly aside, wiping her tears, ashamed to let them fall and burden her young lady further. But her tears betrayed her.
If the Marquis and Madam, if the young masters in the afterlife knew of her plight today—could they rest in peace? Old Master, Madam, First Young Master, Second Young Master… this useless servant failed to protect her. I have wronged you all.
Su Ran watched her trembling frame, rose, and gently took a handkerchief to wipe her tears. “Nanny, don’t be sad for me.”
Nanny Zhang accepted the cloth, hastily dabbing her face. Her voice was hoarse with suppressed grief: “How can I not be sad? I watched you grow up. I know your temper better than anyone. If they hadn’t driven you to the brink, you would never have made such a choice. They’ve gone too far.”
“It’s only my youth and poor judgment,” Su Ran replied evenly, lips curved in a faint smile, trying to ease her. “I’ve stumbled once, but I’ll be wiser next time.”
“Nanny, I’ve been holding back my tears. But once you cried, you made me cry too,” Chun Xing choked from the side, rubbing her eyes with both hands.
The two of them wept without end. Su Ran, however, remained composed. She first pulled Nanny Zhang to sit, then pressed Chun Xing firmly into a chair. Finally, she sat down before them.
“Once you’ve stopped crying, I’ll speak.”
“I won’t cry, I won’t cry anymore,” Chun Xing said, scrubbing her face and forcing a smile, pushing her tears back.
“It was my discourtesy,” Nanny Zhang murmured, swallowing her sorrow. For now, she could not devise a plan for her young lady—but neither could she add to her troubles. She was but an old woman, unafraid of death, only fearful that her young lady’s life might fall short of happiness.
They all had to be strong.
Once the two had steadied their emotions, Su Ran finally spoke, slowly and clearly: “Nanny, it’s true this all happened suddenly, but I’ve thought it through carefully. They trample on me without restraint, never sparing a thought for my feelings. They gamble that I will endure it, that as a lone orphan I have no strength to resist. Am I to swallow humiliation and, like them, bully myself? If I force myself to maintain ties with Shen Que, it will only make them despise me further. That path can only end in ruin. What’s done is done—there’s no choice but to face it. Yet I see it’s a dead end. If the matter cannot be solved, then perhaps the people can. Life is full of crossroads. There are countless roads to take. I simply refuse to walk the one bristling with thorns, the one that will leave me bloodied. I’ll choose another path instead. As long as I don’t debase myself, no one will have the chance to wound me. Nanny, Chunxing—don’t you think I’m right?”
Hearing her words, Nanny Zhang’s face cleared of its earlier gloom, breaking into a smile. The child she had protected had grown up. Her way of handling matters was exactly like Madam’s in her lifetime—able to take things up, and able to set them down. That was good. She would not trap herself.
“With such clarity, Miss, the Master and Madam surely know in the afterlife. That so‑called princess may be born of noble stock, but you are too. We need not suffer this indignity,” Nanny Zhang said gently.
“I agree as well! My lady is far nobler than any princess,” Chun Xing chimed in, raising both hands in support.
“When do you plan to leave?” Nanny Zhang asked.
“I am the legitimate wife of the General’s household. Even if I go, I will never leave in disgrace. My father lived a life of valor—I cannot lose his spirit, nor can I tarnish the honor of my father and mother.”
He weighed the pros and cons; she cut her losses in time. Fortunately, it was not too late—she was still young.
Love is costly. If one gives it, it must be to someone worthy. The General’s household was not worthy.
Chun Xing saw her determination and vowed solemnly: “Miss, whatever you need me to do, just say the word. As long as you can be well again, even if I must walk through fire or climb a mountain of blades, I won’t so much as blink.”
Shen Que had won great merit and brought back a princess. For the sake of peace between two nations, the court would surely value that princess.
Her own lady stood alone. How could one person fight against them all?
She was willing to lend her strength—even brute force, if that was all she had.
“Take it easy; it’s not so dramatic. When the cart reaches the mountain, there will be a road. One step at a time,” Su Ran said with a light smile, nodding to reassure them.
The future was unknown. She only knew: when soldiers come, resist them; when floods rise, block them with earth.
That night, Su Ran sat at her desk, leafing through scrolls.
Chun Xing entered from outside. Passing by, she paused, stealing glances at her lady’s face, several times wanting to speak but holding back—afraid to add to her burdens. She went straight to make the bed instead. Yet her heart seethed, and a heavy sigh escaped her lips.
Hearing it, Su Ran lowered the scroll, her gaze lifting over its edge to her maid’s back.
This girl was too straightforward to keep things bottled up.
“If you have something to say, speak it. If you choke on it, you’ll harm yourself—and then who will share my worries in the future?”
Chun Xing quickly finished with the bedding, turned, and exhaled deeply. “Miss, the General is spending the night in that woman’s quarters.”
“You wish he were in mine?”
“No!” Chun Xing shook her head violently, like a rattle drum.
“Then why are you puffed up with anger?”
“I’m indignant for you. To think you’ve kept an empty room for four years, managed all the household affairs, even fulfilled his filial duties—and this is the ending you get. It’s too unfair. He’s nothing but a worthless general! He came back without a single proper word to you, and now he acts like this—it’s a slap in your face!”
The General’s household was a hollow shell, long on the verge of collapse. It was only because their lady managed everything so well that life had flourished.
Not only did he fail to be grateful— He even burned the bridge after crossing. Clinging to the princess of Xilong, he thought himself invincible. Dream on!
“Have you forgotten what I told you today?” Su Ran tapped Chunxing’s forehead lightly with her book, scolding.
“I haven’t forgotten. I’m just angry for you,” Chun Xing muttered, rubbing the spot.
“Life is short. Don’t trap yourself in emotions, understand?” Su Ran said, half‑stern, half‑gentle.
“I understand.”
“Go to bed early. Tomorrow we have proper business to attend to.”