The carriage stopped at a remote, dilapidated small courtyard.
Three tiled houses stood within, the courtyard walls partially collapsed, the wooden gate hanging precariously.
A few chickens leisurely paced the grass outside the courtyard.
Everywhere exuded poverty, yet everything was neatly kept, carrying a sense of tranquil years.
Cheng Yao stepped forward and gently knocked on the wooden gate. A frail, elderly woman with bound feet opened it.
Seeing Cheng Yao’s refined attire and dignified bearing, the old woman grew uneasy, her expression wary and guarded.
Cheng Yao stated her identity and purpose, but the old woman still hesitated, refusing to step aside.
She had never met Cheng Yao nor heard Cheng Ling mention her, fearing deception.
“Mother, who is it?”
At that moment, another woman approached the wooden gate.
With a creak, it opened, revealing the thin, pale figure of Cheng Ling before Cheng Yao.
“Yao’er, why have you come?”
She tried her best to appear calm, but her trembling voice betrayed her inner excitement.
She was not as cold as she seemed on the surface.
At the very least, she cherished their blood ties—only she was too reserved, too restrained, hiding her feelings too deeply.
“Sister!”
Cheng Yao rushed forward and gave her a tight embrace.
Cheng Ling looked so much like Chen Wen, her dear sister from the Apocalypse.
Though they had not known each other long, they trusted one another implicitly, shared their deepest secrets, and relied on each other for survival.
Later, Chen Wen was bitten by a zombie while trying to save her.
Cheng Yao exhausted all her wealth to acquire twenty expensive antidotes, yet none could save Chen Wen’s life.
Chen Wen died in her arms…
Cheng Yao choked up, “I’ve missed you so much.”
Warm tears trickled into Cheng Ling’s neck, causing her to freeze in place, goosebumps rising all over her body, her heart profoundly shaken.
After this younger sister was brought back to the manor, she had been timid and reticent, distant from everyone—especially jealous that Cheng Ling had been doted on by their parents and family since birth, spared the hardships of displacement and hunger. She had not even spoken to her.
But seeing her like this now, it seemed she cared for her after all?
“I’ve truly missed you so much.”
Cheng Yao nuzzled against her neck, whispering softly.
Feeling that dependence, Cheng Ling’s stiff body gradually softened. She reached out and hugged her tightly in return, tears falling.
They were sisters born of the same mother—how could she not have feelings for her younger sister?
She had merely suppressed them.
The two sisters wept in each other’s arms, a thousand words conveyed through their tears.
Cheng Yao wiped her tears. “Sister, you’ve suffered all these years.”
Cheng Ling slowly shook her head. “Little sister, my hardships are not even a tenth of yours. I married and left the capital without considering your difficult circumstances. Do you… resent me for it?”
After speaking, she carefully observed Cheng Yao’s reaction.
“Sister, you were of marriageable age. If you hadn’t married, Wang Qiuniang would have controlled you, and your fate would have been tragic.” Cheng Yao clasped her hands. “I’ve never blamed you.”
“That’s good, that’s good.”
A faint smile touched Cheng Ling’s lips, yet her tears continued to fall.
Her younger sister had once been somewhat stubborn and selfish, but now she was so understanding. She wondered how much suffering she had endured to become like this.
“Sister, look.”
Cheng Yao pointed behind her at the winding procession of carriages, declaring with grand pride, “This is the dowry I’ve brought to make up for what Mother couldn’t give you.”
Cheng Ling followed her finger and looked over, instantly stunned.
“Cheng Lan and I exchanged marriages—she married the Second Prince, and I married the War King. Fortunately, the War King treats me well. He accompanied me home on the third day after the wedding. Father, feeling guilty, gave me a sum of silver as compensation.”
Cheng Yao’s eyes sparkled, and her words were spoken lightly, but Cheng Ling knew how much grievance she had endured in the process, and how perilous the marriage exchange had been. If not for the War King’s magnanimity, she would have lost her life.
“Sister…”
Cheng Ling didn’t know how to comfort her, and could only weep uncontrollably.
“Why cry? I’m much stronger now than before,” Cheng Yao said indifferently. “Alright, sister, stop crying. Come quickly and see what I’ve brought for you.”
Cheng Yao took Cheng Ling’s hand and ran over, lifting the carriage curtain.
“All of this is Shu brocade,” she whispered into Cheng Ling’s ear. “I bought a lot of Shu brocade. Before long, the price of Shu brocade will skyrocket. You can sell it for several times its value, then leave the capital with your husband and live a stable life.”
“Sister!”
Her words carried too much information, leaving Cheng Ling utterly shocked and momentarily unsure where to begin asking.
Cheng Yao continued, “Sister, don’t overthink it. What I give you, you must accept. I’m asking you to leave because the Emperor suspects the War King. I’m afraid that if anything happens to us, you’ll be implicated.”
Cheng Ling closed her eyes, sorting through the information. When she opened them again, she had calmed down considerably.
“Sister, then you need this Shu brocade more than I do.”
“No, if the Dog Emperor moves against the War King, we won’t be able to keep a single copper coin.”
Cheng Ling was horrified. “Then what will you do?”
“Sister, listen to me. The Prince and I have already made preparations. Don’t worry about us. You just need to take care of your own family.”
As she spoke, Cheng Yao asked, “Sister, where should we unload this Shu brocade?”
Seeing her determination, Cheng Ling gathered her scattered emotions. “Have them move it to my cellar.”
Since it would be sold off in a few days anyway, there was no need to worry about dampness in the cellar.
“Alright.”
Cheng Yao went over to speak with the coachmen and paid them double the usual fare.
The two sisters went inside to talk, where Cheng Yao met her brother-in-law, Fu Qingshan.
He had delicate, handsome features, and his tall, slender figure resembled a green bamboo—unyielding and dignified. When he looked at Cheng Ling, his gaze was filled with deep affection. He proactively took away their exquisitely beautiful children so the sisters could share some intimate words.
Cheng Ling’s mother-in-law was a woman of few words but showed great respect for her, asking how she planned to prepare the meal.
If not for the tragic news that would come months later, Cheng Ling’s life, though modest, would have been utterly content.
Thinking of this, Cheng Yao once again urged her to leave the capital.
“You’re only thinking of me, but what about yourself?” Cheng Ling looked at Cheng Yao with concern. “The plan you and the Prince have devised—can it ensure your safe escape?”
Cheng Yao grasped Cheng Ling’s hand firmly. “Sister, rest assured, we have it under control. And no matter what situation we’re in, don’t worry about us or try to inquire or contact us. Once we’re settled, I’ll come find you.”
Hearing the danger implied in her words, Cheng Ling’s eyes reddened again.
“Sister, I hate how powerless I am, unable to help you at all.”
“I’ll be fine. The other carriage contains gold, silver, and valuables. Hide them well and use them for security.”
Cheng Ling didn’t respond, crying until her face was streaked with tears.
Her younger sister, trapped in peril herself, had considered everything for her. As an older sister, she felt utterly useless.
“Sister, do you trust me?”
“Yes.”
“Then you must convince your husband to leave the capital, the sooner the better.”
“Alright.”
After the meal, Cheng Yao tearfully bid farewell to Cheng Ling.
Two days later, the manager of the “Bright Moon” fabric shop came to see her, saying the War family had agreed to sell the Shu brocade at a fifty percent discount.
Cheng Yao refused.
That evening, the “Bright Moon” Cloth Shop was burglarized, with all its merchandise completely looted.
When the case was reported to the yamen, there was no trace of carts transporting the goods, nor any sign of strangers entering or leaving—everything seemed to have vanished into thin air, leaving not a single clue.
Upon hearing the news, Old Madam Zhan smashed her favorite tea set.