But the girl was clearly not so easily cowed. After thinking for a moment, she asked: “Since my in-laws agreed, why was I first tricked into the Cheng family estate, then drugged unconscious?”
She did not believe that such a coveted position in the Cheng household would lead the steward to seek out Wang Qiao for extra help.
Nanny Zhao was momentarily taken aback. In the capital, they were desperate for the false heiress to take her place, and those sent knew that country folk were troublesome and hard to manage. To erase all traces of the girl’s roots in Jiancheng, the Prince had ordered her to be made “dead.” Thus, when they spirited her away, they used crude and direct methods, hardly able to withstand the girl’s sharp questioning.
But Nanny Zhao had no need to invent elaborate lies for a rustic village girl. Following Prince Cining’s orders, if she disobeyed, she was simply to be frightened into submission.
So Nanny Zhao signaled to the pale-faced maid, Ning Yan, to open the long wooden chest she carried.
Ning Yan stiffened, eyes wide and lips trembling, as she lifted the lid.
The girl gasped—inside were the severed heads of the Xue couple, packed together, the stench of blood mingled with lime choking the air!
Nanny Zhao looked with satisfaction at the two girls’ blanched faces and said slowly, word by word: “Remember this. Once you return to the household, everything must be done exactly as I say. Otherwise, the next heads in this chest will be yours.”
Ning Yan snapped the chest shut, then fell to her knees, sobbing, “Ning Yan will obey everything Nanny says. Please, spare this servant’s life!”
Nanny Zhao snorted, ordered Ning Yan to carry the chest out, then turned back with feigned gentleness: “Do you have any more questions now?”
The girl clenched her fists, tears brimming in her eyes. Like any frightened maiden, she choked out: “N-no… none.”
Nanny Zhao sneered. Just a country wench—frighten her a little, and she became pliant as clay. That made the next steps easy. She spoke deliberately: “Then remember this. From now on, you are the legitimate granddaughter of the Sheng family’s old madam in the capital, the only daughter of Master Sheng Xuanhe, and the betrothed of Prince Cining’s heir—Sheng Xiangqiao!”
Perhaps Nanny Zhao’s relentless threats had their effect. By the time the carriage reached the Sheng family’s back gate in the capital, the newly minted “Sheng Xiangqiao” stepped down exactly as trained—head lowered, shoulders hunched, hood drawn over her cloak—as she walked into the embroidery tower of the inner courtyard.
Master Sheng Xuanhe, waiting in the courtyard, could not help but step forward when he saw the girl approach. As her father, he had to admit—his nephew’s eye was sharp. Somehow, he had found a girl who looked exactly like his daughter, Sheng Xiangqiao.
Though this girl was sallow and thin, as if long underfed, her brows, eyes, and nose were uncannily alike. She was shorter than Sheng Xiangqiao, but still young—she would grow taller, and with raised shoe soles, she could pass.
But what if the Empress summoned her to the palace? It would not be like gazing at a mountain from afar, where only the outline mattered. In close conversation, would this village girl not be exposed?
The thought gave Sheng Xuanhe a pounding headache. How had he ended up aboard such a pirate’s ship, with no way to disembark?
Yet matters had gone too far. For the sake of the Sheng family’s honor, and to avoid the Emperor’s wrath, he could only grit his teeth and gamble—treating a dead horse as if it might live.
That very morning, an imperial decree from the Empress arrived, expressing concern that Miss Sheng’s illness lingered, and ordering imperial physicians to attend her.
Now, with the impostor in place, at least they could deceive the physicians this time.
Although Sheng Xuanhe was in the same boat as Prince Cining, he had his own calculations.
According to the plan his nephew Cheng Tianfu had written in a letter, as long as the impostor showed herself briefly at the family gates and temples, the scandal of Sheng Xiangqiao’s elopement could be covered up. Then, if an “accident” occurred and the daughter was declared to have died young, even if the Emperor’s hopes were dashed, he would not blame the Sheng family.
Cheng Tianfu had explained clearly in his letter: the throne was full of uncertainties, every step must be weighed carefully, and they must never bind themselves too tightly to Prince Cining. If the cousin could be made to “die,” it would naturally dissolve the marriage alliance with the princely household—perhaps even turning misfortune into blessing. At that point, the stand-in girl could simply be paid off and dismissed.
At the time, Sheng Xuanhe had thought his nephew too young, speaking recklessly of matters of succession, not knowing the height of heaven or the depth of earth. But now he saw that though young, Cheng Tianfu’s vision was far sharper than his own, despite years steeped in officialdom.
It was hateful that his own cowardice, after Prince Cining’s threats, had led him to admit there was a village girl resembling Sheng Xiangqiao—thus handing the matter over to Prince Cining. Now things had gone too far. He could only take one step at a time. With a long sigh, Sheng Xuanhe summoned Nanny Zhao, the Prince’s envoy, to discuss the imperial physicians’ impending visit.
By afternoon, the Imperial Medical Bureau indeed sent a physician. The false young lady did not even need to feign illness—perhaps from fright and the fatigue of travel, she had caught a chill and lay feverish in bed. Her sallow, thin face was the very image of sickness.
The physician carefully took her pulse, prescribed medicine, exchanged a few polite words with Sheng Xuanhe, and departed.
But once outside the Sheng estate, he went straight to the palace to take the Empress Tian’s pulse.
Behind the curtains of the Phoenix Palace came a startled voice: “What? You truly saw clearly that she was Sheng Xiangqiao?”
The physician respectfully replied: “I have seen Miss Sheng several times before. Though she is much thinner now, her appearance is indeed that of Miss Sheng.”
After the physician left, the Empress Tian turned her phoenix eyes toward her chief eunuch Qin Shenghai and asked coldly: “Did you not say your friends outside the palace confirmed that Sheng Xiangqiao had fled with a vagabond?”
Qin Shenghai was equally shocked, hastily kneeling: “It is true! When they boarded the ship, I was inspecting goods from Jiangnan and happened to see them. Sheng Xiangqiao looked terrified when she saw me. I did not understand at the time and missed the chance—otherwise I would have seized them on the spot, and Prince Cining’s household would already be in chaos!”
The Empress waved her hand. She had only later heard of the scandal from her niece Tian Peirong.
Though Tian Peirong spoke vaguely, the Empress was shrewd enough to see her hand in it. Truly a daughter of the Tian family—when she desired a man, she could devise any scheme!
The Empress knew Tian Peirong had long admired Cheng Peinian. But that man, once the most handsome in the capital, now had a virtuous wife and children. Still, Tian Peirong had contrived to strike at the Sheng family without shedding blood.
Yet Tian Peirong had not foreseen that the actor she arranged would fall in love with Miss Sheng, turning play into reality and carrying her off overseas. Her carefully staged scandal collapsed, forcing her to seek the Empress’s aid to expose the Sheng daughter’s disgrace.
The Empress had not been in a hurry, merely gloating, waiting to see Prince Cining’s household in turmoil. Who would have thought the Sheng family would conjure up a Sheng Xiangqiao out of thin air, calming the storm?
At this thought, the Empress smashed her jade teacup in fury.
“Your Majesty, take care of your health, do not be anxious,” Qin Shenghai soothed. “There have been no ships from the South Seas recently, and the Sheng family’s search parties have not withdrawn. How could Sheng Xiangqiao suddenly reappear? Most likely, they found a lookalike to fill the role. Once Your Majesty meets her, a few words will surely expose the impostor.”
Cunning as ever, Qin Shenghai, though shocked, quickly turned his mind to the hidden truth.
The Emperor’s birthday banquet was approaching, and an edict decreed that the heir of Prince Cining and the young lady of the Sheng family must attend.
Under such a decree, as long as the Sheng girl still drew breath, even if she had to crawl, she must appear in the palace. At that time, both the Sheng family and Prince Cining’s household would surely be disgraced.
Thinking of this, Empress Tian finally calmed the anger in her brow, sneering as she awaited the banquet, eager to see whether the Sheng family had truly raised a monkey clever enough to pass for the real thing.
Meanwhile, in the Sheng household, the maids who had once served Sheng Xiangqiao closely had all vanished almost overnight. New faces filled their places, though the senior maid Ning Yan remained.
Ning Yan, however, had grown quiet, keeping to herself, serving the sickly young lady in silence. Alongside her was Nanny Zhao from the prince’s household, said to be teaching the girl palace etiquette in advance. Daily, the inner courtyard echoed with her scolding voice. Though the words were indistinct, her tone carried the full authority of a palace tutor.
“How many times have I told you? When drinking tea, the right hand must turn the cup, lips touch lightly, sip slowly so the fragrance fills your mouth. To gulp half a cup like a peasant—what disgrace!” As she spoke, Nanny Zhao flicked her cane, leaving a red welt on Sheng Xiangqiao’s wrist.
The girl winced softly, set down her cup, and glanced at the ceremonial gown hanging behind the screen—the set gifted yesterday by the old madam, meant for her granddaughter’s audience at the palace.
Thanks to Ning Yan’s tireless drilling of family genealogies, the impostor now knew that only Sheng Xuanhe and Ning Yan understood the truth. The rest of the household believed the real young lady had been found.
Though some had known of her past scandals, Sheng Xuanhe had dismissed her closest attendants, leaving no one aware of the details.
As for the old madam, Sheng Xuanhe had excused everything by claiming Sheng Xiangqiao was ill, never burdening her with the sordid truth.
Though the girl had never won her grandmother’s favor, such a grand occasion demanded a gesture. The old madam had ordered her finest tribute silks and hired a renowned tailor to make the gown.
Now, as the impostor gazed at the dress, Nanny Zhao assumed she was merely dazzled by its beauty and snapped: “Stop gawking and learn your manners!”
Though Nanny Zhao’s training was harsh, the girl’s food and medicine had been good, restoring some of the bloom expected of a noble maiden.
Hearing the scolding, she smiled faintly and said timidly: “Please don’t be angry, Nanny. I am dull and trouble you greatly. It’s only that the gown’s sleeves are short, and they won’t cover my wrists. If the welts from your cane remain until the banquet, and someone asks, I fear I won’t know how to answer…”
Nanny Zhao was stunned. She hadn’t considered that. If the marks were seen and the Emperor asked, it would indeed be troublesome.
This girl was subtly warning her to restrain herself. But Nanny Zhao was no novice—she was seasoned enough that even the heir gave her respect. How could she be cowed by a country girl?
Her wrist turned, ready to lash the girl’s backside instead—when suddenly a cool young voice came from the doorway: “Nanny Zhao, my cousin is right. Though you must be strict in teaching her, master and servant are not the same. You should leave her some dignity.”
Nanny Zhao looked up. A tall youth stood at the door, clad in dark riding gear, a sword at his side, steady and imposing.