Watching Nanyan bolt away as if fleeing for her life, Nanzhi let out a light laugh. Though her father doted on the second young miss, he currently needed to rely on Nanzhi to curry favor with the Crown Prince; when weighed against tangible interests, Nanyan wouldn’t be able to get away with much.
“Miss, the Second Young Miss is simply going too far! She’s only talking nonsense out of pure jealousy!” Hongzhu’s face was so scrunched up with anger that it looked like a crumpled ball.
“You already know she’s spouting nonsense, so don’t take it to heart,” Nanzhi soothed gently, reaching out to pinch the young maid’s puffed-up cheek. “Come along, let’s not waste any more time.”
With that, Nanzhi resumed her light, measured steps toward Madam Nan’s courtyard.
If she bothered to bicker over every single disagreeable thing, she likely would have died of depression long ago.
Despite her best efforts to keep her composure, a pang of turmoil still pierced through her heart when Nanyan mentioned Wen Tingyue. After all, she was only human; she couldn’t remain entirely unaffected, and a dull, lingering ache throbbed deep within her chest.
Was he perhaps about to return soon?
In the end, they simply lacked the affinity to be together.
Nanzhi quickened her pace, walking with even more urgency.
Behind her, Chang Shu gave a gentle tug to the still-dazed Hongzhu, signaling that the young miss had pulled ahead. Snapping out of her stupor, Hongzhu scurried forward to catch up.
The moment they stepped into Madam Nan’s courtyard, a maidservant hurried out to greet them with a joyful expression: “The Young Miss has arrived? Please, come right on in; Madam has been waiting for you for quite some time!”
“Zhi’er, you’re here. Come inside quickly and take a seat.” Hearing the commotion, Madam Nan emerged gracefully from the inner room, dressed in a deep indigo gown and radiating an air of dignified elegance.
Though she was already in her thirties, Madam Nan possessed fair, impeccably maintained skin completely free of fine lines, making her look more like she was in her twenties. Standing side by side with Nanzhi, they looked less like mother and daughter and more like sisters.
However, Madam Nan’s health had been rather delicate over recent years, leaving an undercurrent of melancholy between her brows and casting a perpetually pale hue over her complexion.
Taking a few steps forward, she grasped Nanzhi’s hand directly and led her further into the room.
“Zhi’er, have you eaten your breakfast yet?” Madam Nan’s voice was exceptionally tender, her eyes brimming with maternal love as she settled down, seemingly reluctant to let go of Nanzhi’s hand even for a second.
“Mother, I have already eaten. How are you feeling today? Is your health any better?” Nanzhi asked with a proper, well-behaved posture, looking at her mother with deep concern.
In her mother’s presence, she allowed herself to truly unwind. The tightly wound nerves that had strained her endurance all morning finally found a rare moment of slack.
With an expression of deep attachment, she leaned in close, resting her head affectionately against Madam Nan’s shoulder like a child seeking pampering as she murmured softly: “Zhi’er missed you, Mother.”
Taking it all in, Madam Nan felt her heart break with ache. Though Nanzhi hadn’t spoken of it, how could Madam Nan fail to understand that her daughter had suffered a severe grievance?
“Mother is fine. It is you who have been wronged, Zhi’er.”
Madam Nan’s tone could not have been softer as she cradled Nanzhi in her arms just as she used to when Nanzhi was a little girl, gently patting her back.
Early that morning, word had reached her through the servants about those malicious whispers regarding Zhi’er—what absolute garbage and preposterous lies!
Her Zhi’er was the most sensible and well-behaved girl; how could she ever commit such an unseemly act?
Known for her gentle temperament, Madam Nan flew into a rare fury, severely punishing every single servant within the household who had dared to wag their tongues in idle gossip. Yet the heavy, oppressive knot in her chest refused to dissipate.
Madam Nan had long since stepped back from managing household affairs, meaning she hadn’t yet uncovered the exact sequence of events from the previous night. All she knew was that her daughter had returned from the Crown Prince’s residence that very morning.
Refusing to believe the vicious rumors, she knew deep down that there had to be a hidden story behind it all—and that her daughter had undoubtedly suffered an immense, crushing injustice.
At that thought, the corners of Madam Nan’s eyes burned red with profound heartache.
“Zhi’er, what on earth happened last night?”
Nanzhi’s body stiffened for a moment as she rested in Madam Nan’s arms, her gaze turning hollow and dazed. After a long while, she finally snapped back to reality and replied in a soft whisper: “Mother, Father drugged me last night and delivered me to the Crown Prince.”
“How could he dare!”
Madam Nan was so shocked she nearly lost her seat, burning with overwhelming fury. She never could have imagined that things had transpired this way!
That brute Nan Huaimin!
At that moment, snuggled warmly in Madam Nan’s embrace, Nanzhi—who had suppressed her emotions for so long—finally let them burst forth: “Mother, it hurts.”
No longer caring about anything else, Madam Nan pulled Nanzhi tightly into her arms, her voice soft and gentle as she coaxed the daughter in her grasp: “Mother knows. In front of Mother, Zhi’er can drop her disguise and doesn’t need to be strong. If you want to cry, just cry.”
Madam Nan’s eyes burned red with heartache, her heart twisting into a painful knot, yet her expression remained tender and loving as she continuously murmured words of comfort.
Nanzhi, who had always been so strong, hadn’t shed a single tear when drugged by her father, nor had she cried when trapped in utter despair after being violated by the Crown Prince.
Yet, tucked within her mother’s warm embrace, crystal-hot pearls of tears welled up and rolled down one after another, splashing onto the back of Madam Nan’s hand and piercing straight into Madam Nan’s heart.
In a hazy flash, Nanzhi felt as though she had been transported back to her childhood, to the times when she would fall down and her mother would hold her and patiently comfort her. Back then, she would cry and point to her knees: “Aini, Zhi’er’s knees hurt.”
Now, pointing straight to her chest, Nanzhi choked out through her sobs: “Aini, Zhi’er hurts right here.”
Madam Nan gently patted her back, unable to bear seeing her in such agony and overwhelmed by a wave of helplessness, leaving her no choice but to let her indulge and cry to her heart’s content in her arms.
Nanzhi wept silently for a long time. Perhaps exhausted from crying, she eventually drifted off to sleep right there in Madam Nan’s arms.
Madam Nan stood vigil over her quietly. Seeing that Nanzhi had fallen asleep, the tears she had hidden away for so long finally broke free and rolled down.
Why must her Zhi’er suffer a fate as bitter as her own?
She had originally hoped her daughter’s life would turn out differently, yet unexpected tragedy had struck all the same. Letting out several quiet sighs, Madam Nan thought to herself how cruel fate could be.
Half an incense stick of time later, noticing Nanzhi’s eyelids fluttering as if she were about to wake up, she hurriedly wiped away her tears.
Opening her eyes, Nanzhi revealed a pair of red, rabbit-like eyes from all the crying. Slowly raising her head, she blinked in a daze—she had actually fallen asleep?
Perhaps noticing the lingering worry in her mother’s eyes, Nanzhi forced a smile: “Mother, I’m fine now. You don’t need to worry about me.”
Holding her hand, Madam Nan offered a thorough warning: “Zhi’er, if you’re hurting inside, make sure you don’t bottle it up. It will only make you sick. Mother just wants you to live your days in peace and comfort from now on.”
And please, not end up like me.
“Mother, I understand. Rest assured, I really am alright.”
Aside from her eyes still retaining a faint redness, Nanzhi’s expression had already returned to normal.
“As for you and that child Tingyue… ah, what a pity.”
With a scandal like this breaking out, Madam Nan knew all too well that Zhi’er and Wen Tingyue would likely never be able to tie the knot.
Putting aside how Wen Tingyue himself might react, his household would never consent to this match—especially with the Crown Prince now involved.
“Mother, just treat it as us lacking the affinity to be together.”
Nanzhi’s voice sounded exceptionally calm, tossing out the light, airy words as though she truly didn’t care at all.
Yet Madam Nan noticed that Nanzhi’s grip clenched slightly tighter within her palm. Shaking her head, she realized once more how cruelly destiny toyed with people.
The imperial house was inherently the most ruthless place of all. Madam Nan had never wished for Zhi’er to enter that deep palace courtyard, but with Zhi’er now belonging to the Crown Prince, there was simply no other way out.