Wen Yu clearly resisted the topic, biting his teeth and striding past Wen Ning. “It’s nothing. I just tripped a few days ago…”
“Wen Yu!” Wen Ning quickly turned and called him back.
Could a simple fall leave so many bruises? That boy had definitely been in a fight!
His face alone bore so many marks—she dreaded to think how many more covered his body.
Wen Yu’s steps faltered, but he shifted the subject again. “Sister, you haven’t returned to the Wen residence for nearly half a year. I know you think Mother and I are a burden to you.”
Wen Ning frowned. Her younger brother looked cold and aloof, but inside, he was deeply sensitive. “What nonsense are you imagining?”
“It’s not nonsense!”
His voice rose, carrying a faint choke. “Mother and I can’t do anything for you. It’s only right that you despise us. If… if only I could grow up sooner. If only I had been born before you…”
Wen Ning was startled by his words. He was only fourteen—already entering a rebellious stage? Before, he had sometimes shown sensitivity, but most of the time he maintained the image of a cool, stoic young man, rarely exposing his inner feelings. This self‑loathing, self‑despairing tone was the first she had ever heard from him.
Unconsciously, Wen Ning softened her voice. “Yu’er…”
“Come on. Mother has been waiting for you for a long time.” Wen Yu quickened his pace, almost fleeing forward.
Wen Ning frowned at his retreating back, then asked Chunxi beside her:
“Did my mother’s servants ever mention anything unusual about Wen Yu recently?”
“No.”
Chunxi, bewildered and worried by the Sixth Young Master’s attitude, said: “Every time Madam Zhao’s people came, they said both she and the young master were well, that you needn’t worry.”
Clearly, they were reporting only good news, hiding the bad.
Wen Ning rubbed her brow helplessly and said: “Let’s go to Mother first.”
Madam Zhao lived in a courtyard called Hexiang Pavilion. The name was elegant, but in truth it was the worst and most remote part of the Wen estate—cold in winter, stifling in summer. That was why the original Wen Ning and Madam Zhao had often fallen ill living there.
Wen Ning walked the familiar path. As she turned past the corridor, she saw a slender woman in plain blue robes already craning her neck at the gate, waiting.
The moment Madam Zhao saw Wen Ning, her face lit up. She hurried forward, grasped her daughter’s hand tightly, and said with joy: “Yaoyao, you… you’re here? Why didn’t you send word ahead, so I could prepare something good for you? If Yu’er hadn’t just told me you’d come, I wouldn’t have known!”
The joy on Madam Zhao’s face was impossible to hide. Her gentle, loving eyes swept over Wen Ning’s features as though gazing at a rare treasure, unwilling to miss a single detail. “Yaoyao, you look well this time. Seeing you like this, I can finally be at ease.”
The incident of the original Wen Ning falling into the water had never been spoken of outside the Protector’s household, and the original had never had the chance to tell her mother and brother. They still knew nothing.
Wen Ning’s feelings were complicated. The true Wen Ning was gone; she herself was only an impostor—this truth she could not yet reveal.
After a long moment, she whispered softly: “Mother, I’ve missed you too.”
Her words made Madam Zhao pause, staring at her with a faint daze.
At that moment, Aunt Hongxiu, standing beside Madam Zhao, smiled and said: “Ah, Third Miss has finally returned. Don’t just stand at the door—come inside and talk. I’ve already sent Lan You to the kitchens to prepare your lunch, with extra dishes you love.”
Wen Ning smiled faintly, taking Madam Zhao’s arm to lead her inside. “Mother, Aunt Hongxiu is right. I fell into the water a few days ago, and my body is still weak…”
She had noticed Madam Zhao’s slight suspicion, so she deliberately mentioned the accident to divert her attention.
As expected, Madam Zhao’s face turned anxious. “You fell into the water? What happened? Were you hurt? I remember you don’t know how to swim…”
“It’s fine. See? I’m standing here perfectly well.”
By now, they had reached the small hall. Wen Ning seated her mother on the long couch and said: “But that fall truly frightened me. After being rescued, I felt my mind suddenly clear. These past six months, I hadn’t come home, and my heart was in turmoil. I kept wondering how my life had turned out this way, even feeling hopeless. Thanks to that accident, I feel I’ve finally seen things more clearly…”
Madam Zhao’s eyes filled with sorrow. She clutched Wen Ning’s hand tightly. “Yaoyao, it’s your mother’s fault. If I had any ability, you would have married into the Wang family long ago and lived well, instead of entering the Protector’s household, walking the same path I did. It was my mistake. I should never have defied your grandfather, insisting on becoming your father’s concubine. That was bad enough, but my greatest regret is dragging you and your brother into this life without freedom.”
Ever since Wen Jiushan’s true nature had been exposed, Madam Zhao had awakened completely—but too late. Though she did not wallow in self‑pity every day, whenever faced with helpless situations, she could not help but despise herself.
“Enough, Mother. You’ve said these words hundreds of times.” Wen Ning deliberately put on a slightly exasperated look. “I’ve thought it through these past months. What’s done cannot be undone, so we must focus on the future. Don’t worry—I’ll work hard to give you and my brother a good life.”
Madam Zhao stared at her blankly. If not for her daughter’s earlier words, she might have believed this was not her child at all. Still, a faint sense of strangeness unsettled her heart. “Yaoyao… what do you mean? I heard the Protector has returned to Fenglin. Could it be… between you and him…”
Wen Ning sat opposite her and said calmly: “Mother, I never intended to remain a concubine forever.”
Since she planned to include them in her future, these things had to be said sooner or later. And perhaps, in time, she would need their cooperation.
Madam Zhao was stunned, and even Aunt Hongxiu looked at Wen Ning in shock, as though she had uttered something dreadful.
“No… Yaoyao, though I hate to see you as a concubine, you’ve already entered the Protector’s household. How could you not be one?”
The only possibility she could imagine was if the great Protector himself elevated her daughter to principal wife. But how could that ever happen?
The Protector—what kind of man was he? With his power and status, what kind of woman could he not marry?
Her greatest fear was that Yaoyao had developed thoughts she should not have. Having lived through the intrigues of the inner chambers herself, Madam Zhao knew well: anyone who harbored such ambitions could never survive long in that household.