Outside Linzhou City, the spring breeze carried warmth, and apricot blossoms lined the road.
Zhou Lin sat astride his horse, facing the spring wind. The scenery was bright and beautiful, yet he had no mood to admire it. He bore the command of the Old Marchioness Wuling: he was to make a journey to the capital.
The old lady had once been the Marquis’s secondary wife. After the Marquis’s death, with no children of her own, she requested permission to return to her ancestral home in Linzhou, citing her age and longing for her native soil. Marquis Wuling, unwilling to let his stepmother live alone in such a remote place, tried countless times to persuade her otherwise. Failing that, he had no choice but to let her go. Out of filial piety and to prevent her from living in solitude, he sent a concubine and a four‑year‑old illegitimate daughter to accompany her.
More than ten years had passed in the blink of an eye. The concubine was long gone, leaving only the old lady and the girl, Ming Niansheng, in Linzhou.
Zhou Lin’s present mission was to lead a company of guards, escorting Ming Niansheng to the capital to visit her kin.
The journey from Linzhou to the capital would take no less than ten days. The empire was at peace; traveling along the official roads, they would not encounter bandits. Moreover, the Wuling Marquisate’s reputation was formidable—none would dare provoke them.
Zhou Lin’s worries lay not in the road ahead, but in what might await them once they reached the capital. Years ago, he had been but a minor guard in the Marquis’s household, unable to discern the tangled factions at court. Yet he had faintly sensed discord between the Marquis and the Emperor. Recently, he overheard a maid by the old lady’s side mention that the Marquis’s health seemed to be failing. That was why the old lady had sent Ming Niansheng in her stead to pay a visit.
If the Marquis no longer commanded his former power, would the Emperor seize the chance to strike and destroy the household?
Once in the capital, Zhou Lin was unsure if he would ever return. It had been years since he last entered the capital. Perhaps the situation there was not as dire as he imagined?
As he pondered, a guard rode up to report: “Sir, someone blocks the road ahead. She claims to be the young lady’s friend, come to bid farewell.”
They had reached Pinghu Lake outside Linzhou. By the shore, willow branches sprouted new buds, swaying gracefully in the breeze. A small boat was moored on the water, and at its bow stood a young woman in a green dress, peering expectantly with her maid.
Zhou Lin narrowed his eyes and recognized her: Ming Niansheng’s friend, Luo Xinci. Her father had died young, and she was raised by her mother in her uncle’s household. That uncle had once been a bodyguard, traveling far and wide, known for his righteousness and respected in Linzhou. But fate was unkind—he had recently lost the use of his legs, becoming a cripple.
Though her family’s standing was modest, Luo Xinci’s betrothed had gone to the capital for the imperial examinations last year and won second place. By year’s end, when they married, she would be the wife of an official. Her background was not so poor after all. Besides, she and Ming Niansheng had been kindred spirits from the start, often going out together, with the old lady’s approval.
Zhou Lin ordered the carriage to halt and approached the carved window to inquire.
From within came two soft coughs, followed by Ming Niansheng’s hoarse voice: “Yes, I promised earlier to deliver a letter for her to the capital.”
The carriage door opened. Supported by her maid, Ming Niansheng stepped down. As her foot touched the ground, a warm gust blew, and she covered her lips, coughing violently. Her maid, Lianxing, scolded herself in dismay: “Miss’s chill has not healed—she mustn’t face the wind! How could I forget?” She hurried back into the carriage to fetch a veil.
The veil was broad, its heavy gauze shielding Ming Niansheng from head to calf. Only then did her coughing subside. She turned to Zhou Lin and said, “I will speak with her for a moment, Commander Zhou… cough, cough…” Her coughing resumed, the gauze trembling with each breath.
Ming Niansheng’s mother had been a maid; her own status was naturally low. At four, she had been sent to Linzhou with the old lady, to fulfill filial duty on behalf of her father. At sixteen, she was again dispatched to the capital, to visit a father she had scarcely met. In truth, she was nothing more than a pawn, used by this stepmother and son to preserve appearances.
Zhou Lin thought: if Ming Niansheng had a choice, she would surely not wish to return to the Marquis’s household. As her ragged coughs tore the air, he felt a pang of sympathy for the young lady of the house. Gently he said, “Miss, your throat is unwell. No need to speak much—go ahead.”
She bowed politely beneath the veil, then raised a hand: first to Lianxing, then to herself, and finally toward Luo Xinci by the lake.
Lianxing guessed: “Miss means she will go herself to speak with Miss Luo, while I wait here?”
The veil quivered faintly—Ming Niansheng was nodding.
“Very well, I shall wait here,” Lianxing said. “Miss, take care not to catch the wind…”
Zhou Lin watched Ming Niansheng walk toward the boat, exchange a few words with Luo Xinci, and then, hand in hand, enter the cabin. He ordered the guards to rest and wait.
Inside the cabin, the two young women stepped in—one turned to shut the door, the other swiftly removed her veiled hat.
By the time Luo Xinci turned back, Ming Niansheng had already loosened her outer robe.
Drawn into her companion’s urgency, Luo Xinci quickly followed suit, unfastening her own gown.
In no time, the two had exchanged every piece of clothing and ornament from head to toe.
Ming Niansheng placed the gauze hat upon Luo Xinci’s head, circled her with a scrutinizing gaze, and affirmed: “Perfect! As long as you don’t speak or show your face, no one will ever know.”
Lifting a corner of the veil, Luo Xinci lowered her eyes to examine the attire she now wore. “You truly won’t return to the Marquis’s household?” she asked.
“Never!” Ming Niansheng shook her head violently. “I’d rather die than go back!”
Her mother had once been a maid in the Marquis Wuling’s residence. Dragged drunkenly into his bed, she became his only concubine—and the thorn between him and Princess Shao’an.
The mother and daughter survived at first thanks to the princess’s magnanimity, and later only because of the old madam. Their sole purpose was to accompany the Marquis to Linzhou and fulfill his filial duties.
“He will kill you,” Luo Xinci warned.
Though her mother had long since passed, Ming Niansheng still remembered her childhood admonitions: she was the Marquis’s stain, a living disgrace, and must never appear before him—even if it meant death. The fear instilled by that lofty father had shadowed her entire youth. She loathed him, and she trembled before him.
“This journey to the capital,” Ming Niansheng said, “I can’t promise much else. But rest assured—I go only to visit him on Grandmother’s behalf. He needs me to show filial piety. He won’t kill me.”
“And afterward?” Luo Xinci pressed. “Suppose all goes well…”
“I’ll wait for you on your return to the capital. Just as today, we’ll quietly exchange clothes, hidden beneath the stars—no one will know. Besides, Grandmother is already choosing a match for me, all families near Linzhou. If things go smoothly, I’ll be married by year’s end. Once married, my ties to the Marquis’s household will fade further. As long as my cheap father and his wife don’t come to Linzhou themselves, I can keep them fooled. No one will ever find out…”
“I mean my family,” Luo Xinci reminded her. “You’ll be hiding in my home.”
Since Luo Xinci was taking her place in the capital, Ming Niansheng could not remain in Linzhou. The safest refuge was the Luo household.
But the Luo household was far from safe. At year’s end, Luo Xinci’s mother caught a chill. Three prescriptions nearly cost her life. After consulting five different physicians, they discovered that some incompatible drug had been slipped into her medicine. Luckily, the dosage was small, and her life was spared. After the new year, her uncle and aunt took her cousin out riding. A horse went mad—her aunt’s arm was broken, her uncle’s legs shattered. Later, her elder cousin was harassed by local thugs. In the struggle, he injured one of them and was thrown into prison.
Of the entire household, only Luo Xinci remained at home to care for her mother, spared from disaster. At first, she thought these three misfortunes were mere coincidence—until half a month ago, when she overheard a drunk thug boasting that he had acted under orders from a powerful noble in the capital.
Luo Xinci had grown up with her uncle’s family. To her, her cousin was no different from a blood brother. If her cousin truly brought misfortune upon himself, then prison would be his due. But once signs proved he had been framed, Luo Xinci could not endure it.
Of the six members of the Luo household, all but the youngest cousin were either sick or injured. With no one else to turn to, Luo Xinci—just a young woman—had no choice but to seek help from her close friend, Ming Niansheng.
Ming Niansheng, after all, was the Marquis’s daughter. The prefect, fearful of the Marquis Wuling’s power, ordered the case to be reinvestigated, and her cousin’s innocence was restored. By then, every incident—the poisoned medicine for her mother, the maddened horse that harmed her uncle and aunt, and the false charges against her cousin—pointed to deliberate sabotage. Someone wanted her entire family dead.
Luo Xinci thought to trace the thug back to the mastermind. But the moment the idea arose, the thug suddenly died of a “mysterious illness.” Her only clue was that the enemy came from the capital, wielding both power and influence. Among the Luo family, only her uncle had once escorted caravans to the capital—but that was more than ten years ago. If he had made enemies then, why wait until now to strike?
Beyond that, the Luo family’s ties to the capital were limited to Luo Xinci’s father—who had abandoned wife and child sixteen years ago—and her betrothed, a scholar who had placed second in the imperial exams. After his success, her fiancé had written, promising that once he settled affairs in the capital, he would return in autumn to marry her. Years earlier, her father had spoken similar words to her mother: “Once I’ve arranged matters in the capital, I’ll come back for you.” He did return—but only to take away his own mother, leaving behind a hundred taels of silver, a divorce letter, and Luo Shang, pregnant and abandoned.
Neither father nor fiancé could be trusted. Now, Luo Xinci alone remained whole and unscathed. She could not sit and wait for death. She longed to go to the capital to uncover the truth, yet she knew she had no allies. Even if she found the culprit, she lacked the strength to oppose him—and might well die nameless in the capital. Her heart heavy with grief, she dared not confide in her family. Only Ming Niansheng heard her secret despair.
At that very moment, Ming Niansheng herself was ordered by her grandmother to enter the capital, nearly frightened out of her wits.
One girl wished to go but had no backing; the other dreaded her father yet was forced to go. After pouring out their troubles, Ming Niansheng’s mind stirred—she boldly proposed they exchange identities.
In this way, Ming Niansheng would avoid facing her terrifying father, while Luo Xinci, under the guise of a Marquis’s daughter, would not be so easily slain. And whoever the hidden enemy was, since he chose to strike from the shadows rather than openly massacre, it meant he did not wish to stir public scandal. Thus, even if he recognized Luo Xinci, he would not dare expose her.
The plan sounded feasible. Yet upon closer thought, if even one step went awry, both Luo Xinci and Ming Niansheng would be condemned as criminals.
Luo Xinci refused the proposal. What changed her mind was a small incident five days ago.
It was a quiet afternoon. Luo Xinci, troubled by thoughts of the hidden enemy, suddenly heard her four‑year‑old cousin crying uncontrollably. When she went to check, she discovered the child had tried to wake her uncle from his nap. He slept too deeply, and the little girl thought he had died—she burst into tears on the spot. Everyone found it both ridiculous and pitiful.
Luo Xinci laughed as well. But as she laughed, tears began to fall. Her little cousin had been frightened by that accident.
At that moment, Luo Xinci secretly resolved to settle the matter as soon as possible—thus leading to today’s scene upon the tranquil lake.
Ming Niansheng, knowing Luo Xinci feared danger might befall her at the Luo household, said: “Don’t worry. Just the other day I used Grandmother’s name to warn the prefect. At least for the next few months, he will take special care of your family. Nothing will happen.”
But Luo Xinci felt that with her family in peril, exchanging identities with Ming Niansheng would drag her friend into wrongdoing.
Ming Niansheng, for her part, found her own situation equally unbearable. She was a low-born daughter raised in remote Linzhou, the unintended result of Marquis Wuling’s drunken mistake. In Linzhou she could borrow the Marquis’s name to intimidate the prefect, but once back in the capital she would have neither backing nor status. Beyond food and clothing, beyond mere survival, she had no idea what attitude her father, stepmother, or legitimate brother would take toward her, nor what awaited her upon her return.
In truth, exchanging identities was hardly a bargain for either of them.
The two girls looked at each other, both faces clouded with unease.
After a moment of silence, Luo Xinci said softly: “Please help me apologize to my uncle and aunt. Tell them they needn’t worry about me…”
Ming Niansheng agreed to everything, then cautioned: “My father despises me and pays me no heed—avoid him as much as you can. My stepmother doesn’t meddle; as long as you don’t provoke her, she shouldn’t trouble you. And there’s also a legitimate brother… I’ve barely spoken to him.”
Years away from the capital left Ming Niansheng with only these fragments to offer. Yet that was not entirely a bad thing. Her ignorance of the Marquis’s household meant they knew little of her as well—making Luo Xinci’s disguise all the more convincing.
Bolstering each other’s courage, they checked their exchanged attire once more. Ming Niansheng nodded; Luo Xinci drew a deep breath. She lowered the gauze veil over her face and stepped out of the cabin, raising her hand to signal Lianxing in the distance.
Lianxing hurried forward to support her.
Zhou Lin, seeing this, ordered the guards to be alert. When Lianxing brought her near, he asked: “Miss, if there’s nothing else, shall we depart?”
The gauze veil brushed against the peony-patterned skirt, swaying lightly.
Zhou Lin glanced at Lianxing. She tightened her grip on Luo Xinci’s hand and replied: “Miss says there’s nothing more. We may set out.”
For some reason, Zhou Lin felt her tone was a little odd. He looked again at “Ming Niansheng,” already being helped into the carriage. Trusting his instincts, he turned back and glimpsed, behind the boat’s gauze curtain, a figure in blue robes lingering as if reluctant to part.
The bond between the Second Young Lady and the Luo girl was truly deep.
Moved by the thought, Zhou Lin mounted his horse and led the party toward the capital.