Luo Xinci was caught off guard by this sudden turn of events. She urgently needed to escape, rethink her predicament, and decide on her next move. But Ming Yuhe hadn’t given her leave to go, and she dared not move. She stole a cautious glance at him.
Catching her furtive look, Ming Yuhe stopped twirling the dagger in his hand and smiled. “Sneaking a look at your elder brother? You’re already a grown young lady—why are you still the same as when you were a child?”
His tone was intimate, and Luo Xinci’s heart raced with panic. Hadn’t Niansheng said that back in the Marquis’s household she was timid as a quail, never daring to look around? That even at four years old she still didn’t know what her elder brother looked like?
Unaware of their past as siblings, Luo Xinci dared not respond. She lowered her lashes in silence. If Ming Yuhe permitted it, she would gladly shut her eyes altogether and never look at anything in this courtyard again.
But that was clearly impossible.
Ming Yuhe said, “Just now you claimed that even without today’s events, you would have struck at Father. Yet as far as I know, Grandmother only ever had you taught music, chess, calligraphy, and painting. You’ve not the strength to kill a chicken—how would you strike?”
Before Luo Xinci could answer, he tapped the table and continued, “Come sit here. Tell your brother in detail.”
Across the desk stood another grand armchair.
Luo Xinci guessed he didn’t believe her earlier words. If she wanted to survive, she had to stand firmly on his side. She must make her position clearer, prove her resolve to kill Marquis Wuling, and show that she had a plan. It had been barely half a month since she resolved to become a villain. She hadn’t even managed two wicked deeds before she was forced to plot murder—quite a leap.
Her mind was in turmoil. Unable to think of a fitting scheme on the spot, she could only obey Ming Yuhe’s command and move to sit down. She and Ming Yuhe were separated by a corpse. To get closer, she would either have to go around it or step over it.
Luo Xinci was about to turn aside, but then, recalling Ming Yuhe’s attitude toward Marquis Wuling, she silently repented and turned back toward the body. She lifted her foot.
Ming Yuhe let out a sigh. “Your elder brother only killed Father, and yet you would step over his corpse… Niansheng, what exactly have you learned in Linzhou?”
Luo Xinci: “…”
She swallowed her retort. Drawing her foot back, she flushed red and quickly walked around.
This man was not easy to deceive, and he was cruel—far beyond what she could handle. Perhaps only the mastermind who had tried several times to wipe out the Luo family could stand against him.
At that thought, Luo Xinci suddenly found her answer. She raised her eyes and said calmly, “I had planned to add certain conflicting herbs into Father’s medicinal decoction. Brother may not know—herbs like hellebore, ginseng, and aconite, when used alone, can heal. But mixed together, they become poison. Taken over time, they silently weaken the organs until death follows.” Just as her mother had suffered.
Afterward, Luo Xinci had gone to the clinic to demand accountability. They denied it, claiming her family’s meddling—adding ginseng fragments themselves—had turned the medicine toxic.
With no proof, Luo Xinci had been forced to swallow the bitter loss. She never imagined that tragedy at home would now serve to shield her. Having found her answer, she no longer shrank back. To prove she had long harbored murderous intent toward the Marquis, she offered a second scheme: “One could also tamper with Father’s horse feed. If fortune turned against him, he might be trampled to death by a maddened steed.”
That day, her uncle had shielded her aunt and cousin, losing only his legs—a miracle in itself. Another time, all three might not survive.
Half a month had passed since Luo Xinci left home. Alone in the capital, with no kin, forced to face the horror of patricide and the threat to her own life, she suddenly thought of her family. Longing and loneliness sprouted, growing into a towering tree that pressed painfully against her chest. But one must bear the consequences of one’s choices.
She suppressed her sorrow, looked at Ming Yuhe, and, seeing no response, assumed her words had failed to satisfy him. So she continued: “There is also the option of bribing reckless thugs…” Her emotions she could restrain, but her voice unconsciously dropped lower.
Ming Yuhe caught the faint sadness in her tone. He raised his brows slightly, waiting impassively for her to go on.
“…to attack him in the street. Such a crime would violate the law, and escape would be impossible…”
Ordinary men would face prison for such deeds. But for Marquis Wuling, perhaps things would be different.
Luo Xinci had barely begun when she realized this plan would not work against the Marquis. She stopped abruptly and looked at Ming Yuhe.
He was watching her too, his gaze deep, his face calm, his thoughts unreadable.
Luo Xinci was not skilled at enduring such eye contact. She glanced away, cautiously trying to divert his attention. “The third method may not be feasible, but the first two… I believe they would be effective. What does Brother think?”
Ming Yuhe did not offer an opinion. Instead, he asked, “Who taught you this?”
If she claimed it was Ming Niansheng’s tutor in Linzhou or the old madam, she would be tarnishing their reputations. Worse, if Ming Yuhe grew suspicious and sent someone to investigate, the lie would be exposed, and he might retaliate even more harshly.
She could say it was her aunt who taught her—after all, the woman was dead and could not refute it. But that aunt had been a pitiable girl, and she was also Niansheng’s mother.
Luo Xinci’s thoughts rose and fell. At last she said, “I figured it out myself.”
After a pause, remembering the resolve she had made before entering the capital, she added firmly: “If one does not act for oneself, heaven and earth will destroy them. I am not some soft‑hearted person.”
Just like you. That last thought she kept hidden, unsaid.
“That does sound rather like me,” Ming Yuhe replied in her stead.
Luo Xinci glanced at him but held her tongue.
He continued, “With so many plans ready to be carried out, have you considered what consequences Father’s death would bring?”
Her schemes were all borrowed at the last moment from others—she had no time to think of consequences. She was still racing through half‑formed thoughts when a knock came at the door.
A guard announced, “Young Marquis, the Princess requests your presence.”
Ming Yuhe gave a lazy “Mm,” leaned back, and said to Luo Xinci, “That’s enough. Go back.”
It was like a pardon from heaven. Luo Xinci rose quickly, said, “Your younger sister takes her leave,” and hurried toward the door. Then, thinking better of it, she closed her eyes and bowed respectfully to the corpse of Marquis Wuling before swiftly exiting the study.
Once her figure had vanished, Ming Yuhe cast a glance at the body and ordered a guard, “Fetch Steward Tang.”
The steward arrived promptly. Ming Yuhe was at the window, reviewing documents, with sunlight streaming through the wide panes and magnolia blossoms swaying gracefully outside.
Without waiting to be greeted, Steward Tang dropped to his knees and confessed: “Young Marquis, please discern the truth. On the second young lady’s first day in the residence, I instructed her she was only permitted to walk within Yunshang Pavilion. Today’s incident was entirely the doing of Young Master Jiang Liyang, who acted on his own to vent the Princess’s anger. It had nothing to do with me!”
In recent years, the Marquis’s health had steadily declined, and affairs of the household had gradually passed into the Young Marquis’s hands. The steward, once indispensable, had been steadily replaced, now relegated to trivial duties—receiving the unwelcome second young lady, escorting the old madam’s guards, and the like.
The fledgling phoenix sings clearer than the old. A son replacing his father was only a matter of time.
Once Steward Tang realized the master of the household had changed, he tucked his tail between his legs, no longer hoping for favor, only striving not to make mistakes that would see him punished. Everything had gone smoothly—until today, when he learned that the second young lady from that remote area had been summoned to the main study.
The Marquis’s study had never permitted any women to enter. Even Princess Shao’an was no exception.
After questioning two maids, Steward Tang uncovered the truth: Jiang Liyang had falsely conveyed the Marquis’s orders to trick “Ming Niansheng” into coming.
Prince Ning’s household was sparse. Apart from Princess Shao’an, who had married into Marquis Wuling’s residence, there remained only two younger sons.
The elder son was the same age as Ming Yuhe and had already inherited his title. The younger, Jiang Liyang, was reckless and impulsive, often causing trouble.
Steward Tang explained hurriedly: “Young Master Liyang has always revered the Princess. Unable to bear seeing her slighted, he secretly used one of her maids to trick the Second Young Lady into coming here. The Marquis, upon finding her intruding into his study, would surely fly into a rage and perhaps send her back to Linzhou. That way, the Princess would regain her peace…”
By rights, events should have unfolded that way. Yet judging from the present situation, it seemed the Second Young Lady had encountered the Young Marquis in the study, not the Marquis himself.
Steward Tang could not make sense of it, nor did he have the time—he only kept kowtowing and begging forgiveness. What he did not know was that, once Luo Xinci’s intrusion had been discovered, the guards had already uncovered the truth—otherwise Ming Yuhe would never have let her go so easily. His questioning of Steward Tang had another purpose.
“All the guards from Linzhou have returned?”
“Yes. In total, twenty‑one guards and five maids. Apart from Lianxing, who serves the Second Young Lady closely, all departed this morning.”
Though unsure why Ming Yuhe asked, Steward Tang answered as thoroughly as he could: “This servant had intended for Zhou Lin to remain longer, but the young lady was anxious for the old madam’s safety and pressed for their early return.”
Only one remained.
Ming Yuhe noted this detail, pondered briefly, then asked, “What is special about this Lianxing?”
Steward Tang replied: “Four years ago, when I was ordered to Linzhou to deliver birthday congratulations to the old madam, I saw that girl. They said she had fled there in her youth and was purchased by the young lady. She has accompanied her for seven years.”
A life‑saving bond, seven years long.
Ming Yuhe lifted his chin slightly, signaling him to continue.
But Steward Tang had no idea what he wished to hear. He knew little of this minor maid, so he could only recount what he had observed in recent days.
“The young lady and Lianxing are deeply attached. On the journey, when the young lady was frail and unable to speak, she allowed only Lianxing to remain constantly at her side, caring for her and conveying her meaning. The young lady also defends her fiercely. On the day she arrived, this servant intended to scold the girl for neglecting her duties, but before I could speak, the young lady stopped me…”
Piece by piece, he repeated all that had happened since Luo Xinci’s arrival. With nothing more to add, Steward Tang finally dared to lift his head. Seeing Ming Yuhe’s expression unchanged, panic seized him, and he forced out a few more words.
“Four years ago, when I went to Linzhou, I saw the young lady. She was still very young then, yet already gentle and sensible—respectful and considerate toward the old madam, never asking what she shouldn’t, never daring to intrude into the Marquis’s study…”
“Leave.”
Steward Tang hurriedly withdrew from the main hall.
Inside the study, Ming Yuhe rubbed his fingertips in thought for a moment. A guard’s voice came from outside: “Shall I summon Zhou Lin back?”
Luo Xinci drifted back to Yunshang Pavilion as if in a dream. After dismissing the Marquis’s maids, she slumped weakly onto the soft couch.
Lianxing, noticing her pallor at once, quickly offered warm water and asked with concern: “Miss, what happened? Did the Marquis scold you? Don’t be afraid—you came on the old madam’s behalf. Even if you made a mistake, he wouldn’t trouble you too much.”
Luo Xinci leaned against a pillow, shaking her head faintly, eyes closed.
Ming Yuhe would never admit to killing Marquis Wuling. He would surely disguise it as an accident or an assassin’s strike. Knowing the truth placed her in danger. She dared not involve Lianxing, so she kept silent.
Unaware of what had transpired in the study, Lianxing assumed her mistress had been frightened by the Marquis. After serving her tea and offering a few words of comfort, she whispered: “Miss, do you remember the young gentleman we saw at Zhaixing Pavilion? That was Jiang Liyang—he should call Princess Shao’an his aunt.”
On their way back from the main hall, they had glimpsed a handsome youth. From the upper floor, he had looked down at them, sneered, and turned away.
At the time, Luo Xinci had been too unsettled to wonder who he was. Even now, she had no energy to spare for such irrelevant matters.
“Miss, in truth, the Marquis never summoned you at all.”
Luo Xinci’s muddled thoughts cleared for a moment. She opened her eyes and looked at Lianxing in question.
Ashamed, Lianxing confessed: “While I waited outside, I saw another steward. He scolded me, saying the Marquis’s study has never permitted women to enter…”
Luo Xinci froze, realization dawning. Today’s incident had been a trap—someone had deliberately lured her there, hoping she would touch the Marquis’s forbidden scale and earn his hatred. Or perhaps that she would stumble upon the murder in the study and be killed alongside Ming Yuhe.
If Princess Shao’an had wanted to make things difficult for her, she could have done so on the very first day she entered the residence—there was no need to wait until now. Nor could it have been the Marquis and his son, whose secret she had stumbled upon by accident…
She had only been in the household for three days, and today was the first time she had stepped outside Yunshang Pavilion. By rights, she should not have offended anyone.
“Jiang Liyang.” He was, so far, the only one who had shown her open malice.
Lianxing exclaimed, “That’s very possible! At noon I even saw the cook prepare special dishes for Young Master Jiang. It seems he is very close to Princess Shao’an and the Young Marquis—perhaps he wanted to humiliate you on their behalf!”
That wretched Jiang Liyang! Luo Xinci ground her teeth in hatred.
But what use was it to know Jiang Liyang was behind it? He had brazenly used the Marquis’s maids to deliver false orders, acting with complete impunity. She, an unwanted illegitimate daughter, even if she realized she had been tricked, had no way to fight back. Fortunately, Ming Yuhe had been deceived by her.
Luo Xinci collapsed back onto the couch, drained. After calming herself, she carefully recalled the day’s events.
Ming Yuhe had let her go so easily—he must have believed her lies, at least for now. That matter could be set aside. Next, she needed to find a way to send word to Ming Niansheng.
To be honest, Marquis Wuling’s life or death had nothing to do with Luo Xinci. Even if the news reached Ming Niansheng herself, she would at most be surprised—and then laugh heartily. After all, he was her father. Ming Niansheng had to be told in time. But how should the letter be written?
That her elder brother had killed their father, that “she” had stepped forward to kick the corpse, and even declared she had come to the capital with the intent to murder her own parent? Ming Niansheng would be terrified out of her wits. Finding a way to inform her was a problem. In a place where she knew no one, unable even to leave the residence, sending a letter was another difficulty altogether.
And beyond that—once Marquis Wuling’s death was revealed, this “cheap daughter” would be expected to keep vigil at his funeral. Such delays meant she had no idea when she could leave the household to search for her birth father and Zhou Yi.
Luo Xinci carried this enormous secret with no one to confide in. Distraught, she waited three days, yet the household remained tranquil, with not the slightest whisper of the Marquis’s death.
She was beginning to grow anxious on Ming Yuhe’s behalf. It was only early spring now—if it were summer, with the body left unburied for so long, it would already be rotting…
On the fourth evening, Steward Tang arrived with a cheerful smile.
“Miss, the Princess has come out of the Buddha Hall today. She invites you to join her for supper—a family reunion.” From the moment he first met Luo Xinci, his manner had been cordial. But today, beyond friendliness, there was a trace of respect.
Luo Xinci, however, had no time to dwell on his change in tone. Her thoughts were caught on the words “family reunion.” Whether she was truly Ming Niansheng or not, the only way this household could be reunited was in the underworld…
So many days had passed, yet no news of the Marquis’s death had spread. She had no idea what Ming Yuhe was planning.
Curiosity was natural. And at present, Luo Xinci had no choice but to take things one step at a time. After washing and changing, she followed Steward Tang to the dining hall.
He was unlikely to play tricks on her the way Jiang Liyang had. Still, Luo Xinci had learned her lesson. This time, she did not step inside immediately, but paused outside to confirm solemnly: “This time, it truly is the Princess who summoned me, isn’t it?”
“Heh.” Steward Tang gave a dry laugh and gestured toward the maids carrying trays of food back and forth under the corridor.
At that moment, an older matron stepped out from the dining hall. Seeing Luo Xinci, she frowned and said coldly, “Second Young Lady, since you’ve arrived, go in quickly. Don’t keep the Princess waiting.” With that, she turned and left.
Her manner left no doubt—she was one of Princess Shao’an’s attendants.
Luo Xinci straightened her expression, hastily checked her dress, and hurried in after her.
The Marquis’s dining hall was more spacious than the main hall of an ordinary household. Passing a painted screen of mountains and rivers, the matron lifted the curtain, and Luo Xinci lowered her head to enter.
Mindful of her lowly status, she kept her posture humble to avoid further trouble. Once inside, she cast only a fleeting glance to confirm her bearings, then bowed toward the round table.
With the Marquis gone, the most honored person in the household was now Princess Shao’an.
She bent low, using the tone she had rehearsed many times, and said obediently, “Niansheng greets Mother and wishes her well.” She did not rise after speaking, but slowly lifted her lashes, waiting for the Princess to bid her stand. Yet in that instant, she glimpsed three people seated around the round dining table.
Three? Her gaze rose instinctively, and she saw them clearly. One was her legitimate elder brother, whom she had met once before. Another was a stately middle‑aged woman, elegant yet cold, like a carved jade statue. Both were expected. But in the main seat sat a middle‑aged man, tall, with a fine beard, scholarly features, and a stern expression. He was staring at Luo Xinci without a word.
He looked familiar.
Luo Xinci froze, belatedly recalling she had seen him only days ago.
Marquis Wuling!
Her eyes flew wide, her heart nearly stopping. Hadn’t the Marquis already died? When she left, his body had scarcely cooled! Back from the dead?
Impossible. With a gaping wound in his neck and blood flooding the floor, not even a god could have saved him. Or… had the man she saw before not been the Marquis at all?
But she had heard him clearly declare himself Marquis Wuling, and Ming Yuhe had acknowledged it, calling him “Father” again and again. She had heard every word!
And if the one who died that day was not the Marquis, then what of the bold claims she had made before Ming Yuhe?
Luo Xinci stood dazed at the curtain, her mind racing back through the scene in the study, replaying it in fragments. Stiffly, she turned toward Ming Yuhe.
Under her trembling gaze, Ming Yuhe slowly curved his lips into a smile. “Why so surprised? Niansheng—do you not recognize your father, or have you forgotten your mother?”
Luo Xinci: “…”