Madam Qin felt her heart soften with Ming Lan’s complete dependence, holding her even tighter in her embrace.
Outside the carriage, the bustling scenery of Yangzhou City unfolded like a scroll. The earlier trivial conflict seemed like a pebble tossed into a lake—once the ripples faded, only the serene intimacy of mother and daughter remained.
Madam Qin had made this journey to congratulate a distant cousin who had married into Yangzhou on the birth of her child. The cousin had been close to her since childhood, and after the full-month banquet, she had warmly insisted they stay longer, so Madam Qin had brought Ming Lan along for a few extra days.
Over the past several days, Madam Qin had either taken Ming Lan to visit gardens or gone to famous temples to pray for blessings, passing the time in leisurely comfort.
Until this afternoon, when mother and daughter were returning from a temple, the weather turned against them. The drizzling rain suddenly intensified, and the roads became muddy and difficult to traverse.
As the carriage reached the entrance of an alley, there was a dull “crack,” and the carriage tilted sharply before coming to an abrupt halt—the wheel, unable to bear the strain on the slippery, bumping bluestone road, had suddenly broken its axle.
No matter how anxiously the coachman urged the horses, the carriage remained immobile, unable to advance even half a step further.
Mama Xiang, who was accompanying them, was growing anxious when she noticed the side gate of a nearby residence creak open. An elderly maidservant, dressed respectably and with a composed demeanor, emerged to see off a guest. Spotting the lavishly decorated yet stranded carriage, she approached and inquired respectfully yet tactfully, “Greetings, esteemed guests. Is your carriage in difficulty? May we offer assistance?”
Inside the carriage, Madam Qin frowned slightly. She had never been fond of interacting with unfamiliar official households, as it often invited unnecessary trouble. Her original intention for this southern journey had been to seek tranquility, and she truly did not wish for complications.
But as the rain grew heavier and the sky darker, staying trapped here was no solution. Moreover, she feared the damp chill might startle Sister Yi. Raising her voice slightly, she maintained the dignity of a Marquise: “Thank you for your concern, Mama. The carriage has encountered a minor inconvenience. May I inquire which esteemed household this is?”
“In reply, Madam,” the elderly maidservant outside the gate answered, “my master’s surname is Sheng, and he serves as the Assistant Prefect of Yangzhou.”
Sheng?!
That single, simple word was like a stone dropped into an ancient well, suddenly stirring up a tempest in Ming Lan’s seemingly calm heart!
The Sheng Family?! Assistant Prefect Sheng Hong of Yangzhou?!
She jerked her head up, momentarily forgetting to conceal her reaction. Her sharp gaze pierced through the gap in the carriage curtain, trying to glimpse the scene inside the gate. Her heart pounded like a drum within her small chest, almost leaping out of her throat.
Yes, yes! In her previous life, her father had indeed been serving in Yangzhou at this time! She had thought she had left all past entanglements far behind, yet fate had unexpectedly thrust her back to the very starting point of it all in this sudden, unforeseen manner!
Madam Qin keenly sensed the stiffness in her daughter’s body and looked down to see Sister Yi’s clear, bright eyes wide open, filled with an incomprehensible shock and… panic?
Assuming her daughter was merely startled by being stranded and encountering strangers, Madam Qin felt even more tenderly protective. She held her closer, trying to dispel her unease. She pondered for a moment.
The Sheng Family? She vaguely recalled such a family of upright officials, with a decent reputation. If memory served, their elderly matriarch had once been the only daughter of the Yongyi Marquisate. She seemed to recall her mother mentioning it during her childhood in the inner chambers… Very well. Since they had encountered each other and the other party had offered goodwill, it would not do to be overly distant.
"It is the Sheng Residence," Madam Qin's tone softened slightly. "In that case, we shall trouble you."
"You are too kind, Madam. Please, come in quickly." The elderly maidservant handled matters with great efficiency. Soon, servants emerged with wooden planks and other tools to fill the potholes and free the carriage, while others guided the Marquisate's carriage through the side gate to take shelter from the storm.
An elderly lady with silver hair, leaning on a sandalwood cane and supported by a maid, stood beneath the corridor to welcome them. She wore a stone-lotus brown Hangzhou satin jacket, its patterns understated, with a glimpse of snow-white lining visible at the collar and cuffs. Her attire bore no excessive ornamentation, save for a single translucent jade hairpin in her hair, which only accentuated her serene and dignified presence—a composure and authority honed through genuine wealth and life's trials.
Her posture was upright, free from the stoop common among elderly women. Her gaze was clear and kindly, her lips curved in a proper, gentle smile. This was none other than Old Madam Sheng, the daughter of the Yongyi Marquisate and now the steadfast pillar of the Sheng Family.
Madam Qin descended from the carriage with Ming Lan, adjusted her attire and hairpins slightly, and stepped forward to greet her. "Greetings, Old Madam. We are deeply sorry to have troubled you to come out."
"Please, Marquise, there is no need for such formalities. It was merely a small effort. The storm is fierce—please come inside for a cup of hot tea to ward off the chill." Old Madam Sheng's voice was gentle, yet carried a calm, unhurried strength that put others at ease.
When her gaze fell upon the exquisitely delicate yet unusually composed little girl beside Madam Qin, her smile grew more genuine, and a faint trace of surprise and affection flickered in her eyes. "This must be the young lady of your household? What a lovely child. Just looking at her brings joy to the heart."
Ming Lan had just turned five, her eyes clear yet seeming to hold an understanding far beyond her years, which inexplicably drew Old Madam Sheng to her.
Ming Lan lowered her eyelashes with effort and, following etiquette, greeted in her childish voice, "Ying'er pays her respects to Old Madam." Yet, her small hands hidden in her sleeves were already slightly damp with sweat.
In that brief moment of raising and lowering her gaze, a torrent of emotions surged through her heart… This elderly lady before her had been the sole light and warmth in her bleak childhood of her past life.
Now, that deep-seated affection and closeness, rooted in the depths of her soul, rushed forth, nearly overwhelming her.
She could only strive to restrain herself, forcing the flood of gratitude and sorrow deep into the recesses of her heart.
Ming Lan was grateful for all the love and guidance her grandmother had given her in her past life. Those words were like maxims engraved upon her soul, accompanying her through countless difficult years.
And in this life, though their reunion was sudden, it felt as though a profound bond still connected them, making her yearn to draw just a little closer, to absorb the warmth and strength she remembered.
Madam Qin gently patted her daughter's shoulder and said with a soft smile, "You flatter her, Old Madam. My little Tingying is young and mischievous—she hardly deserves such praise."
Feeling the warmth of her mother's palm, Ming Lan nestled closer to her side. This small gesture both concealed her emotional turmoil and displayed the dependency befitting her age.
She quietly took a deep breath, forcing back the tears that threatened to spill, yet she couldn't help stealing another glance at Old Madam Sheng from the corner of her eye—a gaze filled with an attachment she herself was unaware of.
This courtyard, this atmosphere, though different from the Sheng Residence she remembered in the capital, still stirred the deepest sorrow and complexity within her heart…
Seated in the flower hall, the fragrance of tea drifted gently in the air.
Amidst the pleasantries, faint yet sharp scolding sounds of a woman drifted from the rear courtyard, seemingly reprimanding and beating a servant, occasionally mixed with low sobs and pleas for mercy.
That voice… it was Xue Niang, the cunning and opportunistic maid by Lin Qinshuang’s side, who excelled at flattering the powerful and trampling the weak!
Fragmented memories from her past life flooded her mind—the withheld allowances, the covert harassment, the lingering sorrow that led to her birth mother Madam Wei’s untimely death—making it almost impossible for her to maintain her composure.
Instinctively, she leaned ever so slightly closer to Madam Qin, seeking a sliver of refuge. Only the warm embrace behind her offered solace in this moment.
Madam Qin immediately sensed her daughter’s subtle fear and dependence. Without drawing attention, she drew Ming Lan into her arms, enveloping the girl’s cold little hands with her warm palms. Lifting her teacup, she spoke with a tone as casual as if discussing everyday matters: "Your household seems rather busy today?"
A faint trace of embarrassment and helplessness flickered across Old Madam Sheng’s face before she smiled and replied, "Please forgive the disturbance. It’s merely some unruly servants quarreling. I’ve already sent someone to discipline them, lest they disturb our esteemed guests."
Just then, outside the hall along the corridor, a graceful woman dressed in plain, slightly worn clothing hurried past with her head bowed, seemingly eager to avoid the gaze from within the hall.
The woman’s figure was slender, her brow shadowed by an unshakable layer of sorrow and fear, like a startled sparrow. Though it was only a fleeting glimpse, and though her profile appeared frail and weary, Ming Lan’s breath caught completely in that moment!
Madam Wei!
It was her birth mother, Madam Wei!
Mother!!
Blood seemed to rush to her head in an instant, only to drain away just as quickly the next second. She clenched her teeth, biting hard into the soft flesh inside her mouth, using the sharp pain to hold back the tears that threatened to spill. Forcing herself to lower her head, she stared fixedly at the delicate embroidery on her skirt, her small body trembling faintly beneath her wide sleeves.
It was her… it truly was her… Mother was still alive, yet she lived in constant fear, so utterly abject…