The northbound official road had turned muddy under the continuous autumn rain, slowing the procession from the Ningyuan Marquis Estate…
At noon that day, as the rain eased slightly, the convoy halted beside a post station to rest.
Damp firewood crackled in a makeshift stove chamber, boiling ginger tea to ward off the chill. Steam rose in wisps, blurring the surrounding scenery.
Having been cooped up in the carriage for too long, Ming Lan spotted a rare and beautiful butterfly trembling as it settled on a rain-drenched wild chrysanthemum not far away.
Over the past few years, Ming Lan had grown mostly accustomed to her new body, and she hardly gave off any mannerisms or behavior that seemed incongruous for a child. After a moment’s thought, she lifted her skirt and quietly slipped out of the carriage to chase the butterfly.
The butterfly was agile, leading her in twists and turns until she found herself near the rear of the convoy, where several carts loaded with trunks and baskets and miscellaneous items were parked.
Just as she held her breath and crept closer, a hushed yet clear whisper drifted from the narrow gap between two carts…
“…That Bai family is nothing but a fallen house now, just an empty shell, yet they still harbor a deep-seated hatred for him. All we need to do is send someone to drop a hint, suggesting that a powerful figure in the capital has taken a dislike to him, and promise them some of the fields and shops that the boy still holds once the deed is done… They’ll swarm like flies drawn to blood…”
It was Mama Xiang’s voice!
Alarm bells rang in Ming Lan’s mind. She immediately ducked behind a flatbed cart piled high with felt blankets, holding her breath.
Another low male voice responded, tinged with obsequiousness and malice:
“Rest assured, Mama. Everything has been arranged on that end. We’ve contacted Third Master Bai—he’s desperate for silver and will surely make a disgraceful scene… We’ll make sure Second Master is tied up in Jiangnan. If he happens to meet an unfortunate end out there, it’ll be chalked up to the Bai family’s own grudges, with no connection to our Marquis Estate…”
“Hmph,” Mama Xiang sneered coldly. “Madam has made it clear: it must be done cleanly and decisively. Second Master is too capable and too troublesome—a liability in the end. For Brother Wei’s future and the peace of the Marquis Estate, some stumbling blocks are better removed sooner rather than later… Remember, you have never seen me, and I have never given you any orders.”
“Understood!”
Footsteps faded into the distance…
Ming Lan tightly covered her mouth, her back pressed against the cold, rough wooden planks of the cart.
The joy she had felt moments ago while chasing the butterfly had vanished without a trace, replaced by a chilling disappointment that shot from the soles of her feet to every part of her body…
Mother…
In this life, Madam Qin—the mother who would fret for half a day over a shallow scratch on her finger, who would rise in the night to tuck her in, who showered her with every rare treasure and raised her in the lap of luxury…
Madam Qin’s love for her was real, and her love for her own child was real. Yet, at this very moment, she remained the same Madam Qin who would stop at nothing to achieve her goals, her heart still entangled with obsessions and resentment toward the Marquis Estate…
The stark contrast between Madam Qin’s kindness and care toward her in this life and the cold, calculated cruelty with which she now plotted to push Gu Tingye to the brink left Ming Lan deeply unsettled.
The unconditional love she had felt over these years of rebirth… surely that was real, wasn’t it?
Yet Ming Lan saw more clearly than ever that beneath that boundless tenderness and doting lay a heart twisted by the depths of the Marquis Estate’s inner quarters—a heart that beat only for her own flesh and blood, cold and precise in its calculations.
Madam Qin was certainly not a purely benevolent mother; she was a general trapped in the power struggles within the Marquis's household.
She had her detestable side, but also her pitiable side—she was complex, contradictory…
This moment of realization brought Ming Lan a bone-chilling coldness deeper than any slight she had endured in her past life, along with… an inexplicable sense of pity.
Ming Lan became more acutely aware that simply being a well-behaved, adorable, and obedient daughter would not be enough to comfort Madam Qin or unravel the knots in her heart… What she needed to do might be far more…
Lost in thought, she returned to the main carriage, unaware that the hem of her skirt was stained with mud.
Madam Qin was carefully checking a gift list by the light streaming through the carriage window. Seeing Ming Lan return, she naturally reached out to draw her into an embrace, her fingertips warm and soft. "Where has Yi'er been playing? Your hands are so cold…"
Ming Lan instinctively flinched, avoiding the warm touch.
Madam Qin's hand paused mid-air, a faint flicker of surprise crossing her eyes, quickly replaced by concern.
"What's wrong? Are you feeling unwell somewhere?" She set aside the gift list and reached out worriedly to feel Ming Lan's forehead.
Ming Lan quickly forced herself to relax. "No… I'm just a little cold, Mother."
She closed her eyes, concealing the turbulent emotions within, her thoughts racing.
No, she must not alert the enemy.
In this life, since she had received this heavy, obsession-tingered maternal love, perhaps… she must also find a way to protect those she wished to protect while trying… to break the chains that bound her mother, Madam Qin.