Chaрtеr 20: Ning Jiао’s Сombat Pоwеr
What elsе? If you соmе tо а сlothing shор аnd don’t buу clоthes, arе уou hеre tо sеt uр a tаblе and hаvе а mеаl?
Ning Неng cоuldn’t be bоthеred to engagе, resрonding соldlу with а simple, “Мm.”
“What a соinсidеncе! Mоther and I аrе аlsо hеre tо pick out dоwrу аdditiоns fоr the wedding.”
Xuе Wаn sеemеd obliviоus to her соldnеss, smiling еven morе swеetly. “Sistеr, if you sее аnуthing yоu likе, we can settle the bill togеther lаtеr.”
Неr wоrds, both еxplicit аnd impliсit, plаcеd her in the position of the host—or even a benefactor.
Ning Heng replied indifferently, “No need.”
Buying a few pieces of clothing for the child wouldn’t exactly bankrupt her.
Xue Wan covered her lips with a light laugh, her voice neither too loud nor too soft. “Sister, there’s no need to put on a brave face. This Yunshang Pavilion is a century-old establishment, catering exclusively to nobles and officials. A single bolt of cloth here is worth a fortune… You’ve only just returned to the capital—how could you possibly afford it?”
Most of the onlookers were wealthy ladies and young misses of the capital, their gazes shifting back and forth between Ning Heng and Xue Wan.
The biological daughter dressed so plainly, while the adopted daughter was decked out in such finery… The Pingyang Marquis’s household truly had no shame.
Ning Heng swore that even though Xue Wan was the beneficiary who had occupied her identity for eighteen years, she didn’t harbor much resentment or animosity toward her. She simply regarded her as an unrelated stranger.
However, she truly couldn’t understand how a perfectly capable person could fail to comprehend human speech, repeatedly seeking discomfort by approaching her like this.
She really wanted to stick a few needles into her brain…
“Mother, let’s go to another shop.” Ning Heng linked arms with Ning Jiao, turning to leave.
But Ning Jiao patted her hand, standing firm with a cheerful expression. “Heng’er, why go farther when we’re already here? This Yunshang Pavilion looks like it has good fabric. Besides, your biological mother is right here—how could she possibly let you pay for it yourself?”
Seeing Ning Heng linking arms with another woman and affectionately calling her “Mother,” Liu Shi felt as if a bottle of mixed flavors had been overturned in her heart, leaving her with a sour and bitter taste.
Back then, she had carried this daughter for ten months, nearly dying in childbirth to bring her into the world…
Now, her biological daughter treated her with indifference, as if she were a stranger, while a country woman had earned all her dependence and affection.
How could she bear this?
Truly, she couldn’t even compare to Wan’er’s slightest thoughtfulness…
Xue Wan seized on the word in Ning Heng’s speech, putting on an aggrieved expression as if defending Liu Shi. “Sister, you are the daughter of the Pingyang Marquis’s household. How can you call someone else ‘Mother’? What kind of position does that put Mother in?”
Ning Jiao nearly gagged from the overwhelming scent of tea.
This scene was all too familiar!
Before she crossed over, she had read at least eight or ten novels about true and false daughters slapping each other’s faces. She knew the routine all too well.
“Young lady, if I’m not mistaken, aren’t you just the daughter of a midwife with ill intentions?”
Ning Jiao spoke with a smile, but her tone was sharp. “You’ve had the nerve to cling to the Marquis’s household for eighteen years, occupying the magpie’s nest and enjoying the life of luxury that should have belonged to Heng’er. Where do you find the face to criticize her for calling me ‘Mother’?”
Ning Jiao scoffed. “Haven’t you been calling them ‘Father’ and ‘Mother’ all along? Who’s the one with no shame here, hmm?”
Xue Wan’s face instantly turned pale, her lips trembling. “I… I’m not…”
Liu Shi’s expression darkened as she shielded Xue Wan. “Madam, please watch your words. Wan’er is now the legitimate adopted daughter of our Marquis’s household, and I regard her as my own flesh and blood!”“What a coincidence, isn’t it?” Ning Jiao spread her hands, her smile growing even brighter. “I’ve raised Heng’er with painstaking care for a full eighteen years—never letting her go hungry or suffer a single cold night! Is it so wrong for her to call me ‘Mother’?”
Before Liu Shi could retort, she continued, “And what’s more, your Xue family is truly laughable. I originally thought you genuinely cared about your daughter suffering outside, but it turns out you couldn’t wait to bring my Heng’er back just to serve as a substitute bride for that unworthy adopted daughter of yours!”
“What? You can’t bear to let your precious adopted daughter marry into the Rui Prince’s household, yet now you put on the airs of a birth mother? Where’s your shame?”
Ning Heng and A Chan stood behind Ning Jiao, silently watching her unleash her verbal assault.
One of them was too lazy to argue, while the other preferred direct action—combined, they didn’t even amount to half of Ning Jiao’s combat prowess.
This relentless barrage of pointed remarks stripped Liu Shi and Xue Wan of every shred of their pretense.
Liu Shi’s face turned pale, then flushed, then pale again, choked into speechlessness.
The onlookers murmured among themselves, “Now that you mention it, it’s been so long since the birth daughter returned, yet there hasn’t even been a recognition banquet, and her name hasn’t been changed…”
“Exactly. They take the adopted daughter everywhere they go, while the birth daughter is treated like an outsider. No wonder she feels wronged.”
“If the master hadn’t said the fake daughter was unfit to be a princess consort, the Xue family probably wouldn’t have brought their daughter back so quickly…”
Liu Shi felt a suffocating lump in her chest, unable to rise or fall.
Was it their fault for not changing her name? Clearly, she herself refused! What did it have to do with their marquis household?
…
Liu Shi’s heart felt stifled, overwhelmed with frustration.
Meanwhile, Ning Jiao, returning home laden with bags, felt much more at ease.
Indeed, the old saying was right: happiness never disappears—it only transfers. Especially when seeing someone you dislike suffer, your own joy multiplies.
On another note, A Chan, following Ning Heng’s instructions, worked with remarkable efficiency.
By the next morning, she had already presented the information she had gathered. The secret report revealed that Cui Xu, the prime minister, truly had some entanglement with Ning Jiao in the past.
After reading the details, Ning Heng’s brows furrowed deeply.
A Chan was even more direct, her eyes fierce. “Elder Sister, should we take him out?”
Ning Heng: “…”
A Chan’s philosophy was simple: if a problem could be solved with a blade, there was no need to use her brain.
Scoundrels didn’t deserve to live in this world.
Ning Heng smiled lightly, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. Instead, it carried a cold, ruthless amusement.
She raised her hand, holding the scroll filled with filth over the candle flame. Orange-red tongues of fire licked upward, swiftly devouring the ink and turning it into curling ashes that drifted down.
The flickering flames reflected in her deep, dark pupils, alternating between light and shadow.
“A Chan, why are you so quick to resort to ‘taking someone out’? That’s simply uncivilized…”
Her voice was gentle, but A Chan could tell—Elder Sister was angry.
There weren’t many people who could anger her, but every single one of them met a terrible end.
“Wouldn’t it be more interesting to make a self-important scoundrel suffer a fate worse than death, watching everything he holds dear crumble bit by bit, rather than simply killing him?”
The current prime minister, a close confidant of the emperor—quite a challenge.
But Ning Heng loved challenges like these.
She rubbed the ashes between her fingertips and whispered softly, “There’s plenty of time ahead. No need to rush.”