Dou Xueci was the sole bloodline of the Duke of Protecting the Nation. After her father fell in battle, the emperor decreed that the legitimate daughter of the Dou clan, Xueci, must never marry outside. Only the children she bore could inherit the duke’s title.
She carried her father’s coffin home and spent three years in Yongzhou observing mourning rites—also to avoid disaster. In that vast ducal household, everyone longed to feast on her flesh and drink her blood, wishing nothing more than to see her gone.
When she returned to the capital three years later, Dou Xueci discovered that her mother, Madam Zou, had adopted a foster daughter.
Her mother claimed Zhuang Wanqing had once saved her life, that she had suffered too much in her early years. Thus, all the affection, wealth, status, and power that should have belonged to Dou Xueci were handed over to Zhuang Wanqing.
If Dou Xueci showed the slightest dissatisfaction, she was branded petty, unable to tolerate a pitiful orphan girl.
The crown prince—her childhood companion—rebuked her, saying her conduct was disgraceful, lacking virtue, unlike Zhuang Wanqing’s dignified composure.
The top scholar whose life she had once saved sneered that she was vulgar, repaying kindness only to seek favors, unlike Zhuang Wanqing’s brilliance.
The young prince who had trained in martial arts alongside her accused her of being venomous and jealous, unlike Zhuang Wanqing’s kindness and generosity.
Even her betrothed cousin secretly adored Zhuang Wanqing.
To secure Zhuang Wanqing’s place as crown princess, he lured assassins into the ducal estate, hoping Dou Xueci would die.
One sword, one blade—
The sword carried no poison; Zhuang Wanqing blocked it to “save” her. But the blade was smeared with venom—by none other than her mother, Madam Zou—and it pierced Dou Xueci’s shoulder bone. Half a year later, she was tortured to death.
Zhuang Wanqing, for shielding her once, won the emperor’s favor and was granted in marriage to the crown prince.
After Dou Xueci’s death, Zhuang Wanqing entered the Eastern Palace, became the crown princess, and later empress.
Perhaps she had lived too stifled a life, resentment too deep, so her soul never reincarnated—wandering as a lonely ghost for ten years. She thought she would never hope again. Yet unexpectedly, she lived once more!
November.
Snow fluttered across the river, dark crows skimming the sky.
“Miss, Second Master Huai has brought that girl Hong Yu aboard. A whole crowd is drinking and listening to songs in the cabin, forgetting heaven and earth. What scoundrels! You are still an unmarried young lady on this boat, yet they behave so shamelessly!”
Liu Yun frowned, draping a crimson fox-fur cloak embroidered with gold over Dou Xueci’s shoulders, then handed her a delicate hand warmer.
“They have never regarded me at all. If they aren’t cursing me to die at once behind my back, that already counts as their mercy.”
Liu Yun nearly fainted at such words, spitting hastily three times. “Bah, bah, bah! Miss, you speak more recklessly by the day. Talking of death—how inauspicious!”
Dou Xueci turned and smiled at her maid. Her beauty was dazzling, enhanced by the tear-shaped mole beneath her eye—seductive, dangerous, impossible to look away from. A face that could topple kingdoms.
“Dearest sister, I misspoke. We needn’t worry ourselves. Only, that girl Hong Yu’s name is unlucky. Since Second Brother Huai dares to tempt fate, someone will deal with him soon enough.”
Liu Yun half-understood but asked no more.
“By tomorrow at the latest, we’ll reach the capital,” Dou Xueci murmured softly.
The next day, at noon.
“Miss, Second Master Huai sent me to inform you. The boat is about to dock. If you are ready, please come out quickly.” The servant’s tone was impatient as he shouted outside the cabin.
Liu Yun, frowning tightly as she adjusted Dou Xueci’s clothes, snapped back: “Understood. My lady will come at once.”
Her chest burned with indignation. All the glory of the Dou family had been won by the Duke, yet now they treated his only heir so carelessly!
Suppressing her anger, Liu Yun whispered: “Miss, An Qi asked me to tell you—the item has been slipped into Second Master Huai’s bundle without trouble.”
A faint smile touched Dou Xueci’s lips; she nodded slightly.
The heavy snow had stopped today, but the air was colder than usual.
Liu Yun, terrified she might freeze, bundled her in layer upon layer until Xueci looked like a rosy‑cheeked snow doll, only her flushed face peeking out.
“Let’s hurry—it’s cold enough to kill.” Dou Minghuai himself was already shivering, rubbing his hands, his eyes lazy and indifferent as he urged her off the boat so he could rush home.
But Dou Xueci stood still, gazing at the shabby gray sedan chair carried by two men at the dock.
Again, this trick—her family never missed a chance to humiliate her.
“That’s the chair prepared for me?”
“You still want to flaunt yourself like when you were a child? What’s wrong with it? Must you be so spoiled?” Seeing her unmoved, Dou Minghuai’s nose nearly frozen off, his tone grew harsher.
Yet she was the legitimate daughter of the ducal house, niece to the empress herself. Even a first‑rank minister’s daughter would ride in a green‑canopied sedan borne by eight men. She had every right. If she yielded now and sat in that broken chair paraded through the capital, her dignity would be utterly destroyed.
In her past life, she had flown into a rage at the sight, ordering a whip to smash the chair to pieces. Though spared the insult, she earned the reputation of being arrogant and unruly.
“What are you still standing for! In this freezing weather, if you won’t move, I won’t stay here with you!” Dou Minghuai, second son of the Dou family’s second branch, had been spoiled by his mother, Madam Yao, into a reckless wastrel. He excelled at nothing but indulgence in wine and pleasure.
Sending such a man to escort Dou Xueci back to the capital was itself an insult.
Dou Xueci ignored him. Her gaze shifted from the shabby sedan, ears catching a voice calling nearby: “Sister Xueci!”
A figure in purple leaped down from a carriage drawn by four tall horses, face alight with joy, running straight toward her.
“Your servant greets Princess Langhuan, Your Highness…”
Before she could finish, Lin Zhaoyang scowled and pulled her upright.
“What’s the meaning of this! Three years apart, and you greet me so coldly?”
Dou Xueci knew she wasn’t truly angry. “Princess, courtesy must not be neglected.”
“Enough. Father and Mother have been counting the days since they heard of your return. They’re waiting eagerly for you to enter the palace. Let’s go quickly.”
Princess Langhuan tapped her forehead helplessly, then clasped her hand. Feeling the chill in Dou Xueci’s palm, her brows furrowed ever so slightly.
Dou Minghuai had already knelt in the snow when the princess arrived, his knees sinking into the icy ground. But until the princess dismissed him, he dared not rise.
Lin Zhaoyang, clad in a purple fox‑fur cloak, turned with a sweep of her hem, scattering snowflakes that splashed across Dou Minghuai’s face.
Only after Dou Xueci and the princess had gone some distance did Dou Minghuai attempt to stand—when a pair of embroidered shoes stopped before him.
“Second Master Huai, remain kneeling for another hour.”
Dou Minghuai’s eyes widened in disbelief. Even a princess could not casually punish the son of an official family!
“On what grounds? What crime have I committed!”