Yun Zheng’s dark eyes swept over the crowd. “Ah, I forgot to introduce her—Ye Yizhen. You all know her, don’t you…”
There was a faint trace of mockery in her gaze, yet also a calm certainty, as if everything were under her control.
Ye Yizhen felt a surge of dread. No, she couldn’t let Yun Zheng keep talking. “Sister‑in‑law, I know you hate me, despise me. Whatever you do to me doesn’t matter. But don’t drag the Marquis’s household into this. Marquis Pingxi’s family is loyal and devoted—it shouldn’t be the target of your resentment.”
Listen to her—so magnanimous, so considerate of the bigger picture. By contrast, Yun Zheng was painted as narrow‑minded, vindictive, unscrupulous.
Facing the crowd’s doubtful stares, Yun Zheng spoke slowly and deliberately.
“This lady said she wanted to stage a fine performance here at Huangjue Temple, so the world would see her as a kind and upright woman. That way she could win favor in high society, gather support, and smoothly enter the palace to accomplish great deeds.”
Her words were vague, half‑hidden, half‑revealed—yet precisely because of that, they stirred even more speculation.
Duke Ding narrowed his eyes. His political instincts were sharper than those of the common worshippers. In that single sentence, he heard danger layered upon danger. What “great deeds” in the palace? Assassination? Poisoning? Rebellion? Countless possibilities flashed through his mind. But first—was there truth in her words?
Ye Yizhen’s heart pounded wildly, as if it would burst from her chest. Terror gripped her.
Yun Zheng feigned confusion. “I don’t know what kind of great matter requires a woman to show herself publicly, winning hearts. I was simply curious about what play she had arranged. So I came here early to watch.”
She explained why she was at Huangjue Temple. Outlandish, perhaps—but logical, even reasonable.
The crowd quickly grasped the unspoken meaning. In plain terms, she had come to sabotage.
Duke Ding frowned slightly. A “fine performance”? Did she mean the commotion just now? It was indeed a spectacle, and it did seem designed to boost reputation.
Ye Yizhen’s heart thudded violently, her whole body turning cold. How could she know? Did she have a spy at her side? No… impossible!
“You’re spouting nonsense.”
One of the officials’ daughters couldn’t help but ask, “Are you saying the kidnapping incident was carefully orchestrated by Ye Yizhen?”
She was Qin Susu, the legitimate daughter of the Minister of Justice, known for her fiery temper and clear sense of right and wrong.
Ye Yizhen’s heart lurched. Just earlier, the two of them had been chatting warmly, even agreeing to meet often. “Susu, you know my character. Do you really think I’m that kind of person?”
Before, Qin Susu had admired her kindness—how she had reached out to help a child she didn’t even know. She had thought highly of her, even planning to introduce her into her own circle of friends.
But now, Qin Susu wavered, insisting on an answer.
Yun Zheng inclined her head slightly, her tone firm. “Yes.”
Qin Susu’s mind was in turmoil. “How could that be? What would she gain? Just a good reputation?”
A crisp voice rang out. “And my grandfather’s skills.”
A little boy stepped out of the room, his face round and tender, his eyes dark and bright.
Ye Yizhen’s pupils contracted violently. The boy she had been searching for—how was he here? Yun Zheng had taken him?
The crowd recognized him too. Qin Susu stared in shock. “Heavens, why is he here?”
Yun Zheng beckoned to An Kang, and the boy obediently walked to her side, clutching her hand as if it gave him comfort. “He was rescued by my people.”
Rescued? That was a loaded word.
Seeing the boy nestle trustingly against Yun Zheng, Ye Yizhen was furious. She had exhausted herself, worked so hard, and in the end gained nothing—only for Yun Zheng to reap the rewards.
No, she couldn’t let Yun Zheng steal the fruit of her labor. She forced the gentlest, sweetest smile. “Little one, don’t be fooled by her. She’s a scheming woman, full of lies. She only wants to use you to harm me.”
It wasn’t gossip behind her back—she said it openly. But the image of a kind, virtuous woman was already crumbling. What good person would speak that way about her own sister‑in‑law? Still, she couldn’t care about appearances now. The child was too important.
An Kang pursed his lips and asked innocently, “What kind of grudge do you two have?”
Ye Yizhen thought the boy had once liked her, and with that first impression, perhaps she could still win him back. “She hates me for taking her husband. But in truth, she was the one who intruded midway—she’s the third party. My husband and I were childhood sweethearts; we grew up together.”
She was focused only on coaxing the boy, not noticing that Qin Susu’s expression had changed.
Third party? As far as Qin Susu knew, Yun Zheng’s marriage contract with Jiang Wenzhou came earlier. A contract was proof, not mere feelings. Ha. She had thought Ye Yizhen was also a victim, and had even sympathized with her. Clearly, she had been mistaken.
An Kang blinked. “Then why did you let her intrude? Did she threaten you with a knife?”
A child’s words were the truest, cutting straight to the heart. Ye Yizhen’s smile froze. “No, it wasn’t like that. Her family used money to buy people…”
That excuse might fool ordinary worshippers, but not well‑informed nobles—and not An Kang.
In that moment, whatever goodwill An Kang had toward her vanished. The scales in his heart tipped fully toward Yun Zheng. Though young, he could still make basic judgments. “You don’t have money? The Marquis’s household despised you for being poor, so they refused to marry you?”
The words pierced Ye Yizhen’s heart. Her face flushed red, her eyes brimmed with tears, as if she had suffered the greatest injustice.
Jiang Wenzhou couldn’t bear it and stepped forward to defend her. “Brat, how dare you speak like that? So rude! Do you know how much time and effort she spent to save you? A delicate woman, running all over the temple with her servants, nearly fainting from exhaustion. You should learn gratitude. Kneel and apologize to Zhenzhen!”
As the heir of the Marquis’s household, he spoke with innate arrogance.
An Kang disliked him intensely and stood unmoving. “Do you know who my grandfather is?”
Jiang Wenzhou sneered. “How would I know?”
An Kang looked at him as if he were an idiot. Jiang Wenzhou felt insulted and wanted to teach him a lesson.
Suddenly, An Kang raised his finger and pointed at Ye Yizhen. “She knows.” Then he pointed at Yun Zheng. “She knows too. Ha, only you don’t know. Fool.”
Everyone was stunned. What was going on? Who was this boy’s grandfather that made him so extraordinary?
Ye Yizhen’s face turned pale, her heart in turmoil. This wasn’t what she had expected. Where had things gone wrong? “I don’t know!”
Yun Zheng let out a cold laugh. “Stop pretending. This child’s grandfather is none other than the famed Ghost Doctor—master of both medicine and poison. Didn’t you arrange this whole spectacle just to make him serve you?”
Like a drop of oil falling into water, the crowd instantly erupted. The Ghost Doctor? Master of medicine and poison? If one could secure his loyalty, wouldn’t that mean being able to kill anyone at will? You had your men kidnap his grandson, then staged a grand rescue—winning both reputation and advantage. And afterward, you could demand repayment, using gratitude to control him. My goodness. Playing both the villain and the savior—how capable could one person be? Terrifying. Such scheming was truly terrifying.
Ye Yizhen’s mind went blank. She glared furiously at Yun Zheng—once again, it was her ruining everything!
Yun Zheng glared back coldly. Their eyes locked, sparks flying, the tension ready to explode.