The newcomer was not yet twenty, tall and upright, the very image of youthful brilliance. His starry brows and sword-like eyes, fair skin and red lips, with a colorful headband tied across his forehead. His jet-black hair was gathered into a high crown, swaying with his confident, vigorous steps—radiant and dashing.
Handsome and flamboyant, dressed in fine clothes and noble bearing, Chen Xingwei appeared at the Pleasure Bureau, and the eyes of the Zhao family’s women lit up at once.
Chen Xingwei had arrived. They were saved!
Everyone looked at him as though he were a god descended to rescue them. Only Zhao Mingyan’s gaze remained calm, without a flicker of light.
Because she knew—Chen Xingwei did not care whether they lived or died. The only one he cared about was her second sister, Zhao Mingzhu.
“Heir Chen!”
From the crowd came a voice as sweet and delicate as a nightingale. Disheveled and desperate, Zhao Mingzhu broke away from the group of women and, before everyone’s eyes, threw herself into the arms of the man who was supposed to be her younger sister’s fiancé.
Chen Xingwei did not dodge or resist; he embraced her firmly.
The Zhao women stared wide-eyed at the scene.
The Zhao family had long been known for its strict moral conduct. In the previous generation, a revered scholar had proclaimed that women must obey the Three Obediences and uphold virtue, that a woman’s chastity was worth more than her life. Since then, Zhao’s daughters were raised under the harshest discipline. Yet now, the second young lady of the Zhao family openly embraced her sister’s betrothed. What scandal!
In her past life, Zhao Mingyan had been just as shocked—until she learned that the two had already been secretly involved.
After the Marchioness Xuanping arranged the engagement between her and Chen Xingwei, he had visited the Zhao household several times. In those comings and goings, he and Zhao Mingzhu had begun their affair.
In that previous life, Chen Xingwei came to the Pleasure Bureau only to save Zhao Mingzhu.
As for Zhao Mingyan, his legitimate fiancée—she was merely taken along. She followed Zhao Mingzhu to the Marquis Xuanping’s residence. When the Marchioness saw that Zhao Mingzhu had been rescued as well, she only paused briefly before dismissing it.
The Marquis’s household was vast and wealthy. Saving one more girl was of no consequence. Both could serve Chen Xingwei as concubines.
Yes—concubines.
Zhao Mingyan, once she entered the Pleasure Bureau, no longer had any rightful claim to marry into the Marquis Xuanping’s household as the wife of the heir. Even in her previous life, though she had guarded her body like jade and refused to entertain clients, it was all for nothing.
Granting her the status of a concubine was already considered a tremendous favor. She should not have dreamed of becoming the principal wife.
Yet even among concubines, there were differences in treatment.
Zhao Mingzhu was Chen Xingwei’s beloved concubine, his favored one. For her sake, he was even willing to commit the outrageous act of discarding his wife for a concubine. But Zhao Mingzhu knew well her position in the Marquis’s household. She dared not let Chen Xingwei go too far, lest he offend the Marchioness or the young madam. To preserve the image of a virtuous lady from a noble family, she devised a plan to use Zhao Mingyan as her scapegoat.
Whenever the Marchioness or the young madam had tasks, they were all pushed onto Zhao Mingyan. Every scheme and plot was made for Zhao Mingyan to block. Every false accusation was laid upon her shoulders. And when Chen Xingwei’s legitimate wife could no longer bear it and sought to overturn the household, Zhao Mingzhu sent Zhao Mingyan forward again.
After countless rounds of such struggles, Zhao Mingzhu and the principal wife came to appear as close as sisters, serving Chen Xingwei together in harmony.
The entire Marquis of Xuanping’s household was filled with peace and satisfaction. Zhao Mingzhu was content; the young madam was content; the Marchioness was content; Chen Xingwei was content. Only Zhao Mingyan, under the weight of everyone else’s satisfaction, was ground down until death.
She died on New Year’s Eve. While the whole city was lit with festive lanterns and the Marquis’s household gathered joyfully, she alone sat hungry and cold, punished to copy scriptures in her room. That day, she was truly starving—she had not eaten for two days. She thought to drink a little water to ease her hunger, but even the last drops at the bottom of the pot had frozen solid. She dared not lick the ice—it was too cold. The only warmth in her room was the candle flame by which she copied the scriptures.
Guarding that faint flame, in her haze, she seemed to see many things: the Zhao family before its downfall, the flourishing pomegranate tree in her mother’s courtyard, the wooden swing beneath it. She saw her mother gently holding her, pushing her on the swing, saying: “Our Mingyan is the best girl in the whole world.”
The flame died. Her mother was gone. She was gone.
On the morning of the first day of the new year, servants found her body. Curiously, Zhao Mingyan could still hear their voices. Yet throughout the household—from the Marchioness to the young madam, from Chen Xingwei to Zhao Mingzhu—there was only one remark: “How unlucky.”
Not a single tear was shed for her.
When she opened her eyes again, Zhao Mingyan had miraculously returned to the day her family was raided, the day she was sent into the Pleasure Bureau once more.
That day, she thought long and hard. She did not wish to hate anyone—hatred was meaningless. But one thing was certain: she would never again set foot in the Marquis Xuanping’s household. She would carve out a new path for herself.
“Heir Chen, perhaps you’ve mistaken the person. Mingyan is here.”
Zhao Mingyan had remained silent the whole time, intending to quietly slip away. But beside her, Zhao Jiahan was so shocked that she spoke up on her behalf.
Zhao Jiahan’s eyes widened as she stared at Zhao Mingzhu clinging to Chen Xingwei. How could Zhao Mingzhu be in his arms?
Of course it couldn’t be Zhao Mingzhu!
Ever since entering the Pleasure Bureau, Zhao Jiahan had quickly befriended Zhao Mingyan, hoping that Zhao Mingyan could rely on Chen Xingwei to escape this wretched place—and then take her along too.
On the very day Zhao Mingyan entered the Pleasure Bureau, she had already been forced to serve clients. Zhao Jiahan had cursed her harshly for it, but her scolding was useless. She had watched Zhao Mingyan, that despised illegitimate daughter, shamelessly cling to old men day after day, throwing herself at them. For seven days, she had fumed, yet still held onto a sliver of hope.
But now Chen Xingwei was embracing Zhao Mingzhu!
After Zhao Jiahan’s outburst, Chen Xingwei only cast her a glance, his eyes full of impatience. He didn’t even bother to explain, simply said: “I’m here to take Mingzhu.”
Nine words, blunt and decisive.
With the family fallen so low, there was no longer any talk of propriety or etiquette. His straightforward declaration made everything clear: Zhao Mingzhu was the one who had truly climbed high, the one with hope and a future.
Zhao Jiahan was no fool. Seeing the situation, she immediately added: “Just as well—Zhao Mingyan, that lowborn wretch, has already lost her purity. She’s not fit for Heir Chen at all. Our Mingzhu is the real pearl. Heir Chen, you have good judgment!”
She rushed forward to stand before Chen Xingwei and Zhao Mingzhu.
“Heir Chen, why don’t you take me too? I’m closest to Mingzhu. In the Zhao family, I’m the aunt who loves her most. Save me along with her!”
She pleaded desperately to be taken as well. But Chen Xingwei’s attention was caught by her earlier words; he didn’t even register the rest.
“You said Zhao Mingyan lost her purity?”