The cousin of the Rong family—Rong Mo.
He was a background character who barely appeared in the book. This Rong Mo figure only showed up a handful of times, and every single time was related to Cheng Ruyi.
Eight years ago, the maternal family of the Marquis of Changle’s matriarch (Madame Cheng-Rong) had been suddenly massacred. Only the twelve-year-old Rong Mo had managed to escape under the protection of his family. By the time the Cheng family found him, he had been so deeply poisoned that the toxins could not be fully purged. To save his life, all the poison had been locked away in his legs.
From then on, Rong Mo was paralyzed.
The Rong family was originally a scholarly clan from Qinghe Prefecture. Madame Cheng-Rong was a legitimate daughter of the main branch and cared deeply for the son of her eldest brother who had lost his family. Thus, Rong Mo came to live in the Marquis of Changle’s residence.
Perhaps due to the family tragedy, the once gentle and jade-like youth had undergone a massive personality shift. He was now cold as ice, lacking even a hint of human warmth.
The Cheng siblings were terrified of this cousin. Every time they saw him, they acted like mice spotting a cat.
The newly arrived Cheng Ruyi, however, had no reason to fear Rong Mo. Knowing who the man before her was, she greeted him casually.
“Cousin, the weather is quite nice today. Want to go out for a stroll with us?”
The footman pushing the wheelchair looked at the Eldest Young Miss as if he’d seen a ghost. He remembered that she always feared the Young Master, avoiding him whenever possible. Had she been traumatized?
It wasn’t just the footman; young Cheng Yu, hiding behind Ruyi, was stunned.
Sister… Sister doesn’t seem afraid of Cousin anymore.
Rong Mo looked up at Cheng Ruyi’s beautiful, bright face. A flicker of emotion passed through his icy eyes, and for some reason, he actually nodded.
“Alright.”
Hearing his cousin agree, Cheng Yu’s eyes widened. He looked as if his world had ended, his entire body radiating a thick aura of resentment.
Ruyi turned around and, amused, rubbed her brother’s head like she was petting a dog to give him a bit of comfort.
“Let’s go. Time to hit the shops.”
Likely due to the sweltering heat, there weren’t as many pedestrians on the capital’s streets as usual, though it wasn’t empty either. Gone was the usual boisterous atmosphere. The street vendors didn’t bother shouting their wares, and the shop assistants all looked drained of energy.
A beautiful girl in red braved the scorching sun, browsing with great interest. She held a small bag of washed bayberries, popping them into her mouth one by one. They were sweet and tart—delicious.
Most importantly, they helped with digestion. She could eat even more good food tonight.
The girl squinted with satisfaction. Beside her was a cold-faced man in a wheelchair. Meanwhile, young Cheng Yu had long since lost his excitement under the sun. His head drooped, and he listlessly ate bayberries like an abandoned puppy.
Several guards surrounded the trio for protection. Two of them carried large bags of food and a few seeds. Most of the food was meat. The guards were deeply impressed that the Young Miss still had such a good appetite in this heat.
This strange group attracted many gazes. People whispered privately; upon learning the red-clad girl’s identity, their faces showed disdain, schadenfreude, indifference, or contempt.
Ruyi’s hearing was too sharp; she heard all the whispers, but she didn’t care. The original owner hadn’t done anything truly heinous or murderous—just some petty jealousy. Under Cheng Qingyao’s careful maneuvering, she had become “famous” in the capital. Famous for a bad reputation, of course.
Ruyi curled her lip. These people were just bored out of their minds, spending every day thinking about how to stand out or ruin someone’s name. In the apocalypse, people like this would have died long ago.
Besides, the reputation of the entire Marquis of Changle’s household wasn’t great anyway. She only cared about eating, drinking, and having fun.
Nearby, on the second floor of a luxurious establishment called Juyuan Restaurant, a group of richly dressed noble ladies were chatting in a room cooled by many ice basins.
“Oh? Isn’t that the Eldest Young Miss of the Changle Marquis household, Cheng Ruyi?” A pretty girl in a pink high-waisted dress happened to glance out the window and cried out in surprise.
This exclamation drew a crowd of noble ladies to the window to look.
“It really is her. Wasn’t it said she was sick? Why is she out shopping? Could she be faking it just to avoid apologizing to County Princess Lin Xin’er?” A plain-looking girl stared at Ruyi’s face—which remained vibrantly beautiful even in a crowd—her tone tinged with jealousy.
“Yalan is right. What ‘sick’? I bet she’s just too embarrassed to show her face, so she lied about being ill…” another girl with unremarkable features agreed.
“She has to fake it. This Miss Cheng is too willful and vicious; she nearly ruined County Princess Lin Xin’er’s face.”
“I heard that the Yan family—her fiancé’s family—has reached the end of their patience. They’re preparing to petition the Emperor to break off the engagement.” This girl’s crisp voice carried a hint of glee.
“If that’s true, it’s wonderful. If it weren’t for the Emperor’s decree ten years ago, a vicious woman like Cheng Ruyi wouldn’t be a match for Young Master Yan.”
The speaker was a beautiful noble lady with a fine figure, her words dripping with bitterness and envy.
“I just wonder when Young Master Yan will finally be rid of that hateful, jealous woman…”
The bored group of ladies chirped on, gossiping about Ruyi and eventually turning into a full-on condemnation of her while pitying the poor Young Master Yan, who had been saddled with her by royal decree.
Eventually, someone mentioned Ruyi’s father, the Marquis of Changle. The ladies instantly shut their mouths, their interest vanishing.
As for Rong Mo in his wheelchair, he was completely ignored. In their hearts, the Rong family of Qinghe was a thing of the past. Rong Mo was just a pitiful person living off the charity of others.
Rong Mo’s background wasn’t a secret. With no family property and crippled legs, he couldn’t take the imperial exams and had to rely on the Marquis of Changle to survive. That was why, at twenty, he still wasn’t engaged.
Aside from the ladies, several young noblemen were also chatting in a window-side private room of the famous Juyuan Restaurant. Coincidentally, the very Young Master Yan they had been discussing was among them. They all saw the striking girl in red.
A few handsome men teased him: “Zihao, your fiancée is out making a scene again.”
Young Master Yan—Yan Zihao, the second son of the main branch of the Marquis of Huaiyang—was handsome, tall, and carried a cold, refined aura. He was one of the most eligible bachelors in the eyes of the capital’s noble ladies.
Unfortunately, he had a long-standing engagement decreed by the Emperor, which couldn’t be easily dissolved.
Yan Zihao cast a faint glance at the arrogant girl in red on the street. He looked away and picked up his teacup, gently tapping the lid against the rim without a word.
“Zihao, what is the Marquis of Changle’s family thinking? Little Sister Xin’er was almost disfigured by that vicious woman, yet not a single one of them has come to apologize. It’s too much.”
The speaker was Lin Xin’er’s cousin, Tang Shuhua, the son of the Minister of Personnel. When he spoke of the Changle household, his eyes flashed with loathing and contempt.
“You know they’re all eccentrics. The old man is a troublemaker who spends his time playing with dogs and cats, neglecting his duties and acting like a rogue. The young one follows suit—a total dandy. The whole family is a mess, a pile of rotten mud. Getting an apology out of them is harder than reaching the sky. If you aren’t careful, they’ll even turn the tables on you.”
Another man chuckled softly, his tone indifferent.
“Exactly. Shuhua, didn’t you see that the Marquis of Jinyang hasn’t even said anything?” Sun Ming, son of the Minister of Rites, scoffed.
At this, Tang Shuhua fell silent.
When it came to Lin Xin’er’s father, the Marquis of Jinyang, he was one of the four Marquises with actual power. Yet, every time he saw the Marquis of Changle, he would take a detour to avoid him.
Everyone knew the reason: the Marquis of Changle, Cheng Zeyuan, was a total ruffian. Yet, the Emperor was exceptionally lenient toward him because Cheng Zeyuan had saved the Emperor’s life—an act that had left him unable to father more children later on. As long as he didn’t commit treason, the Emperor let him do as he pleased.
The Marquis of Jinyang had suffered at his hands several times. Even after complaining to the Emperor, he ended up having to pay out compensation. Eventually, he just started avoiding him altogether.
Yan Zihao simply listened to his friends, saying nothing. His mother detested the notorious Cheng Ruyi and had long wanted to break the engagement. She had repeatedly asked his father to petition the Emperor, but the Emperor refused, stating it could only be dissolved if the Marquis of Changle agreed.
Regarding his fiancée, the naturally cold Yan Zihao couldn’t say he liked her, but he didn’t hate her either. Whether the engagement was broken or not didn’t matter much to him.
“Sister, let’s go sit in a restaurant for a bit.” The pampered young Cheng Yu finally couldn’t take the heat anymore and spoke up with a miserable face.
Hearing this, Ruyi stopped her shopping spree, feeling a bit unsatisfied. She looked back at Xiao Yu’s sun-reddened face and his wilted appearance, feeling a small pang of guilt. With her abilities, she didn’t fear the sun at all; this was like a mild spring day compared to the apocalypse.
But her little brother, who had always lived in luxury, couldn’t handle it.
“Alright, there’s a restaurant nearby. Let’s go have a seat.” With a wave of her hand, Ruyi called over her brother and Cousin Rong Mo. The group headed toward the establishment in a grand procession.
Cheng Yu’s eyes lit up, and he immediately regained his energy, cheerfully following his sister.
From his wheelchair, Rong Mo watched his energetic cousin and the lively little boy beside her. A hint of softness appeared in his icy gaze, and the corners of his mouth curved up almost imperceptibly.
“Juyuan Restaurant?”
When Ruyi saw the name, a strong sense of familiarity washed over her. It was the restaurant that appeared most frequently in the book. Its hidden owner was the famous God of War of the Great Zhou—the Prince of Pingnan.
The “white moonlight” and “cinnabar mole” in the heart of the female lead, Cheng Qingyao.
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