She had no choice but to add more fuel to the fire, thinking her hint was obvious enough. "Brother, you've always been clever. Could you help me think of a way?"
This time, Yun Cheng finally reacted.
Yun Yao watched his lips with anticipation, only to hear him say, word by word, "This is your own affair."
The implication was clear—if she wanted to help Shao Zhen, she would have to find a way herself.
Yun Yao's smile froze at the corners of her lips. She suspected his tongue was so venomous that he must have eaten something wrong this morning.
If not for her promise to Shao Zhen, she would have nearly flipped the table and left. She forced a stiff, clumsy change of subject. "By the way, brother, do you know anything about the situation in Lu City?"
Yun Cheng didn't even lift his eyelashes. Instead, he asked in return, "Why would you ask about that?"
Yun Yao had never cared about politics, let alone such specific matters. A moment's thought was all it took to know who she was asking for.
She truly was deeply devoted to Tao Wenkan. They had only been apart for a few days, and already she was worrying about his safety, afraid she might lose this pillar of support.
But how could she overlook the fact that her current troubles were all thanks to Tao Wenkan?
This gentle, easily bullied woman—even after being hurt, she refused to learn her lesson, insisting on plunging headfirst into the flames like a moth.
That prickling, unpleasant feeling at the bottom of his heart began to stir again, like a fine, resilient net wrapping around him, refusing to let him easily break free.
Yet Yun Cheng believed his heart was cold and hard enough to tear through the net's restraint despite the pain. He would strip Shao Zhen's figure from his heart and be a good friend to her husband.
After all, he had considerable experience in masquerading as an upright gentleman.
He curled his injured hand. The unhealed wound seeped blood from the strain, staining the pristine white gauze red. The harmless pain kept his mind clear. To avoid Yun Yao noticing anything amiss, he turned his hand over, completely concealing the faint scent of blood.
Yun Yao naturally wouldn't betray Shao Zhen. She casually made up an excuse, saying with perfect confidence, "As a citizen of Great Yan, isn't it only natural for me to care about matters of state?"
Yun Cheng recalled the note the Third Prince had sent him by carrier pigeon not long ago. He shared what he could. "The two sides have clashed several times. For now, neither has gained the upper hand. Fortunately, casualties among the soldiers aren't severe. As for further details, I'm not well informed either."
Seeing that she had successfully obtained information, Yun Yao could hardly hide her delight. She rose and took her leave.
Alone in the room, Yun Cheng's face turned cold. He summoned the guard who had accompanied Yun Yao out that day through Jiu Jian.
After listening to the guard's detailed account of Wang Qi's actions, he raised his arm to dismiss the man. Yet the displeasure in his heart burned stronger than ever.
It was always like this.
Shao Zhen always knew her boundaries. Even when she was in trouble, she would never seek him out on her own.
In her eyes, was he really so unreliable that he couldn't even measure up to Yun Yao?
The anger that had been suppressed since morning accumulated into a great blaze, burning so fiercely that he had to do something. He didn't even realize he had crossed his own taboo again—letting matters concerning Shao Zhen easily stir his thoughts.
Yun Cheng rose and walked to the desk. In a moment, he picked up his brush and wrote a single character: "Wang." The strokes pierced through the paper, elegant and refined—the kind of calligraphy that the world would praise as worth a thousand gold.
Yun Cheng lowered his gaze to examine the character. No matter how he looked at it, it seemed an eyesore.
Wang Qi, Wang Jing, the Wang family… A hundred years ago, the Junxun Wangs were merely a branch of the Langya Wangs. They had curled up beyond the vortex of power, then by fortunate coincidence backed the Wei faction, rising with the tide.
Since the Wangs should have perished with their main house long ago, and they had been lucky enough to survive a few extra decades without learning to sheathe their blades and avoid disaster—then there was no need to let them linger a few more days.
The cinnabar the young lord dipped his brush in anew was bright red like blood, like a sharp cleaver, slicing the character "Wang" in two from the middle.
That morning, before dawn had broken, the night watchman's wooden clapper rang out clamorously, nearly drowning out the knocking at the door. The lion-head door knocker opened its great mouth, baring fangs that struck fear into the heart.
Wang Jing had slipped out from under the noses of the Imperial Guard in secret. Late last night, she had been startled awake in the embroidery chamber by the sound of galloping hooves outside.
Soon after, a maidservant burst through the door, shouting, "Milady, something terrible has happened! Please get up and see for yourself."
Given the urgency, she didn't bother to wash or dress properly. She met up with her mother, Lady Wen, who also wore a grim expression, and hurried to the front courtyard.
The usually peaceful Wang residence was surrounded by a sea of Inner Army soldiers. Burly guards held blazing torches aloft. At their head stood a man with half his face covered by a ferocious green-faced, fanged mask. The exposed half wore a gloomy expression, like a night hawk that shunned the light.
Wang Jing had heard of his name—Yang Cong, Commandant of the Feathered Forest Guard. He was a man of humble origins, born of a lowly family. But thanks to his exceptional martial skill and unwavering loyalty, he had been personally promoted by the current Emperor to become an imperial guard, commanding the Inner Army to defend Yingdu.
His methods were ruthless—a fact known throughout the court and the realm.
She had initially wanted to scold him for his audacity—after all, by official rank, her father was a third-rank Vice Minister—but when she lowered her head and looked closely, she saw that the two corpses lying at his feet were none other than the Wang family's gate guards.
And the sword hanging from his hand was dripping bright red blood, staining the white marble steps with a vivid, piercing crimson.
She promptly shut her mouth and turned her gaze to her father, Wang Kaizhi, who stood at the very front.
The man frowned deeply, appearing utterly unshaken, yet the hand hidden within his sleeve was clenched so tightly that his veins bulged, and he strained to keep his back straight, clinging to his composure.
The night was dark and starless, and the four upturned eaves of the Wang estate loomed ever more massive and imposing, pressing heavily down upon his shoulders.
Wang Jing's heart trembled—she had an extremely ominous premonition.
"Vice Minister Wang," Yang Cong said, raising the ledger high in his hand with a brilliant smile, his voice hoarse as if laced with gravel, "your third son, Wang Qi, has been reported for privately seizing civilian farmland and beating to death law-abiding citizens who came seeking justice, right on the public streets. This has stirred public outrage and incurred His Majesty's wrath. I must trouble you to cooperate and hand him over, so that I may conduct a thorough investigation."
Upon hearing that her son was about to be taken away, Lady Wen's face changed instantly, and she cried out mournfully, "Husband!"
Everyone knew that those taken away by the Imperial Guard were always serious offenders, and most would never return alive. Even the few who were fortunate enough to come back could not be guaranteed to emerge whole and unscathed.
How could Wang Kaizhi not be stricken with grief and regret? He had long warned Lady Wen never to dote on Wang Qi too much, but having borne a son late in life, she wished she could keep Wang Qi in her mouth at all times, neglecting his discipline. This had led him to swagger through the streets day after day, charging about recklessly, until he finally brought about this great calamity.
Alas, heaven was determined to destroy their Junxu Wang clan!
Ignoring Lady Wen's and Wang Qi's shrill cries for help, Wang Kaizhi turned aside, like a wooden effigy stripped of all joy and anger.
Even after capturing Wang Qi, Yang Cong still did not leave. Instead, he ordered a portion of the Imperial Guard to keep a strict watch over every corner of the Wang estate—until this matter was settled, no one in the Wang household could come or go freely.
Seeing such an array of forces, how could Wang Jing not understand that disaster had befallen them? She feared this matter went far beyond the mere seizure of farmland. The Wang family had made no shortage of enemies over the years, and the younger members of the clan carried their eyes on the tops of their heads, drawing far too much attention.
The one on the dragon throne had likely finally lost patience and was now taking the Wang clan as his target!
Fool! Maggot! She cursed Wang Qi, her own full-blooded brother, with every venomous word she could muster.
But what use were curses? She looked at the unconscious Lady Wen and the resigned Wang Kaizhi, and in her utter helplessness, she began to scheme for her own survival.
As long as she became a married daughter who had wed into another family, the Wang family's affairs would have nothing to do with her.
Just like clouds parting to reveal the sun, seizing the moment while the household was in chaos and each branch was too preoccupied to look after the others, she quietly bribed the Imperial Guard at the gate with silver and ran straight toward the Tao residence.
The two estates were not far apart. Along the way, Wang Jing lost her hairpins and her coiffure came undone, but she never stopped running. The dignity and decorum of a noble lady had become utterly insignificant at such a moment.
Yet when she pounded on the Tao family's door and shouted, "Someone! Someone! I am Wang Jing! I request an audience with Madam Xu!"
The person inside said they would go announce her arrival, but she waited until the sky was nearly light, and there was still no further word.
How could Wang Jing not understand? The world was cold, and people fawned on the mighty while trampling the fallen. Madam Xu, who had once eagerly catered to her, was now, seeing the tree toppled and the monkeys scattered, rushing to sever all ties with her!
A faint pale glow appeared on the distant horizon, and she vaguely heard footsteps approaching. Hope flickered in her eyes.
But she quickly realized something was wrong—these footsteps did not come from within the gate. From the empty corner ahead, two Imperial Guards in full armor appeared, their faces cold and stern as they charged toward her!
Wang Jing was seized with terror. She braced her arms to flee, but her legs gave way and she crashed heavily to the ground.
Even as she glared resentfully at that tightly shut door, unwilling to accept her fate, they grabbed her by the shoulders and dragged her away.
The commotion at the Wang estate had not gone unnoticed. Inside the Tao residence, a lamp burned beside Madam Xu's couch.
When her maid reported that Wang Jing had been taken away, only then did her anxious heart settle, and she murmured a prayer of thanks to Amitabha.
"Thank goodness for Shao Zhen's outburst that day. If I had welcomed Wang Jing into the Tao residence at a time like this, wouldn't I have been needlessly adding trouble for Wenkan?"
The Wang family had suffered a great calamity—this news only reached Shao Zhen's ears two days later.
Having learned from Yun Yao that Tao Wenkan was likely unharmed, she felt at ease staying in her own residence, pondering when it would be appropriate to go to the Tao estate and make amends with Madam Xu.
But Wang Jing's matter hung between them, and it still stirred a measure of resentment in her heart.
She was the sort to muddle through life with her head down, unwilling to change the status quo unless pushed to the absolute brink. After all, Madam Xu had not sent anyone to demand an explanation from her, so she simply pretended not to know of her anger.
Who could have imagined that Wang Jing and Wang Qi, who had been throwing their weight around just days ago, would suddenly become prisoners in a cell, worse off than even herself?
Seizing civilian farmland, treating human life like grass, and privately forging Black Iron weapons within their estates—with these several charges stacked together, the Wang clan had no room for defense.
Mindful of the Wang clan's merit in supporting the emperor's ascension, His Majesty showed mercy and only ordered the clan members exiled and their assets confiscated to the state treasury. Such was the punishment on the surface, but what was done behind closed doors—that was anyone's guess.
Even though Shao Zhen disapproved of Madam Wang's actions, watching a distinguished noble family collapse and scatter before her eyes still stirred a sense of melancholy.
With Wang Jing gone, the friction between her and Madam Xu resolved itself naturally.
In truth, Shao Zhen was perfectly clear-headed—even without Wang Jing, Madam Xu would eventually find some other woman to insert herself between her and Tao Wenkan. But as long as life could still limp along passably, she was willing to turn a blind eye and find contentment in what she had.
That day, she brought a bowl of soup she had made herself and went to Madam Xu's quarters to offer her apologies. Madam Xu, likely aware that she had no leg to stand on in the Wang Jing affair, didn't make much of a fuss—she merely had Shao Zhen massage her legs from the side, and the rift was smoothed over.
Madam Xu had initially suspected that Shao Zhen had changed her ways, but seeing her with the same demure, downcast eyes as always, she felt reassured.
If Shao Zhen ever truly hardened her spine, with Tao Wenkan doting on her and shielding her, that would be a real problem.
Time flew by in the blink of an eye, and the torrential rains of June arrived without warning.
The camellias in the courtyard were the first to sense the oppressive heat, withering away one by one over these past few days.
The sky hung dark and heavy. A sudden flash of lightning tore through with the force to split heaven and earth, flickering bright then dim, followed by a series of rumbling thunderclaps—and then the rain came pouring down in sheets.
Shao Zhen stood beneath the eaves, absently counting the ripples spreading across the puddles.
Tao Wenkan had been away from home for a month now.
This was the longest they had been apart since their marriage—so long that Shao Zhen was nearly getting used to the taste of sleeping alone.
The pattering rain and the stifling, oppressive heat both weighed on her spirits.
She let out a long, slow sigh, set down her needlework, and was just thinking of taking a short nap when she saw Xiaowen running in with a face as pale as paper, drenched through to the bone.
"Madam, madam…" Having truly run all the way to her side, Xiaowen hesitated, unsure how to broach the subject.
These past days, Shao Zhen had been waiting day and night for Tao Wenkan's return, to the point that whenever someone knocked at the gate, she couldn't help asking the doorman who it was.
Time and again, she would light up with hope, only to have the light die out in disappointment—Xiaowen had quietly witnessed it all.
She missed Tao Wenkan so dearly, treating him as her sole pillar of support.
If she learned the terrible news… Xiaowen almost dared not think further.
"What is it?" Seeing Xiaowen's lips part and close as if she wanted to speak but held back, Shao Zhen dug her nails into her palm, a terrible possibility dawning on her. "Is—is it news of my husband?"
Having been seen through at once, Xiaowen pressed her lips together, a lump stuck in her throat, so tight that she couldn't force out a single word.
The more Xiaowen stammered, the more unsettled Shao Zhen became. She stepped forward, grabbing Xiaowen's hand, and pressed: "Tell me quickly, I'm listening."
Xiaowen's wrist ached from the grip, but she knew this matter couldn't be hidden forever. She steeled herself: "Madam, you must promise me first—no matter what happens, you must not do anything rash!"
A clap of thunder boomed in response, blasting Shao Zhen's mind into blankness.
She hadn't even registered what Xiaowen had said, merely nodding like a pestle pounding rice, hoping only that the other woman would give her a straight answer and stop making her guess wildly.
"My lord… he fell off a cliff. He's… he's likely gone."
At those words, the last trace of color drained from Shao Zhen's face in an instant.