Aside from that pair of pearl earrings of extraordinary significance, she took nothing else. She had even changed into the pale yellow jacket she had brought from the Shao household—the finest garment she had ever owned. Though the lapels had faded white from repeated washing, it was neat and clean.
Because her husband had just passed away, she had loosely pinned up her hair with a single white silk ribbon.
When Madam Xu entered the bedchamber, she saw her sitting at the edge of the couch, her pale face bearing a stillness that left one speechless.
"You do have some self-awareness, at least," the woman sneered coldly.
Shao Zhen lifted her eyes at this and addressed her one last time: "Aunt."
"Don't call me that!" Madam Xu shrieked like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. "You're not worthy!"
Just thinking about how Tao Wenkan had secretly sought her out before going to war, carrying that "letter of divorce," all so he could leave Shao Zhen a path of retreat—it made her tremble with rage.
Her foolish son had deliberated so thoroughly for the sake of such a woman, afraid of wronging her, unwilling to let her suffer even the hardship of widowhood.
Ridiculous. How could she ever allow Shao Zhen's name to be listed beside Tao Wenkan's in the family genealogy?
She was in no way fit to be a woman of the Tao family.
Madam Xu looked down at the young woman with contempt and signaled to the attendants following behind her. They flung a thin sheet of paper at her feet. Even though Shao Zhen had already guessed what it was, the sight of those ink-black characters reading "Letter of Divorce" still made her heart clench.
Black characters on white paper, listing her offenses: "bearing no son," "jealousy," "disobedience to elders"—crimes enumerated together, enough to brand her as a woman of moral failing.
With this letter of divorce in hand, who in the future would be willing to marry a woman whose reputation was utterly ruined?
Behind her, Xiaowen clenched her knuckles until they cracked, making as if to defend Shao Zhen's honor.
If the Tao family refused to acknowledge her as their daughter-in-law, so be it—but why must they go to such extremes, leaving them no path to survival?
Shao Zhen, however, sensed her movement and shook her head at her.
"Hurry up and press your fingerprint, then take your maidservant and leave."
Madam Xu glanced around the room, raised her hand to cover her nose in disgust, and gave advance instructions to the servants: "Later, rinse this entire place down with mugwort water to dispel the bad luck."
When Shao Zhen still showed no reaction after a long moment, she threatened, "I advise you not to refuse a toast only to be forced to drink a penalty. I have no desire to make this uglier than it needs to be."
The moment she finished speaking, the two maidservants rolled up their sleeves, ready to use brute force to seize her hands.
Having seen enough of their loathsome faces, Shao Zhen withdrew her gaze and said softly, "No need to trouble yourselves. I have my own hands."
She still couldn't understand how Madam Xu could have raised someone as good as Tao Wenkan—so good that she was almost reluctant to give up the title of his wife.
But what was never hers to keep would slip away like quicksand, impossible to hold onto.
This journey into Yingdu had been like a golden dream, but even the most perfect dream must come to an end. In the years ahead, she could only cling to this warmth and slowly savor it in memory.
She reached out, dipped her finger in the cinnabar ink pad, and pressed her fingerprint beside her name.
Madam Xu immediately retrieved the letter of divorce, examined it with satisfaction, then drew a sachet from her sleeve and said in a tone of charity: "Here—fifty taels of silver. Take it. I've done more than enough for you."
"Thank you for your generosity, Madam." Shao Zhen did not cling to any pride. In this world, a stiff backbone couldn't buy a hot meal. She had known hardship and understood clearly that without silver, nothing could be accomplished.
Seeing her actually bow to accept the sachet, Madam Xu's eyes filled with contempt.
It was only Tao Wenkan's kindness that had allowed him to be deceived by her, thinking she was no ordinary woman—pure, clean. What did such beautiful words have to do with her?
Then, Shao Zhen led Xiaowen out of the Tao residence.
Only when she stopped beneath the willow tree in front of the house did her heart suddenly ache with such intensity that she had to lean against the tree to keep herself standing.
"From this day forth, each shall marry as they please, never to contend again"—the words on the letter of divorce stabbed into her chest like a dull blade, their full force only now taking effect.
She wanted to vomit, but nothing would come up. Her throat merely spasmed. She hadn't eaten anything in days, so all that could rise was bitter, acrid bile.
She had thought all her hopes were extinguished, that her heart had grown cold enough that she would no longer weep weakly. But the dry heaving was too miserable, and she still squeezed out a few salty tears.
"Let's go." She gradually recovered, straightening her back.
Xiaowen asked her, "Madam, where do we go from here?"
Shao Zhen's eyes held the same bewilderment. After a moment, she said firmly, "Let's return to Pi County first."
No matter what, Pi County was the only place she knew besides Yingdu.
Even if Shaoye and Madam Cui had never treated her as a daughter.
She had considered taking this silver and settling in a new prefecture, but then what? She had been raised in the inner quarters since childhood, sent to a countryside estate at age ten. No one had ever taught her how to survive away from home.
The fear of the unknown made her retreat once more into her familiar comfort zone.
At the western corner, a carriage sat parked, its occupant taking in the pitiful state of the mistress and maid not far away.
Yun Cheng watched the young woman's slender retreating figure, and the question that had weighed on his mind for days finally found its answer.
From the moment he had ordered his driver to detour for a look, he had been forced to confront the fact that he had already harbored improper intentions toward her. Not only that—the desire he could not bear to part with was like poisonous miasma, or like vines; the harder he struggled, the deeper he sank.
Since he could not bear to eliminate it, the only option was to possess her.
What was so good about her that she was worth overturning his original plans? Yun Cheng asked himself.
What was not good about her? Innocent, kind, as if born to love—every time she loved someone, she gave her whole heart and soul.
Like that dying sparrow, whose eyes had once reflected only him.
Even her weakness and her less-than-remarkable looks became virtues worth mentioning—this way, she would cling desperately to him, and no one else would covet her.
She wanted someone to lean on—why could it not be him?
Now that neither he nor she was married, the last obstacle between them no longer existed. Marrying her, possessing her, to satisfy his desire—it was only natural.
Tao Wenkan had asked him to look after her; he had now resolved to see it through to the end and care for her for the rest of her life. If the man knew from the grave, he ought to be grateful.
What a perfect solution that benefited both sides. Yun Cheng nearly clapped his hands in admiration.
He was not Tao Wenkan, who needed his clan's approval. Yun Wenhu might grumble at first, but once he had set his heart on her, who would dare speak a word against her?
And what of her—would she be willing to accept him? He suddenly realized he had not yet considered Shao Zhen's wishes.
What Tao Wenkan could give her, he could do as well; what Tao Wenkan could not give her, he could also achieve.
In any case, he would not give her a reason to refuse. She would need him.
The matter that had troubled him for days finally had a resolution. In high spirits, Yun Cheng instructed his driver to follow them.
Shao Zhen and Xiaowen did not pause for a moment, carrying their travel permits toward the Western Market, but their progress was blocked by the surging crowd ahead.
Only after Xiaowen inquired did they learn that these were the soldiers returning in triumph from Lu City.
The sun shone warmly, gongs and drums clamored, and the streets were emptied as all turned out. At the head, seated on a fine steed, was the Third Prince, who had rendered great merit this time. It was said that as military advisor, he had devised the strategy for the generals to capture Lu City—a contribution too significant to be overlooked.
Common folk had always been fascinated by stories of the underdog rising; comparing the Third Prince's former concealment of his talents with his current dazzling display—who could resist such curiosity?
Listening to the festive music and the shouts all around, Shao Zhen remained silent, her eyes reddening.
So many soldiers had been able to return home, yet Tao Wenkan was forever buried in a foreign land, sleeping an eternal sleep.
She knew her thoughts were wrong, but for one brief moment, how she wished someone else had died in his place—how wonderful it would have been if he had come back alive instead.
Only after the crowd dispersed did she wipe away her tears and spend five taels of silver to hire a carriage.
From Yingdu to Pi County in Ruzhou was a journey of at least fourteen or fifteen days. The last time, Tao Wenkan had escorted her into Yingdu; she had been full of trepidation mixed with anticipation for a new life, and with her husband by her side, attentive throughout the journey, she had not found the bumpy ride particularly tiring.
This time was different. Within just three days, she had vomited violently twice, forcing the driver to slow their pace.
Taking the stream water Xiaowen had fetched, Shao Zhen sat on a stone by the bank, gazing at the mirror-clear surface. She had grown so thin that even she found herself unfamiliar, her face bearing a haggard, sallow pallor.
Even though she had never cared much about her appearance, anxiety began to creep in.
Shao Zhen! You cannot go on like this!
The sky had not fallen, the earth had not caved in—life had to go on as usual.
She could not help but think of her mother, who had died young. On her deathbed, the woman had touched her face with skeletal hands and, struggling to hold on, told her to live well, telling her that as long as she lived, there would be hope.
Young as she was and not understanding what life and death meant, she had simply nodded in agreement, hoping only to let her mother breathe her last without worry. Because she had kept that words close to her heart, even when she was later abandoned by Shaoye and Madam Cui to the estate, going hungry more often than not and suffering greatly, she had never once thought of ending her life.
Lord Tao, watching from above, would surely not want to see her so dejected either—he had always loved telling silly jokes to make her laugh.
She cupped the cool stream water and patted her cheeks, forcing a stiff smile.
Though the pain of losing a beloved was not so easily healed, she believed that with time, she would slowly find her way out of it.
Thinking of Tao Wenkan, she could not help but also think of Yun Cheng and Yun Yao.
She had left in such haste that she had not had the chance to bid them farewell. By all rights, she owed this pair of siblings a more sincere expression of gratitude—especially Yun Cheng. That day at the funeral hall, had it not been for his words silencing Madam Xu, the woman would never have let the matter rest so easily.
Their kindness to her was a debt she would repay with all her might, should fate ever grant them another meeting.
The wheels rumbled on, and after seventeen days of travel, her back ached, her eyes blurred, and her legs had gone weak—but at last she reached the borders of Ruzhou.
At the ferry landing, she exchanged the carriage for a small black-canopied boat. The boatman’s oars dipped and rose, making a soft creaking sound as they cut through the water.
Pi County was not large, but it was a fine place nestled between mountains and rivers. Countless streams and lakes wound through the area, stone bridges linking one to the next. Beneath the water, fish flicked their silver tails, and along the banks where boats were moored, women and maidens laughed and chatted as they washed silk in the shallows.
Hearing the familiar dialect all around her, Shao Zhen felt a complex knot of emotion—the nervousness of one returning home after a long absence.
She could already imagine the looks on Shaoye and the others’ faces when they saw her. Reproach and ridicule would surely be unavoidable.
The moment the servants outside the Shao residence caught sight of her and Xiaowen, they looked as if they had seen ghosts and immediately ran inside to announce their arrival.
Before long, Madam Cui emerged gracefully, flanked by two loyal and capable servants. Thanks to her careful attention to preserving her looks, the woman did not appear to be past forty. The charm that lingered at the corners of her eyes and brows hinted at considerable beauty in her youth—otherwise, she could not have held Shaoye’s favor for over twenty years, her position secure to this day.
Word from Yingdu had not yet reached Pi County, but as Madam Cui’s gaze swept over Shao Zhen’s worn garments, her expression shifted in an instant. “Oh my, isn’t this the Madam Tao? What brings you to think of visiting your natal home all of a sudden? Don’t tell me you’ve done something wrong and been cast out?”
Shao Zhen was too exhausted to argue. She pressed her nails into her palm and pleaded, “Mother, let’s go inside to talk, please?”