Wen Rao watched as this younger sister blossomed into a graceful, radiant beauty, her jealousy nearly driving her mad.
Yet on the surface, she maintained the demeanor of a refined young lady, speaking softly, "This is my younger sister, raised outside the family since childhood. It's her first time in such a setting, so she's unfamiliar with etiquette. Please, ladies, do not laugh at her."
"Raised outside? So she's the child of a concubine kept outside the household."
"Even proper young ladies must be carefully selected for their family background. As for one raised outside, we need not even look."
Several noblewomen wore expressions of disdain, as if genuinely selecting brides for their sons.
Wen Rao stepped forward, gently taking Wen Ning's hand and feigning concern. "My sister was born with a lovely appearance, but fate has been unkind to her. Just a few months ago, she married, but on the very first day, her husband passed away. Her flustered state today suggests she must have sneaked away from her husband's home again. I shall first take my sister to Sha Ge to rest and decide what to do next, so as not to disturb your enjoyment, ladies."
The plump, elegant noblewoman immediately released her grip. "What! So she's a widow—how inauspicious!"
"Her husband died as soon as she married him. Could she be cursed?"
"Indeed! And she even sneaked away. When choosing daughters-in-law, we must truly keep our eyes wide open. Otherwise, being deceived by such a creature would surely make us the laughingstock!"
Wen Ning paid no mind to their idle gossip, her only concern being whether the guards would come searching the pleasure boat.
Instead of taking Wen Ning to Sha Ge, Wen Rao led her to Di Cang.
Di Cang was dimly lit, with occasional flickering candlelight casting mottled shadows on the walls.
Wen Ning halted her steps, a sudden chill rising in her heart. She instinctively retreated, wanting to leave this place, but two matrons behind her abruptly seized her wrists.
"Ah! What are you doing…"
Coarse hemp ropes dug into her fair skin, her arms brutally twisted behind her back.
"You sneaked away from your husband's home. What if the Liu family comes demanding you back? I think it's best to tie my sister up first, lest she escape elsewhere again."
Wen Ning's wrists ached from the rough ropes, yet she straightened her back. "Sister, you are betrothed to Young Master Liu. You knew full well he was gravely ill and nearing death, yet you forced me to take your place in marriage. You didn't want to become a widow, so you imposed it on me. Now, not only do you show no remorse, but you blame me for running away?"
Wen Rao suddenly gripped her face, her nails nearly digging into the flesh. "This is your fate—a lowborn child of a concubine kept outside. Being able to marry in my place is your fortune. At the very least, you were a proper wife for a few hours! Otherwise, a nameless wretch like you would only be fit to marry a butcher or a lowly laborer."
Seeing her as utterly unreasonable, Wen Ning took a deep breath and shouted with all her might, "Help! Help…"
Wen Rao, witnessing this, sharply ordered the two matrons, "What are you waiting for? Hurry up and gag this wretch!"
Her mouth was instantly stuffed with coarse hemp cloth, stifling her cries for help, leaving only muffled "mmph" sounds.
Wen Rao stared at her, a strange smile suddenly curling at the corner of her lips. "How about we play a game… one we played as children…"
Wen Ning's pupils contracted sharply, cold sweat abruptly soaking her back.
Immediately, she was locked into a cramped, dark compartment. The low ceiling pressed down on her, making it impossible to straighten her back. Her nose was pressed against moldy wooden boards, with almost no space to move forward or backward.
She suffered from Wei Bi Zheng—a fear of confined spaces. Whenever she entered narrow, dark places, her breathing would become erratic and her mind would grow chaotic.
Wen Rao had known since childhood that she had this hidden affliction. Whenever their father brought her back to the estate, Wen Rao would use the excuse of playing together to lock her inside a sealed cabinet.
Only when she sensed Wen Ning was on the verge of despair and suffocation would she let her out, then innocently say: I just wanted to play hide-and-seek with my sister.
The damp, musty odor continuously seeped into her nostrils. The saliva-soaked hemp cloth clung tightly to the roof of her mouth. In the cramped space, her entire body could neither stand nor kneel properly.
The sound of her heartbeat in her chest suddenly amplified. Cold sweat trickled down her spine.
A few strands of hair clung stickily to her face. The wooden boards pressing against her on both sides seemed to contract in the darkness, intensifying the sense of confinement.
Wen Ning shifted her body, attempting to break free from the hemp ropes, but found it futile.
The darkness seemed to take on substance, pressing in from all directions. An invisible hand clenched around her chest, and Wen Ning felt she could hardly breathe.
Fine, fragmented white light began to flicker before her eyes. Her consciousness gradually blurred amidst the suffocation…
"Marquis…" Two words escaped her throat unconsciously. The outline of him she had traced grew clearer in the darkness.
Pain briefly sharpened her awareness once more, only for her to realize her surroundings remained the same suffocating narrowness and darkness.
Meanwhile, inside the Brocade Cabin, lanterns blazed brightly, and wine cups glimmered as they passed between fingertips.
With a sudden rustle, the screen door swung open, and the lively clamor in the room instantly quieted by a third.
The newcomer wore a robe of deep indigo brocade, a jade belt cinching his slender waist. With the bearing of a dragon and the grace of a phoenix, he was the very image of nobility from a distinguished lineage.
"It's the Marquis of An Yuan!"
Someone whispered in astonishment, and immediately, the rustling of garments filled the room.
Everyone sat up straight, their backs rigid. Even the most unrestrained young masters lowered their crossed legs.
First, an exquisite beauty had arrived, and now the Marquis of An Yuan—a nobleman with an almost celestial aura—had entered.
It was not a wasted trip.
Truly not a wasted trip.
The teacup in Wen Rao's hand suddenly tilted. She stared blankly at the man, feeling that all the men she had seen before were insignificant.
Wen Chi, who had been fondling a dancer's slender waist in Yun Ge, was hastily summoned downstairs. He hurriedly wiped the wine stains from the corner of his mouth with his sleeve. "I was unaware of Your Lordship's arrival and failed to welcome you properly. I beg Your Lordship's forgiveness."
Qing Feng stepped forward half a pace, cupping his hands in salute. "My lord has no intention of disturbing your enjoyment. He merely wishes to inquire: where is the young lady in the moon-white silk dress who was here earlier?"
Madam Ning and her daughter suddenly realized that the Marquis seemed to be looking for that little wench, Wen Ning. For a moment, they found it difficult to guess what was happening.
Wen Chi, having been in Yun Ge the entire time, was completely unaware of what had transpired below and had never seen a woman in a moon-white silk dress. Just as he was about to report this, Wen Rao preempted him.
Adjusting her hairpin, she said in a sweet voice, "Your Lordship, the lady you mentioned did indeed come earlier. However, she has already left and is no longer on this pleasure boat."
Although Wen Rao did not know what grudge existed between the two, if it were discovered that she had bound that wench and locked her in a sealed, dark compartment, what would others think!
From within the shadows cast by Xie Jinglan's brow, his eyes suddenly locked onto her. "Is that so? Yet someone witnessed her boarding this pleasure boat and never saw her leave. Are you certain she has gone?"
Wen Rao's raised lips froze when they met those icy, sharp eyes, sending a chill down her spine. Yet she forced herself to remain composed and said, "This humble woman is certain."
Xie Jinglan's gaze darkened, and Qing Feng immediately turned and took half a step forward. Over twenty guards had already filed in.
Qing Feng clasped his fists in salute once more. "Please continue with the banquet. We will not disturb your enjoyment while we search for the person."
In less than half a moment, Wen Ning, who had fainted in the Di Cang, was discovered by the guards.
The hidden compartment was so narrow it could only fit a small animal. Bound with coarse ropes, her disheveled hair clung to her pale face as she curled up in the corner.
Xie Jinglan's breath hitched. He tore the knots apart with brute force, then abruptly gentled his touch when his fingers brushed her skin.
He cradled her in his arms, wrapping her tightly in his black cloak, shielding her from any prying eyes.
Wen Rao knelt on the ground, shoulders hunched as she sobbed, her nails digging deep into the cracks in the floor. "This humble woman is wronged! She ran away from her husband's family. I was only… only afraid her husband's family wouldn't be able to find her…"
At this moment, jealousy was driving her mad. How could a married woman like her still have ties to the Marquis of An Yuan!
The crowd in the Brocade Cabin sighed at the sight. The Marquis of An Yuan… on good terms with a widow?
Xie Jinglan's gaze suddenly turned icy, sweeping over them like a blade scraping bone. "My woman is not for others to comment on!"