Ming Ying felt the world turn upside down before her eyes.
She didn’t know whether she had fainted from the pain or been struck unconscious by those words.
Even the blood flowing from her was cold, pooling on the ground and congealing into a piercing crimson.
"Was that order truly given?" The physician, bound by the healer’s compassion, couldn’t help but draw a sharp breath as he looked at the frail woman on the bed.
"Absolutely true!" the maid urged. "Hurry up! Just ensure the child is saved. Eldest Master will reward you handsomely upon his return."
Every word from that maid was like a sharp needle, piercing Ming Ying’s heart, scraping her bones and sucking her marrow.
She clenched her fists, nails digging into her flesh until her hands were covered in blood.
Only at this moment did she awaken as if from a dream. Her once bright, beautiful eyes, having endured torment and agony, now surged with a crimson hue.
So that was it…
So he had kept this child, trapped her by his side, all for this day.
He cherished the County Mistress’s inability to bear children and intended to give her child to the County Mistress to raise. As for her own life or death, no one cared.
Perhaps he had always planned to dispose of her once she gave birth. Now, he wouldn’t even need to do it himself.
Pain stiffened her entire body, and she let out a hoarse, agonized laugh—a sound of resistance, a cry for help.
But she was like fish on a chopping block, unable to resist and with no one to turn to. The only one who had cared for her, Ling Shuang, was gone.
Thinking of Ling Shuang, a sudden clarity struck her.
So he had ordered the dismissal of the maids she was close to and had Ling Shuang beaten to death—all to leave her isolated and helpless, to be left to die in the delivery room.
Her throat produced continuous rasping sounds, grating on the ears, heart-wrenching, filled with despair and resentment.
Pei Xiaoyun, why must you be so heartless?
I once gave you my whole heart.
Why do you disregard my life, why must you tear my child away from me?
Why won’t you give me a way out, why won’t you let me live?
Intense hatred ignited her scattered spirit. A sliver of light pierced her vision, and she took a few breaths of fresh air. Several voices clearly reached her ears.
"A-Ying, hurry and go with your brother. Live well!"
"Mother! Mother!"
In the dead of night, she ran wildly in the cold wind, hearing only her mother’s words: "Live well."
Chased by others, she stumbled and fell into a river. A pair of icy hands wrapped around her ankles, dragging her deeper into the water.
She spread her arms, mustering what little strength she had, and struggled inch by inch toward the surface until she broke free from those hands and glimpsed a sliver of daylight.
"It’s born! It’s born!" The midwife held the child. "It’s a little girl!"
Only when she heard the baby’s loud cries did Ming Ying shed warm tears. She had survived once again.
The light from outside the window fell on her pale face, and she suddenly realized it had been a long time since she had seen such beautiful sunlight.
Many servants flooded into the delivery room. Ming Ying’s consciousness wavered; she couldn’t see their faces clearly. She only stretched out trembling fingers, wanting to touch the baby’s soft, warm cheek.
"Hurry and take it out!" the maid who had delivered the message earlier scolded the midwife.
The midwife dared not disobey and quickly carried the child out.
Ming Ying watched as her child was taken away. Frantically, she pushed herself up. "My child, my child… Let me see her, just once…"
The child she had fought so hard to bring into the world, whose eyes, nose, and mouth she hadn’t even had a chance to see clearly, was taken away just like that.
The maid, though offering comfort, spoke with unusual sharpness: "Miss, the child was born prematurely and has been taken to the wet nurse to be raised. There is no need for you to worry. In the future, the County Mistress will not mistreat your child. Having a mother of your status would only bring shame upon the child."
Ming Ying watched her departing figure, sitting alone on the disheveled bed in a daze.
Shame? But that was her child, bound to her by blood!
Having narrowly escaped death, her hair was drenched, her face deathly pale. If not for the faint breath escaping her lips, she hardly looked alive.
Sacrifice the mother to save the child.
She was fortunate not to have died, but Pei Xiaoyun would not let her off easily.
Perhaps he would soon force a bowl of poison down her throat, or have her beaten to death like Ling Shuang.
She could not sit idly by and wait for death. Even with only half a breath left, she had to fight for a chance at survival.
After all, the child was his flesh and blood. Since he wanted the child, for the sake of his reputation, he likely would not treat her too harshly. Staying in the Guogongfu, where she would lack for nothing in food and clothing, was far better than remaining by her side.
She pulled out the bellyband she had sewn for the child, gently stroking the fabric as if caressing the child's face, whispering softly.
"Don't blame your mother for being heartless. Live well in this household."
The moon hung high in the sky, the chirping of insects piercing through the window screen.
Lady Lan had just instructed the servants to lower the beaded curtain and was about to close her eyes to sleep when hurried footsteps sounded from outside.
"Madam, that Ming Ying from the Eldest Master's quarters says she wishes to see you. She is waiting outside."
Lady Lan frowned in confusion. "Nanny Tian, have you lost your senses? Why are you bringing such a filthy, lowly servant into my courtyard?"
Having just heard from the servants that both mother and child were safe, she had thought the woman was surprisingly fortunate. What could she possibly want with her now?
"Drive her out. Don't dirty my place."
Nanny Tian looked troubled, twisting her handkerchief nervously. She leaned in and whispered a few words to Lady Lan.
Lady Lan's expression changed abruptly, a dark glint flashing in her eyes. "Let her in."
Ming Ying, draped in a blood-stained outer garment, had been kneeling outside for a long time.
Having just given birth, even in the sweltering summer heat, her body could not withstand the slightest breeze. Her hands and feet were as cold as iron.
Another half-hour passed before Nanny Tian emerged to lead her inside.
Following behind, she entered the room. Not a single maid was in sight—only Lady Lan sat alone at the head, her expression severe.
"You have some nerve!" Lady Lan glared at her fiercely, as if she wanted to tear her bones apart.
Had she known this would happen, she should have forced a strong dose of medicine down her throat during childbirth.
"Madam, please forgive me."
Ming Ying spoke slowly, gasping for breath even as she uttered each word. "What happened between you and the Second Master, I had intended to take to my grave. But now, with no way out, I can only beg for your mercy, hoping you will grant me a chance to live."
After speaking, she knelt and kowtowed several times, her head thudding against the floor.
After all, she was accustomed to bowing and scraping before others.
She was acutely aware of her situation. Having given birth to the child, her life could be taken at any moment.
It was only in the moment she gave birth that she truly realized how precious life was. Yet, she had seen so little of the clear skies and bright sun, the mountains and flowing waters outside.
She never expected that something she had witnessed long ago would become her only hope now.
"What do you want me to do for you?"
Lady Lan looked down at her from her lofty position.
Ming Ying slowly raised her head, from only glimpsing a pair of pearl-embedded shoe tips to gradually straightening her posture, meeting Lady Lan’s gaze. “I don’t need Madam to do anything, just let me go. For me, this is as difficult as climbing to the heavens, but for Madam, it’s as easy as lifting a finger. Once I’m gone, no one will know about that matter of yours.”
“And if I refuse?” Lady Lan said leisurely. “Only the dead keep secrets best.”
Ming Ying’s expression shifted slightly, then turned calm. “The Eldest Master has favored me for so long; I’ve built some connections. If I die, Madam’s secret will likely become known throughout the household. My intention isn’t to trouble Madam—I only seek a way out. Madam can simply drive me away like a stray dog.”
She clenched her icy fingertips in her sleeve, knowing this was her only gamble.
If Madam agreed, she would have a chance to live. If not, and Madam flew into a rage and decided to kill her, it would be no different from waiting to be executed by Pei Xiaoyun’s people.
Two pairs of eyes locked in a silent, tense standoff, neither willing to yield.
Finally, Lady Lan sneered, “Fine, I agree.”
At the very least, she couldn’t let her die in the household.
If even a word of it got out…
Ming Ying’s eyes stung, and a few tears fell onto the back of her hand.
“However, you must leave tonight,” Lady Lan said.
“Thank you, Madam!” Warmth surged in Ming Ying’s palms as she knelt again and kowtowed several times.
After Ming Ying left, Lady Lan frantically smashed objects in the room. The thought of Ming Ying’s face made her wish she could strangle her on the spot.
“Daring to threaten me?” When the commotion subsided, a ruthless smile appeared on her face, and she signaled Nanny Tian with a glance.
Nanny Tian immediately understood.
Ming Ying returned to Lanqing Zhuoyuan, took the basket of sachets she had embroidered during her pregnancy, then went to Ling Shuang’s room to retrieve the bundle entrusted to her.
As she stepped out, she saw the pipa lying horizontally outside the room.
That day, when they had forced her to move her belongings, they had thrown everything out, including this pipa.
The pipa had remained outside the door, and she hadn’t bothered to bring it in. Seeing it now, a surge of hatred welled up from deep within her. She grabbed the neck of the instrument and smashed it against the ground.
The neck shattered into pieces, the strings snapped and scattered. The past, like dust, vanished into thin air.
Fearing Ming Ying might try something, Lady Lan sent Nanny Tian to keep an eye on her, constantly urging, “Hurry up and leave. The side gate is open—Madam only gave you a quarter of an hour.”
Even though she spoke in a hushed tone, it still alerted the maids in the courtyard. One came out with a lantern to look, but as soon as she peeked out, Nanny Tian glared at her. “Wretched servant, what are you looking at?”
The maid immediately withdrew.
Ming Ying didn’t dare delay either. Negotiating with Lady Lan was like licking blood off a blade’s edge. Having finally fought for a way out, she hurriedly shouldered her bundle and followed Nanny Tian out through the side gate.
Once outside the estate, the night was eerily quiet.
The wind extinguished the lantern lighting her way, plunging everything into darkness. Unfamiliar footsteps approached.
Ming Ying’s hair stood on end, as if she sensed something. Before she could turn around, a blow struck the back of her head, and she lost consciousness.
…
Midnight. A flat cart traveled along a mountain path in the outskirts of the city. The wheels hit a rock, jolting the cart violently.
Ming Ying was jolted awake, her bones feeling as though they would fall apart, a sharp pain throbbing at the back of her head.
Dazed, she was about to turn over when she heard the voices of several men.
“It’s pitch black out here—what a nightmare. Can’t we just kill her and dump her by the roadside?”
Another chimed in, “No, Madam said she must be buried alive! And the body mustn’t be found, or it’ll cause trouble.”
Ming Ying's pupils contracted sharply, her hands covering her mouth and nose as she dared not make a sound.
Gradually, her consciousness returned. She remembered being knocked unconscious just after leaving the estate. So Madam had intended to silence her for good.
She dared not breathe loudly.
She had finally escaped.
She wanted to live.
The cart was pulled to a spot beneath a tree at the mountaintop. The men took shovels and began digging a hole under the tree, paying no attention to the person lying on the cart.
"Hurry up, put your backs into it! This place gives me the creeps!"
Seizing the moment while they were distracted, Ming Ying rolled sideways and tumbled into a thick, deep shrubbery. Her body was light, and she made little noise.
There was no path ahead at the mountaintop. Leaning on her weakened body, she stumbled downhill in the darkness.
The rustling of leaves startled crows into flight, their wings flapping noisily.
Behind her came the sound of chaotic footsteps, mixed with the men's curses.
They were chasing her.
Ming Ying clung to a thread of will, running so fast that she tripped over a rock. Even with her head bloodied and battered, she gritted her teeth and forced herself to stand.
Just a little longer—she couldn't stop now.
She had exhausted all her strength to escape; she couldn't just die here.
She refused to accept it!
Ahead, the path ended at a steep slope. She abruptly halted, kicking loose a few scattered stones.
The night was too dark to see how high or deep the slope was, or whether falling would shatter her bones.
Sensing the pursuers closing in, her breathing grew erratic and panicked, as if she were drowning and suffocating.
Every step she took was a gamble between life and death anyway.
What if she could survive? A sliver of hope was better than being buried alive.
She closed her eyes and rolled forward.
Shortly after, the men caught up to the spot. One of them wanted to continue the chase but was stopped: "Are you insane? That's a mass grave down there!"
"But Madam said…"
A few wolf howls echoed through the empty valley, their fierce and mournful cries sending chills down their spines.
"Wolves are all over that place. Do you think that little wench could still be alive? By morning, she'll be nothing but bones."
After some argument, they called off the pursuit and returned to report.
Ming Ying landed with a dull thud of pain, but fortunately, she fell onto something soft and didn't break her legs.
Struggling to stand, though she couldn't see, she seemed to touch something resembling a human face—cold, sticky, and reeking of decay.
Cold sweat beaded on her forehead as she realized this was a mass burial ground.
Yet, in a way, misfortune had turned to fortune—she was still alive.
She crawled through the pile of corpses for a long time before finally escaping the burial ground. Then, she walked along the road for what felt like an eternity until dawn broke in the east, and she finally reached the foot of the mountain.
Now, as the morning sun rose, the first gentle rays of light fell upon her, and she truly felt alive again.
The morning market bustled with life, filled with the sounds of carts and horses.
From her bundle, she took out a pile of embroidery and entered an embroidery shop. "Shopkeeper, would you be interested in buying these?"
The man glanced at her, noting her dirty clothes and shabby appearance, though the embroidery technique was passable. He casually handed her a hundred copper coins. "A hundred coppers. Take it or leave it."
"I'll take it." Overjoyed, Ming Ying set down the items and took the hundred coins.
These hundred coppers could save her life.
She was utterly exhausted and starving. With the money, she ate a full meal and spent two anxious days resting in a shabby inn.
After regaining some strength, she realized this couldn't go on.
If someone from Guogongfu discovered she was still alive…
She had to leave the capital.
But without enough silver or a travel permit, she couldn't leave the capital by land or water.
The full moon hung high in the sky. It was the fifteenth day of the sixth month, and she remembered—today was Ling Shuang's birthday.
She never imagined that in the end, she would be the one to leave the estate.
Alone.
Even in desperate straits, she still used the last of her money to buy a stack of spirit paper. Striking a match, she burned the papers one by one, tears dripping into the flames, instantly swallowed by the rolling orange blaze.
The fire burned fiercely, drying the tears on her face.
She solemnly knelt, facing the pile of ashes, and kowtowed heavily to Ling Shuang.
As she rose, she bumped into the brown bundle on the table.
This was Ling Shuang’s bundle; she had intended to entrust Ling Shuang’s belongings to her cousin once she reached Suzhou.
The bundle fell to the ground, its tightly tied knot coming undone. A travel permit landed heavily on her shoe, followed by a string of coins and two pieces of broken silver that rolled out.
Tears blurred her vision once more. Holding Ling Shuang’s travel permit and money, she would go to Suzhou in her stead.
The next morning, the red sun rose over the river, and the ferry bustled with people.
A passenger boat bound for Suzhou was filled with travelers. After her travel permit was inspected, Ming Ying boarded as she wished. The moment she stepped onto the deck, the heavy stone in her heart finally lifted.
The boatman cast off the anchor, the wind-filled sails billowed high, and the boat drifted away from the shore, slowly gliding onto the river.
Ming Ying sat by the cabin, opened the window, and the vast river wind blew open her collar, sending her hair dancing wildly.
In that moment, all she could hear was the roaring rush of the river.
…
Late July.
Pei Xiaoyun was still in Jinan Prefecture handling the case of embezzled relief funds.
The case was intricate and complex, and he had been delayed in Jinan for over a month.
News arrived from the capital: the emperor had passed away, and the crown prince had been assassinated. Following closely was the rebellion of Prince Yi, who had seized control of the imperial family.
Prince Yi’s rebellious intentions were clear; it was only a matter of time before he took up arms.
Pei Xiaoyun had originally intended to form a marriage alliance with Prince Yi’s household, first turning against Xiao Lang, then turning to gnaw at the tough bone that was Prince Yi.
But he never expected the old emperor to die so soon, plunging the capital’s situation into turmoil.
Jinan was close to the capital; letters took only three days to arrive. This meant the rebellion had occurred no more than five days prior, and Prince Yi’s troops stationed in the Northwest had yet to act.
If he could cut off this powerful backup, Prince Yi would be rendered powerless.
“Take my order and go to the Regional Military Commission to summon General Liang.” Now, in the provinces, he had no one else to rely on and could only stake everything on this move.
Liang Fei was a man of unwavering loyalty. As expected, upon hearing of Prince Yi’s plot to usurp the throne, he immediately agreed to lead troops with Pei Xiaoyun to the Northwest to capture the rebels.
Traveling day and night, they reached Shaanxi. Fortunately, Pei Xiaoyun had a map of the Northwest terrain that Lin Xian had drawn for him earlier. Following this map, they identified the likely hiding places of the rebel troops.
The Regional Military Commissions of the three prefectures in the Northwest dispatched troops up the mountains. Pei Xiaoyun sealed off the mountain exits and deployed forces overnight to encircle the rebels from both flanks.
The enemy was caught off guard. Pei Xiaoyun, clad in armor, declared, “Prince Yi has rebelled and has been captured. His Highness the Crown Prince has sent me to eradicate the rebel accomplices. If you cease your futile resistance, your lives will be spared.”
Leaderless, the enemy had no choice but to lay down their weapons and surrender.
The battle was well-prepared, and in less than a month, tens of thousands of rebel troops were eliminated. Among them, a minor garrison commander from Shaanxi Prefecture’s Regional Military Commission emerged unexpectedly, killing hundreds of enemies and earning the highest merit.
Pei Xiaoyun felt a measure of admiration for this man and wished to summon him for a meeting. However, he was told the man had already left. Upon inquiring about his identity, he learned he was the adopted son of the Zhejiang Governor, Shen.
Pei Xiaoyun gave it no further thought. With the battle won, it was time to return to the capital and deal with the mess there.
In the capital, dark clouds loomed over the city.
Since the Crown Prince's blood splattered the palace gates, Prince Yi had long sealed the city gates and taken control of the imperial guards to dominate the royal family.
Fearing troops from the nearby Huguang region might march on the capital, he had sent a secret letter a month ago, urgently summoning forces from the Northwest to rush into the capital. Yet now, not even a single hoofprint had been seen.
"Your Highness!!" A deputy general hurriedly came to report.
Prince Yi's eyes snapped open: "Have the Northwest troops arrived?!"
"The Northwest troops were ambushed by Duke Anguo! He… he is now leading his forces into the capital to protect the emperor!"
Duke Anguo was none other than Pei Xiaoyun, who had changed his title to An after inheriting the dukedom.
Prince Yi's vision darkened, and he coughed up a mouthful of blood before finally realizing: "I've been played by that bastard!"
The troops protecting the emperor smashed through the city gates, advancing with unstoppable momentum, and captured Prince Yi that very night.
The dark clouds that had shrouded the imperial palace for months finally dispersed.
After handling the aftermath throughout the night, Pei Xiaoyun was utterly exhausted. The sight of deep red stains flowing down the palace steps made his head throb with pain, the veins on his forehead pulsing violently, his entire body feeling as if it were being gnawed by insects and ants.
He realized the poison was flaring up and decided to return to his residence after leaving the palace.
He thought of Ming Ying—it had been so long since he last saw her.
He calculated that the child must have been born three months ago.
In the carriage, tormented by the pain, he fidgeted restlessly, as if a hand were constantly churning his thoughts.
He desperately wanted to see Ming Ying.
He imagined her finding the antidote for him, her soft hands gently massaging his forehead. Just thinking of it, he could almost smell her sweet fragrance, and his mind settled somewhat.
The carriage encountered an obstruction and came to a halt.
A disheveled woman with dirty clothes blocked the path in front of the carriage. The guards, thinking she was a beggar who had wandered over, kicked her aside.
"Brother A Yun!" The woman crawled up from the muddy water, pounding on the carriage wall, screaming hysterically.
Who could recognize this as the once lofty County Princess Jianing, Xiao Fuying?
She was no longer the noble and esteemed County Princess. Overnight, she had become the daughter of a disgraced official.
Kong Qing spoke toward the carriage: "Eldest Master, it is County Princess Jianing."
Pei Xiaoyun waved impatiently: "Drive her away."
Hearing his indifferent tone, Xiao Fuying's heart sank. She tugged at the carriage curtain and shouted: "Brother A Yun, it's me! Don't you recognize me? I've been waiting for you to return so we could marry…"
Her clamoring only made Pei Xiaoyun more agitated. Recalling Xiao Fuying's past coercion, his eyes turned bloodshot with crimson streaks.
He had sworn he would not let these people off easily.
"Kong Qing, don't let her speak again."
Returning to the residence, he headed straight for Lanqing Zhuoyuan. His steps were unsteady, his mind in turmoil from the poison.
All the servants in the courtyard, seeing his return, lined up to bow.
Pei Xiaoyun paid them no mind and went first to his own room. Not seeing Ming Ying there, he felt an unprecedented emptiness in his heart.
He recalled she had been sulking when he left. Could it be that after all this time, she still hadn't gotten over it?
He hurried to her room, calling out: "Mian'er, Mian'er?"
Pushing open the door, he found nothing inside. The furnishings had been completely cleared away, leaving only an empty bed.
His hands trembled, and his fierce gaze swept over the row of servants.
"Eldest Master, please accept our condolences!"
The maids knelt and wept: "Miss Ming was ill-fated… she died in childbirth!"
Pei Xiaoyun felt as if a thunderbolt had struck his mind, leaving his limbs cold and numb. He saw the maids' lips moving rapidly but could not make out what they were saying.
The empty room was dim and cold, as if it might collapse at any moment. The chill seeped into his bones, merging with the pain. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead as he bent over and spat out a mouthful of black blood.
"Eldest Master! Eldest Master!"
When Pei Xiaoyun awoke, the night outside the window was as dark as ink, and the rain fell in fine threads.
The medicine he had taken before losing consciousness had already neutralized the poison, but his mind remained hazy. He grasped at the fog in his thoughts, finally clearing it somewhat.
Suddenly, the words of those people from when he had fainted echoed in his ears.
But how could he believe it? He choked out a scornful laugh: "Go and call Ming Ying over. If she dares to be angry again, I'll send her back to Yangzhou, back to Mianyuelou."
Wasn't she just throwing a tantrum with him?
Her courage had grown even greater, daring to hide from him.
Kong Qing pursed his lips, steeling himself as he said, "Eldest Master, please restrain your grief. They all said that not long after you set off, Miss Ming went into premature labor. Only the child survived; her remains have already been buried!"
Listening to Kong Qing's words, Pei Xiaoyun lowered his head to look at the shadows swaying across the floor. His complex gaze wavered along with them, his heart feeling hollow. For some reason, a trace of panic crept in.
How could it be?
Every time he went away on official business, she would wait at home for his return, greeting him with a smiling face, asking if he was thirsty or tired.
How could she be dead!
How could it be?
The words "difficult labor" pierced his heart like claws scratching, tearing through flesh layer by layer.
He thought of how her health had always been poor—a mere cold would keep her bedridden for two or three days. She had even taken medicine to induce an abortion once. Though she was treated in time, her complexion had grown even more haggard than before.
He was not afraid of the cold, yet he truly felt a chill wrapping around his heart.
The two or three maids and older women in the courtyard who knew the truth had been tightly controlled by Lady Lan, their families' lives held in her grasp, not daring to utter a single word.
Pei Xiaoyun summoned these people inside. One by one, they knelt and kowtowed desperately, all claiming that she had died from difficult labor.
He sat through the night, his eyes open until dawn.
He had originally thought that with Crown Prince and his faction pressing him so hard, once he returned, he would send Ming Ying to a secluded place and fake her death to temporarily placate them.
After all, he wouldn't have to deal with those people for much longer. Once the situation stabilized, he would bring her back.
He had planned everything.
Yet everything had turned out differently from what he had imagined.
Those events had happened ahead of schedule, and she too…
His mind remained clouded, constantly feeling as if her presence lingered everywhere in the room and the courtyard.
She approached, carrying a cup of osmanthus-infused dew, her steps graceful, the wind carrying her fragrance. She smiled sweetly and asked, "Young Master, this is a new tea I brewed. The timing was just right, and I added a bit of honey."
As if guided by some unseen force, he reached out and touched the warm cup. His gaze followed that hand, slowly moving upward. Her features suddenly vanished, replaced by the face of an unfamiliar woman.
"Eldest Master, have a cup of tea."
Bi He, relying on her somewhat attractive appearance, saw an opportunity where others dared not approach Pei Xiaoyun in his grief.
The lingering trace of his tender dream was shattered by her intrusion. He grabbed the teacup and hurled it to the ground, a fierce glint flashing in his eyes.
Bi He fell to her knees with a thud, weeping pitifully, as a cold voice hung above her head.
"Who told you to pack away her things?"
In her room, not a trace of her remained, as if she had left completely, without a shadow or a trace.
As if she had never existed.
Bi He naturally did not dare to answer, quickly shifting the blame: "Eldest Master, please see clearly, we wouldn't dare! It was the County Mistress's maid who came by, saying that Miss Ming's room would be given to the County Mistress's dowry maid in the future. She forced us to pack everything away."
Pei Xiaoyun was so angry he let out a cold laugh, his gaze dark and menacing as he stared at her. "Traitorous wretch, whose people are you? Whose orders do you follow?"
Since when did outsiders have a say in his courtyard?
"Eldest Master, spare me! Spare me!"
Pei Xiaoyun’s vision spun, the world tilting before his eyes. When he closed them, all he could see was Ming Ying’s figure, yet he was dragged back to reality by the incessant, grating noise around him.
He punished those who had failed in their duties with brutal severity.
Bi He was beaten until her leg broke, fainting on the spot before being dragged away. Several others lost their lives right then and there, and the courtyard was soon awash with blood.
He ordered the room to be restored to its original state, and the glaring red silk decorations in the courtyard were meticulously rehung, only to be torn down once more.
A servant brought the child in for him to see. Swaddled in blankets, the infant was fast asleep, tiny fists clenched tightly.
He studied his daughter carefully.
Perhaps she had been exposed to the sun when she was carried over, for her skin still held a faint pink hue. Her small mouth and nose, and even with her eyes closed, he could imagine them opening to reveal large, round eyes.
Just like her. Everything about her was just like her.
Hadn’t she cared most about this child? How could she bear to abandon her and die?
She once said she was willing to stay by his side for the rest of her life to repay his kindness. Was this how she repaid him?
"Eldest Master, please give the young lady a name."
"Take her away for now. Raise her well."
Pei Xiaoyun had no mind for such things at that moment. He was lost in the news of Ming Ying’s death, alternating between cold laughter and heavy silence. Fingering the tasseled cord she had made for him, his thoughts drifted far away.
Kong Qing entered: "Eldest Master, several senior officials from the Grand Secretariat have come to invite you to discuss matters."
Pei Xiaoyun remained silent, as if lost in thought. After a long while, he finally spoke slowly.
"Where is she buried?"
He gave a cold, self-mocking shrug.
When she left, she was a living, breathing person who could speak and argue with him. Now, upon his return, she had become nothing but a handful of yellow earth?
He had to see her, alive or dead!
"She is buried… at Qingmeng Mountain in the outskirts of the city."
Qingmeng Mountain in the outskirts was a fine burial ground.
Most of those interred there were concubines from noble families who had not yet been entered into the clan registry.
For Ming Ying to be buried here was, in a way, an elevation of her status.
Pei Xiaoyun stepped down from the carriage, the hem of his lake-blue robe stirring a cold breeze. Before him lay a mound of yellow earth and an empty, unmarked tombstone.
He didn’t understand what was happening to him. After all, she was merely a servant who had accompanied him for many years, someone he had shared some affection with.
Yet for the first time, he felt an elusive emptiness in his heart, a void that nothing could fill.
Was she really buried here, lying cold within that mound of earth?
If only he hadn’t forced her to drink that abortion concoction…
But he quickly cut off that line of thought.
Her death had come without warning. Ever since arriving in the capital, she had grown bolder, daring to play along with Lin Xian right under his nose and even daring to be angry with him. How could he be sure this wasn’t another one of her tricks?
Even if there was only the slightest possibility, he had to see her face with his own eyes.
Raindrops fell, drifting gently onto Pei Xiaoyun. He walked forward step by step, his voice calm and detached: "Someone, dig up the grave."
Kong Qing had assumed he was there to mourn Miss Ming. The sudden order to exhume the grave startled him.
"Eldest Master, the dead cannot return to life. This must not be done!"
"I said, dig up the grave," Pei Xiaoyun repeated.
The rain poured down, the mountain forest silent and still. Several shovels plunged into the earth, steadily scooping out yellow mud as the once-level mound began to collapse.
With each scoop, Pei Xiaoyun’s eyes darkened further.
To his own surprise, he felt a flicker of fear—fear that it would truly be her face.
Finally, a corner of a pink skirt was unearthed, and along with the soil came a red coral hairpin.
It was the dress he had given her, the hairpin he had bestowed upon her.
His eyes were wide with fury, these objects like sharp thorns piercing deep into his vision, his pupils surging crimson as the throbbing pain in his temples flared once more.
His poison was flaring up with such alarming frequency now.
The dress, stained and soiled with mud, resembled a withered flower blooming larger and larger before his eyes.
He seemed to see her wearing this very dress, that hairpin in her hair, walking back and forth before him—somewhat bright, somewhat bashful.
Kong Qing could bear it no longer and turned away. "Eldest Master, Miss Ming was also a pitiable soul. She simply lacked the fortune to remain by your side. Please, let her rest in peace."
Pei Xiaoyun felt dizzy and lightheaded, leaning against the carriage as he gasped for breath. A surge of blood rose from his chest to his throat; it seemed that one more glance would make him vomit blood as he had yesterday.
"Stop, stop!" he shouted.
The yellow earth was covered back over, as if nothing had ever happened.
He thought, she was afraid of the cold. If only he had returned a few days earlier, he could have prepared a coffin for her. Now, her remains were likely already decayed. Moving the coffin now would only disturb her peace.
"Clear the area and build a mausoleum here."
For the next two months, Pei Xiaoyun buried himself in piles of political affairs to avoid thoughts of Ming Ying.
Having rendered meritorious service in rectifying injustices, many now looked to him as their leader. With the Crown Prince dead, the only legitimate successor was the five-year-old Imperial Grandson.
Under the title of Imperial Tutor, Pei Xiaoyun assisted the young emperor in governance. He made examples of some to warn others, employing both kindness and authority. First, with swift and decisive measures, he eradicated a number of powerful families, reformed the imperial examinations, and won the people's hearts.
No one in the court dared voice dissent anymore; instead, many officials rushed to show their goodwill, offering gold, silver, jewels, and beautiful concubines.
He accepted neither wealth nor women, and he noted down the names of these sycophants for strict investigation later.
After a day of toil, he finally returned to his residence.
Lanqing Zhuoyuan was enveloped in deathly silence.
Since Ming Ying's death, he had grown averse to returning home. Each time he did, it felt as if a pair of hands were tightening around his throat, making it hard to breathe.
Finally finding a moment of leisure, he went to check on his daughter in her room. The night was deep, and the little one in the cradle was either awake or had not yet fallen asleep.
Seeing him enter, she simply stared at him with wide, unblinking eyes—not crying, not fussing—unusually well-behaved.
Just looking at her filled Pei Xiaoyun with a profound sense of loneliness.
The child bore an eighty percent resemblance to her.
Remembering that the child still had no name, he quickly walked to the desk, spread out paper, took up a brush, and with bold, sweeping strokes, wrote two characters.
Yu'an.
Her childhood name would be An'an.
Suzhou.
Swallows arrive with the new spring festival; pear blossoms fall after Qingming.
In late spring, the courtyard wall of the last house in Apricot Blossom Lane was adorned with potted plants, the most splendid among them being several pots of white camellias.
This household bore the surname Shen. The elders had passed away from illness, leaving only the Shen daughter living alone. Not long ago, a distant relative named Shen Ying came to the Shen family.
From then on, two women of the Shen family lived together as companions.
"Ah Ying, since you arrived, my family's shop has come back to life," Shen Yao said, her eyes gleaming as she looked at the two plates of meat on the table. "Life has truly improved now."
Ming Ying, her hair half tied up in a bun, looked radiant and more spirited than she had a few months earlier. She counted out several strings of coins and handed them to Shen Yao. "This is the profit from the spice shop this month. It's all for you."
Nearly half a year had passed since she first arrived in Suzhou.
That day, when she reached Suzhou, she collapsed at the ferry port, and it was Shen Yao who saved her.
Having given birth without timely rest and recuperation, her body had been overwhelmed, accumulating fatigue and illness. During the months she convalesced at the Shen household, it was always Shen Yao who spent money on her medicine.
Shen Yao, an orphan who had lost both parents, was taken in with the intention of keeping her as a companion. To avoid complications, she also adopted the surname Shen.
After recovering her health, she suggested to Shen Yao that they convert an unused family shop into a spice store.
Having previously learned the art of incense-making, and with the shop located opposite Baili Qing, the largest entertainment house in the area, women flocked daily to purchase fragrances, and the business flourished.
She gave all the profits to Shen Yao as a way of repaying her kindness.
“Being able to enjoy so many good things is all thanks to you. Before you came, my family’s shop was almost taken away by relatives.” Shen Yao did not take it all, pushing half back. “This is yours. Keep it.”
Ah Ying was so capable, treating her to fine food and drink, and she no longer had to endure others’ disdain. Shen Yao was immensely grateful, and such friendship could not be measured in money.
Unable to resist her insistence, Ming Ying kept the money. “Alright then, I’ll cook you more meat dishes.”
The clinking of bowls and plates was crisp and pleasant, while a breeze swept through the hall, lifting the curtains and carrying a faint floral fragrance.
She turned to look at the camellias planted in the small courtyard. At Guogongfu, they never thrived, but here, they bloomed so beautifully.
From giving birth to escaping death, it felt as though she had died and been reborn.
Looking back now, it all seemed like a dream.
Fortunately, it was all in the past.
No matter how unbearable or turbulent the past had been, she now had a home.
“Ah Ying, a new musician is coming to Baili Qing tonight to compose a piece. Whoever can play his composition and win the competition will become a star at Baili Qing.” Shen Yao was eager for tonight’s contest.
Shen Yao’s mother had been a qin player at Baili Qing during her lifetime, so Shen Yao also loved various string instruments. Upon learning that Ming Ying could play the pipa, the two found common ground.
The spice store did not open at night, so Ming Ying and Shen Yao would go to Baili Qing to play the pipa. Occasionally, when new compositions required accompaniment for dance, they would also perform, receiving payment after each show.
With nothing else to do in the evenings, they could earn extra income.
Ming Ying asked, “Is it that musician Xu from last time?”
Shen Yao shook her head. “I heard this person is much more skilled than musician Xu. I don’t know him either, but we’ll find out when we go.”
After the meal, the two went to Baili Qing.
Music, chess, calligraphy, painting, poetry, wine, flowers, and tea have always been refined pursuits since ancient times. It is said that above there is paradise, below there are Suzhou and Hangzhou, with Suzhou’s literary and musical arts ranking among the finest.
Thus, Suzhou’s Baili Qing could rival the capital’s Fuguang Lou.
Today, with a musician composing a new piece, the crowd at Baili Qing was twice as large as usual, with every seat on the first floor filled by men, women, and children of all ages.
After changing clothes and picking up their pipas, Ming Ying and Shen Yao received a sheet of the new composition.
The piece was composed on the spot by the musician, with each participant given only a quarter of an hour to prepare. They drew lots to determine the order of performance, and the audience would select the best performer, who would then become a musician at Baili Qing.
Ming Ying glanced over the composition, remaining calm and composed.
Though complex, it was an excellent piece, revealing the composer’s profound skill and mastery.
Five contestants participated tonight, all having passed through rigorous selection.
Shen Yao drew her lot and performed first. In her nervousness, she missed a beat. Realizing her mistake, she finished playing and hurried offstage, her face flushed.
“It was good. Your performance on the upper strings was excellent,” Ming Ying patiently comforted her before it was her turn.
She believed the piece should be played slowly. With delicate hands, she plucked the strings gently, the sound flowing like a clear, murmuring stream—soothing and pleasant, like the chime of jade, pure and resonant.
The tempo was perfectly balanced, without a single stumble or moment of panic. As the piece concluded, she bowed gracefully.
Then, thunderous applause erupted from below, surging like waves.
In the elegant private room on the second floor, a pair of gentle eyes was also watching her.
Shen Yao patted her chest and confidently declared that tonight's top prize would undoubtedly be hers.
Ming Ying remained silent. She wasn't trying to compete for anything, and even if she lost, it wouldn't matter.
She simply felt that such an excellent piece deserved to be played with care for the guests, so as not to disappoint their expectations.
After the remaining four performers finished, the audience used bamboo sticks as votes to select the winner.
Ming Ying waited quietly as the attendants counted the bamboo sticks.
When the votes were tallied, the winner was Hua Rao.
"How could it be her? She made several mistakes. Couldn't they hear it?" Shen Yao had long heard that Hua Rao had secretly invited many people to support her in her bid for the top prize. "These people are like oxen chewing peonies—mountain pigs unable to appreciate fine grain!"
Ming Ying's long lashes swept downward, and she fell silent for a moment. Then, she restrained Shen Yao, who was eager to voice her indignation: "The pieces the guests enjoy are the good ones."
"Is that really enjoyment? They clearly—"
"I believe the voting tonight is biased."
A clear, resonant male voice from the second floor interrupted Shen Yao's words and also halted the applause.
Following the gazes of the crowd, Ming Ying looked toward the source of the voice and saw a man dressed in white, with an elegant and refined demeanor, walking over with his hands clasped behind his back.
Her pupils dilated, and her heart seemed to skip a beat.
As the man drew closer, his features became clearer. She recognized Lin Xian, her heart filled with surprise.
Mr. Lin was, in a way, an old acquaintance.
So, this piece was composed by him. No wonder.
Lin Xian met her gaze and gave her a slight nod. Out of courtesy, she nodded in return, but then, as if remembering something, a wave of discomfort twisted in her heart, and she hurriedly lowered her head.
Someone from the audience asked, "Why do you say that, Mr. Lin?"
"I am but an unworthy talent. The piece just performed was actually composed by me. The inspiration came from my travels to Qingxi Mountain, where I saw many natural sights and felt a profound sense of peace and leisure. Miss Hua Rao's rendition was rushed and unrestrained. Though the rhythm was clear, it strayed far from the original intent of the piece."
Lin Xian looked at Ming Ying. "But this young lady's performance was gentle and graceful, as soft as a spring breeze turning into rain. Listening to her, it was as if the scenery of Qingxi Mountain appeared vividly before my eyes. Therefore, I believe this young lady deserves the title of winner."
The audience murmured among themselves, nodding in agreement.
Hua Rao glared at Ming Ying, her face flushed with shame and anger, grinding her teeth in frustration.
Ming Ying's face burned fiercely, and she dared not lift her eyes to look at Lin Xian.
Her fingers twisted the fabric of her dress as she sank into deep embarrassment—a shadow from her past.
She had thought her encounter with Mr. Lin was merely a fleeting one, and they would never meet again. Yet, she never expected to reunite in such a setting.
Lin Xian walked over to her and handed her the flower card symbolizing the top prize. "Tonight's winner should be you."
From the moment he saw her at Baili Qing tonight, he had been deeply shocked.
He knew what kind of person Pei Xiaoyun was, and he could see that Pei Xiaoyun treated her poorly.
She was like a flower meant to grow toward the sun, yet he had broken her branches and crushed her into the mud.
In the days after leaving the capital, her image would occasionally flash through his mind, accompanied by sighs and regret.
Now, seeing her again, after the initial surprise, he felt she had been reborn, completely different from the frail and timid woman she once was.
Half a year is long, yet half a year is also short.
He still didn't know what had happened, but he felt fortunate to see her like this.
Finally, Ming Ying slowly raised her head, looked at him, and then at the crowd below the stage, accepting that flower note.
"Thank you, Mr. Lin."
The flower note was tightly gripped in her hand—it belonged to her now.
It was all in the past. What was there to hold onto?
One year after the new emperor ascended the throne, the imperial examination system was reinstated, selecting talents from humble backgrounds. Several powerful aristocratic families that had monopolized power fell one after another.
The young emperor, only six years old, was still learning the characters from Essentials of Governance under the guidance of the Grand Tutor. The decisive and ruthless measures were naturally the work of Duke Anguo, Pei Xiaoyun.
Over the past year, he had monopolized decision-making, his word being law.
Having reached the level of regent, it was inevitable that some would label him a treacherous minister. Assassins came after him like schools of fish crossing a river.
Yet, with the emperor incompetent and the court in disarray, no one could kill him.
The imperial clan was withering, and among the officials below, many harbored ambitious intentions. Everyone wanted to control the emperor to command the nobles, but not everyone had the capability.
Since Ming Ying's death, the intervals between Pei Xiaoyun's poison flare-ups had grown shorter, more agonizing than before. He often lay awake at night, her shadow haunting him whenever he closed his eyes.
This morning, he woke from a light sleep, the throbbing in his temples still lingering. He had barely slept half an hour, and the sky outside was already bright.
Suddenly, he remembered: the ninth day of the eleventh month was Ming Ying's birthday.
Kong Qing knocked on the door, delivering something he had requested: "Eldest Master, Minister Xu from the Ministry of Justice sent over the boarding records from a year ago for ships departing from the capital to Suzhou, as recorded by the Navigation Department."
"Leave it in the study. I'll look at it this afternoon." Pei Xiaoyun rubbed his temples, his vision finally clearing a little.
He wanted to make time to visit Baimasi first.
She kept appearing in his dreams, disturbing his sleep. Was she still blaming him for forcing her to drink that medicine?
A bitter, helpless smile tugged at his lips as he changed his clothes and set off for the ancient temple.
Baimasi's incense offerings continued unbroken, with countless commoners traveling from the south and the Northwest, some from thousands of miles away, to pay respects to their departed loved ones.
This was a place he had never visited before—he did not believe in gods or Buddhas.
But since she had been devout in life, he would light a lamp for her, hoping she could see it.
He wanted to tell her that he had never intended to kill her. Even forcing her to abort the child was a temporary measure, for her own good.
He hoped she would no longer resent him, leaving him without a moment's peace.
"Patron, are you lighting a lamp for a departed one?" An elderly monk in kasaya robes, noticing his distinguished attire, asked a few more questions. "May I ask which departed one you are commemorating?"
Pei Xiaoyun did not answer, his gaze fixed on the rows of bright lamps, his voice slightly hoarse. "Light one, please."
A young novice brought out a new lamp, affixed a blessed Buddhist seal to it, poured in wax oil, and lit it.
"For whom is this lamp lit? Please inscribe the name, patron."
Pei Xiaoyun picked up a brush, dipped it in ink, but hesitated, hovering over the lamp's surface. Finally, with a firm press of his wrist, he decisively wrote four characters:
Beloved Concubine Ming Ying.
Returning to the estate, Pei Xiaoyun went to his study to attend to official matters.
The boarding records delivered by the Ministry of Justice that morning were placed in the most prominent spot on his desk.
The realm was not yet stable, and the remnants of the previous dynasty's Kongchan Sect were growing increasingly brazen. These individuals had spread across various regions, even forming connections with many local officials, extorting wealth from the people, inciting unrest, and plotting rebellion.
After investigating for several months, he discovered that as early as a year ago, the leader of the Kongchan Sect had gone undercover and infiltrated the capital under a false identity. Using forged travel permits, they had boarded a ship from the capital's port bound for Suzhou.
However, it was possible this person had disembarked at other prefectures along the way, making the search as difficult as finding a needle in a haystack.
Fortunately, whether passenger or merchant ships, as long as they departed from provincial ports within the past three years, their passenger manifests could be checked at the Navigation Office.
Simply follow the manifest to locate this person, find out where they disembarked, and their trajectory could be largely determined.
A year ago, this ship bound for Suzhou carried thirty-one people.
He opened the register, and names appeared before his eyes one by one.
That person had once used a fake travel permit to evade investigation in a case, reportedly surnamed Hu.
Following each character down the list, he indeed found a person with the surname Hu in the register.
He called Kong Qing in, pointed at the suspicious name, and instructed him to send it to the Ministry of Justice for investigation.
Kong Qing noted it down and was about to close the door on his way out.
"Wait."
Pei Xiaoyun suddenly stopped him, his deep eyes lingering thoughtfully on another name.
This name seemed somewhat familiar, and its appearance here was rather unusual.
"Does the Eldest Master have any further instructions?"
"Come here." Pei Xiaoyun waved him over, picked up a brush, and circled those three characters. "Take this name to the estate and find Steward Feng, who handles the purchase of servants. Ask him about the maid named Ling Shuang who used to work in the front courtyard—find out if this is her real name."
For some reason, something tugged at his heart, making him deeply uneasy. Unconsciously, he felt compelled to dig deeper into this lead.
An hour later, Kong Qing returned.
"Eldest Master, Steward Feng checked the purchase register. It is indeed Ling Shuang's real name, matching the one recorded on this travel permit. Her ancestral hometown and age also align."
Pei Xiaoyun's thoughts froze for a moment. He sank heavily back into his armchair, as if trying to bore a hole through that name with his gaze.
Ling Shuang had betrayed him, and he had long ago ordered that she not be spared.
Why would the travel permit of someone long dead appear on a ship bound for Suzhou?
And Ming Ying had spent all her time with her…
More absurd thoughts kept surfacing, leading him to suspect something.
"Go and find all the maids who served in the courtyard when Ming Ying gave birth."
He wanted to question them thoroughly and meticulously—how exactly had she died? If she truly had died, he needed to hear the entire process, from the onset of labor to her last breath.
Many of the former maids had been beaten to death by him, leaving only two old women. Under questioning, they indeed described the difficult childbirth process clearly and in detail.
Pei Xiaoyun's suspicion was like a fuse—even if the flame was extinguished, a few sparks still flickered.
"Was there no one else?"
Kong Qing replied, "There was also Bi He, who is lame in one leg and now works as a laborer in the storeroom."
Pei Xiaoyun suddenly remembered this person. "Bring her to me."
Lady Lan was playing with a cat when the snow-white feline suddenly extended its sharp claws, leaving a red scratch on her wrist.
"Ouch, you wretched beast!" She flung the cat to the ground and was about to order someone to deal with it when Nanny Tian rushed in, flustered and nearly stumbling.
"Madam, something terrible has happened! The Eldest Master is questioning people again about that former chamber maid!"
Lady Lan tightened her grip on her handkerchief, a flicker of panic crossing her heart as she sharply turned to look at her. "How did you handle things back then?"
Those were all servants from Pei Xiaoyun's courtyard. If they had all been killed at the time, it would have only aroused his suspicion.
She had no choice but to firmly grasp their weaknesses. She had thought the storm had passed, but she never expected him to investigate again. How deeply he must have cared for that wretched maid!
"Those two old women have children and grandchildren—they would never dare to say anything," Nanny Tian said anxiously. "But there's also a maid named Bi He. Her only sister outside the estate died of illness not long ago."
"She cannot be left alive. Go and take care of it quickly," Lady Lan urgently ordered.
The night was as cool as water.
Bi He limped back from the gatehouse and sat alone on the steps, intense hatred flashing in her eyes.
She still had a seriously ill younger sister outside. Madam had promised her that as long as she swallowed that matter back into her stomach, she would treat her sister's illness.
But the gatekeeper Guizi had sent her a message, saying her sister had died from illness at home without money to buy medicine, and no one had known for half a month.
She had also lost a leg for nothing. If she had spoken up back then, how could she have ended up like this!
The door of the duty room was kicked open. She saw Nanny Tian barging in with two other women, full of imposing manner.
Panicked, she hid behind a pillar under the corridor, listening carefully to the commotion inside.
"Where is Bi He?"
A fellow servant answered, "She was here just now. Perhaps she went to relieve herself."
Nanny Tian anxiously ordered, "Quick, go find her."
Bi He's heart sank, her palms breaking out in cold sweat. She struggled to walk out of the courtyard, sneering bitterly as she went. Her sister was dead, and now Madam wanted to silence her too.
Carrying a lantern, she trudged with difficulty toward Lanqing Zhuoyuan.
If she confessed, perhaps Eldest Master would spare her life.
She ran headlong into the people Pei Xiaoyun had sent to find her, clutching at this lifeline as she cried out, "I want to see Eldest Master! I have something to tell Eldest Master!"
Pei Xiaoyun sat in an armchair, legs spread apart, feigning sleep with his eyes closed, as absurd and bizarre thoughts swirled relentlessly in his mind.
Restless and unsettled, he suddenly opened his eyes upon hearing a heavy thud.
"Eldest Master, she's here."
Bi He knelt in the courtyard. Without waiting for him to speak, she kowtowed repeatedly, "Eldest Master, this servant is guilty. This servant has kept something from you."
"Miss Ming never died at all! That night, this servant saw with her own eyes—she carried a bundle on her back and followed Madam's Nanny Tian out through the side gate!"
Author's Note: We're entering the VIP chapters now!! [Sparkling eyes][Sparkling eyes]