Pei Xiaoyun's return to the capital was still some time away.
He could not rest easy about going back until he had rounded up the several Kongchan Sect leaders who were still at large in Jiangnan.
When he left in the morning to attend to business, he had ordered his men to bring Ming Ying to his private residence in Hangzhou.
Returning at night, he found the private residence empty.
"Master, the young lady refused to come. You said we must consider her health, so we dared not use force."
Upon hearing this, Pei Xiaoyun's brow darkened. He turned and left, ordering a carriage to be prepared for the Lin residence.
He had considered her frail health and even instructed his subordinates to show some restraint.
He had given her too much face. What right did she have to refuse him?
After taking medicine, Ming Ying's fever had subsided, and she felt somewhat better.
She asked the servants attending her about the Lin family's situation, but they were all Pei Xiaoyun's people. As if under orders, each remained tight-lipped, only urging her: "Miss, please come with us. This Lin residence is a house of crime, inauspicious."
Ming Ying turned over in bed, a bitter taste spreading to her throat.
Just yesterday it had been filled with guests, the air ringing with gongs and drums. How could it be inauspicious? It was all thanks to Pei Xiaoyun. If not for his appearance, she could have started a new life.
Overnight, everything had changed from heaven to earth.
From someone who could hold her head high, she was to become his slave, his maid again.
The maidservants continued their earnest persuasion, talking about "deep affection and loyalty," "letting bygones be bygones," and "wealth and honor."
Hearing these especially ironic words, she turned her head away in silence. These few light, flippant words, in her eyes, were already as worthless as weeds.
Pei Xiaoyun arrived at the Lin residence, strode into the room, and saw Ming Ying lying flat on the wedding bed, her fingers constantly caressing a sachet.
She wore only a thin, pale-white garment, her jade-like body reclining, her frame as delicate as carved moonlight. The bright red mandarin duck embroidered bedding beneath her was particularly glaring.
Seeing this scene, an inexplicable, restless anger ignited within him.
Although it was he who had shared intimacy with her on this very bed last night, the thought that this was her wedding chamber with Lin Xian stirred a fierce sense of possession.
The sachet in her hand—he had seen a similar one on Lin Xian yesterday. The two red and blue mandarin ducks on the sachet, together, formed a pair, didn't they?
He couldn't help but think of the past, when she would joyfully sit under the corridor, brewing tea, waiting for his return, weaving beautiful knots for him. How many sachets and pouches had she made for him?
Thinking of those skillful hands diligently embroidering and sewing for another man, his jaw tightened. Without another word, he reached out, snatched the sachet from her hand, and threw it into the charcoal brazier before the bed.
Ming Ying sat up abruptly, a gasp escaping her lips. She watched helplessly as the flames licked the threads and fabric, devouring the mandarin ducks, sharp pains shooting through her heart.
Pei Xiaoyun looked at her ashen, regretful face and sneered, "Go pick it up."
Ming Ying did not want to speak to him. She glared at him angrily for a moment, then tried to pull the quilt over herself and turn away.
Her stubborn resistance, yielding to neither softness nor hardness, greatly displeased Pei Xiaoyun. His patience at its limit, he flung aside the obstructive bright red wedding quilt, seized her wrist, and pinned it against the pillow.
"I rescued you from Mianyuelou, kept you by my side for three years, yet you repaid kindness with ingratitude, fled behind my back, and entangled yourself with Lin Xian. That I haven't killed you is already immense mercy. If you obediently admit your mistake, I might reluctantly treat you as before."
Ming Ying's wrist ached from his grip as she stared directly at him. "You saved me once, and I served you like an ox or horse for three years. I've long since repaid you. I owe you nothing and have no wrongs to confess."
Her only mistake was falling in love with him.
Her only regret was those three years of foolish devotion, not leaving sooner.
"Can it ever be repaid?" Pei Xiaoyun pressed closer, pinning her down, tilting her chin up. His broad frame left her no room to move. "In life, you are mine; in death, you are my ghost. While I live, you will serve by my side. When I die, I will take you with me. You said those words yourself, didn't you?"
That winter in Yangzhou, snow filled the sky.
At fourteen, clad in thin clothing, her eyes clear and pure, she knelt at his feet, kowtowing, vowing to repay his great kindness and follow him forever.
He had scoffed then. Everyone avoided him, yet this ignorant, lowly girl dared speak such words to him.
He used her, and she truly threw herself into fire and water for him—delivering messages, blocking arrows, disregarding her own life. Later, he believed her. He even strove to secure her status, considered a path for her survival, gave her a place to belong.
But he never imagined she would leave, that she would say she no longer wished to be with him.
He would make her understand: once spoken, her words must be honored.
Mention of the past made Ming Ying feel as if a lifetime had passed, a faint ache and bitterness rising in her heart.
What had shattered three years ago could never be pieced back together; the past was merely self-deception.
"Get up. Come back to the residence with me. This is no place for you." Pei Xiaoyun caught a flicker of surprise on her face, which he took for regret, for softening. He moderated his tone, attempting to reason with her.
"I'm not going anywhere. This is my home."
"Your home?" Pei Xiaoyun sneered.
He had misread her—that was stubbornness, an unyielding nature.
Ming Ying had no strength to argue further. She only asked, "What have you done with Lin Xian?"
Pei Xiaoyun was blunt. "I told you, the Lin family head colluded with the Kongchan Sect. Every member of the Lin family is implicated."
"Then arrest me too. I am also a Lin." Ming Ying's heart turned to ashes; she offered her neck for the blade.
Pei Xiaoyun's eyes frosted over. Roughly grabbing her ankle, he effortlessly lifted her by the waist. "You are not a Lin. You are merely my servant. Killing you would require but a word from me, but for now, I do not wish you dead. You have yet to pay for what you've done."
"Let me go! I won't go with you! Let me go!"
Ming Ying flailed against him, but the man's body was like a vast, fine net enveloping her completely. Her struggles were as futile as a mayfly trying to shake a tree.
Pei Xiaoyun gripped her waist, his dark eyes glinting with a cold light. "My patience has its limits."
The private residence in Hangzhou was luxurious and elegant. Though it could not compare to the grandeur of the Guogongfu in the capital, it still boasted jade steps and vermilion halls.
"Get down."
Pei Xiaoyun alighted first and urged her several times. Seeing Ming Ying leaning against the carriage wall, unmoving and radiating resistance, his patience wore thin. He reached in, hauled her out, and seized her wrist.
Ming Ying moved like a marionette, forced to follow his steps.
Passing through vermilion gates and winding corridors, they were met by a beautifully dressed young woman who gracefully bowed to Pei Xiaoyun. "My lord, you have returned. This humble one has been awaiting you for some time."
Pei Xiaoyun was momentarily taken aback, then seemed to understand something and replied indifferently, "No need to wait here. You may leave."
The woman in purple, with eyes full of affection and a captivating appearance, gracefully withdrew after receiving his instruction.
Ming Ying naturally had no mind to notice Pei Xiaoyun's tone. Watching the retreating figure of the woman in purple, she assumed she was one of his beautiful concubines and thought little more of it.
Yet, a sense of injustice grew in her heart. Since he already had a house full of wives and concubines, with no shortage of women or maidservants around him, why was he unwilling to let her go?
After forcibly settling Ming Ying, Pei Xiaoyun, fearing she might act out, assigned five or six maidservants to watch over her, forbidding her from leaving the courtyard even a single step.
Before returning to the capital, he wanted her to stay here obediently, reflect on her mistakes, and then sincerely come to him, kowtowing and admitting her faults, promising she would never dare again.
As the night wind arrived, Pei Xiaoyun was handling official duties in his study.
A woman dressed in black, with sharp eyes and brows, entered and clasped her hands in salute. "Master, while you were away during the day, the Governor of Zhejiang sent a woman over."
Pei Xiaoyun, holding a brush between his slender fingers, wrote a line of bold, flowing characters on paper and slightly lifted his eyelids. "I see."
"Master, this woman's origins are unclear. She must be a spy. Shall I have her killed?" The sword at the black-clad woman's side seemed eager to be drawn.
"Xing Wei," Pei Xiaoyun neither affirmed nor denied, "Do you truly remember nothing?"
Six months ago, he had rescued her during a battle with the Wuhuan Kingdom. Though she had lost all her memories, her martial skills were exceptional, so he kept her by his side as a shadow guard. Unexpectedly, she had proven to be a loyal and capable blade.
Xing Wei seemed to struggle with recollection, her expression slightly pained and confused, but she ultimately shook her head. "This subordinate only knows that I hold an irreconcilable hatred for the Wuhuan people. It was you, Master, who saved me, and I vow to serve you with my life."
"I know you are loyal, but sometimes excessive loyalty leads to acting on one's own initiative." Pei Xiaoyun was quite satisfied with her answer, then folded the letter in his hand and handed it to her.
"Do not touch that woman for now."
She was a spy sent by Shen Chun, the Governor of Zhejiang. If he killed her, Shen Chun would simply send another. Rather than dealing with hidden agents, it was easier to handle those in plain sight.
"Deliver this birthday congratulatory memorial to the Governor's Mansion." Pei Xiaoyun's profile was shadowed and indistinct in the orange glow of the candlelight. "He sent me a concubine; it is only proper that I return the favor and offer my congratulations."
"Yes." Xing Wei took the item, accepted the order, and withdrew.
The night wind beat against the window lattice, allowing a few threads of chill to slip inside.
Ming Ying looked at the dishes the maidservants had brought up but had no appetite whatsoever.
Pei Xiaoyun had said he would not kill her for now, which was likely true. At the moment, she was more concerned about Lin Xian's situation.
He was a madman, capable of anything.
But these surroundings were like impenetrable walls; not even a fly could escape. Pei Xiaoyun clearly intended to imprison her here, and she could not gather even a shred of news from the outside world.
"Miss, please eat something. Don't ruin your health." This was a newly arrived maidservant, her hair styled in a high bun. She served the dishes with practiced ease, clearly experienced in her duties.
Ming Ying understood the difficulties of being a maidservant and did not wish to make things hard for them. She merely glanced faintly and said, "I'll eat later."
"Miss, if the Eldest Master comes later, he will surely blame us."
Hearing her refer to Pei Xiaoyun as "Eldest Master," Ming Ying suddenly looked up. "Are you from the Guogongfu?"
"This servant is Yue Chan. I originally served at the Guogongfu but was later assigned by the Eldest Master to the private residence in Hangzhou."
Pei Xiaoyun wielded immense power and maintained private residences wherever he traveled on official business. However, the court was not without those like Shen Chun who opposed him and sought to plant spies around him. Thus, he stationed many of his own trusted people to guard these private residences.
A shadow fell over Ming Ying's eyes, as if something had stirred in her mind. Unbearable memories flowed back into her heart like a stream. "Yue Chan, have you ever seen the young lady of the Guogongfu?"
After all, she was flesh of her flesh.
If Pei Xiaoyun were present, she would never have asked. But now, knowing that Yue Chan had once served in the Guogongfu, she couldn't help but ask.
Yue Chan knew some hidden truths, aware that Ming Ying was the young lady's birth mother. She nodded. "I've seen her a few times. Don't worry, miss, the young lady is doing well."
"And the Madam of the Guogongfu… does she treat her well too?" Ming Ying couldn't resist asking.
Pei Xiaoyun hated her so much. Knowing she was still alive, would he take his anger out on the child? If even he didn't care for her, how could his wife possibly…
"Doing well"—did it mean like how she had been treated before, with a few mouthfuls of cold rice, thin clothes to wear, and no doctor to see her when she fell ill, as long as she still had a breath left in her?
Yue Chan replied, "Miss, the Eldest Master has not yet taken a wife. In his rare moments of leisure, he personally teaches the young lady to read."
Not yet married?
Ming Ying's fingers, resting on her knees, twitched slightly.
She had also heard about Prince Yi's rebellion and his entire family being imprisoned. Perhaps Pei Xiaoyun had never married Prince Yi's daughter. But three years had passed—surely he should have married some other noblewoman from a prominent family. How could he still be unmarried?
A moment later, she stopped dwelling on it.
Whatever he did had nothing to do with her. With his status, even if he hadn't taken a wife, he would lack no beautiful companions. As long as she heard that he treated the child well, she felt somewhat reassured.
And so, she idled away her days in boredom, gazing through the window at a small patch of sky, as if she had returned to the days when she was pregnant in the Guogongfu.
The red faded, the green diminished, the water flowed, and the flowers withered—gradually decaying.
At night, hearing a low, heavy footstep, she sat unmoved.
Pei Xiaoyun, busy all day, stood at the doorway. The room was shrouded in darkness—no bright candlelight, no boiling clear tea in the stove, and no sign of her smilingly approaching to help him change his clothes.
Ming Ying sat by the window, not even glancing at him, her head bowed as she stared blankly at the tassels on her clothes.
Pei Xiaoyun's lips tightened, and a wave of irritation surged within him.
He had provided her with good food and drink these past few days so she could reflect on her mistakes and return to being Mian'er—not to serve a demanding ancestor who gave him the cold shoulder.
It seemed she still didn't recognize her errors and showed no remorse.
His brow furrowed, but he restrained himself, spreading his arms and waiting for her to approach. "Mian'er, come help me change."
Ming Ying acted as if she hadn't heard, as if he weren't even there.
Pei Xiaoyun's eyes darkened, almost black, gleaming with a cold light as he walked toward her. His broad chest and shoulders blocked the last faint ray of light from the window. "Are you deaf? Speak."
Ming Ying finally looked up at him, a flicker of defiance in her round eyes. "My name isn't Mian'er. Who are you talking to?"
She had never liked that name. In the past, she had endured it, but once something wore away her patience, she found the name repulsive.
He had said her nature was soft and pliable, easy for him to bully, which was why he gave her that name. Whether in private or in public, he always called her that.
A fire burned in Pei Xiaoyun's chest, gradually spreading through his organs and straight to his heart.
By denying this name, she was denying all her past with him, trying to draw a clear line between them so she could start anew with Lin Xian, clean and untainted.
But could she truly be clean?
He looked at her as if appraising a delectable object, his tone cold and mocking. "How many times have you served me already? Does Lin Xian not mind that you're a withered flower, a fallen willow? Does he not mind that you danced for men at Baili Qing, using your looks to please others?"
Finally, a flicker of light sparked in Ming Ying's eyes, her hands trembling.
Her past could not be changed.
But for these three years, she had been living an upright life.
She had supported herself by doing what she loved, yet he accused her of using her looks to serve others. In his heart, she would always be lowly, forever trampled into the dust, unworthy of standing tall.
"Filthy."
The two words she spat out coldly completely enraged Pei Xiaoyun.
He pinned her down on the small couch, teacups shattering one after another, and bit hard into her lips, reopening the freshly healed wound until the thick, metallic scent of blood filled the air like a potent drug, driving him to tireless demands.
He did not retreat, only advanced recklessly, as if plucking the thorns from her body one by one, grinding down her spirit, forcing her back into the role of a beautiful plaything to be plucked at will.
This bout of passion felt like a torture session. Ming Ying felt as though her entire skeleton had been dismantled and reassembled, over and over again—death would have been a mercy compared to this.
…
By morning, the man beside her had long since left.
Ming Ying stared at the indentation on the outer side of the bed, her heart like cold ashes. With the slightest movement, a bone-deep pain shot through her body.
Yue Chan was ordered to bring her something. "Miss, this is what the Eldest Master instructed me to deliver. He said it's for you to see."
Ming Ying extended a hand covered in lingering red marks and took the document. As she opened it, tears as large as beans soaked the pillowcase.
It was the revised slave registry document he had altered for her, changing her name to Mian'er.
True to his word, he had personally cast her back into the abyss, adding layer upon layer of shameful marks to ensure she could never rise again.
After reading the document, her fever flared up once more. She said nothing, her eyes vacant and lifeless.
Supported by Yue Chan, she rose to wash and dress, sitting before the mirror like a puppet, allowing herself to be manipulated. She took a few sips of porridge, only to vomit it all back up violently.
Yue Chan was deeply frightened by her condition. With Pei Xiaoyun not in the residence, she had no choice but to summon He Lianqing.
Ming Ying sat dazed on the couch when she heard Yue Chan say, "Miss, Physician He is here to examine you."
Author's Note: [Waving hands] [Waving hands] [Waving hands] [Waving hands] Fight, you can each slap the other.