Zhao Nuan held the child as she walked through the familiar corridors, witnessing the mansion descend into chaos.
Maid servants and female attendants were fleeing in all directions, while the shouts of government soldiers echoed intermittently from near and far.
She slipped into the bushes, concealing herself under the cover of night.
Chunmei hurried along the adjacent stone path and encountered a squad of soldiers midway. She let out a sharp scream to lure them away.
Zhao Nuan crouched low, waiting for the path ahead to clear. Just as she was about to move, she saw the haggard Chunlian emerge from a side path carrying the Shu brocade swaddling clothes, taking over Chunmei’s position.
Without exchanging a word, one moved openly while the other stayed hidden as they made their way toward the rear gate.
The rear gate was slightly ajar and appeared unmanned, but Zhao Nuan remained still.
Chunlian, clutching the swaddling clothes, stumbled forward to push the gate open when four soldiers suddenly entered from outside.
She screamed and turned to run back.
Zhao Nuan bit her lip hard, waiting until Chunlian had drawn the soldiers away before leading her daughter to the rear gate.
She gently pushed the gate open a crack, held her breath for two counts, then peered out.
Seeing the alley outside completely empty, Zhao Nuan glanced back one last time at the marquis’ mansion where she had lived for five years. Gritting her teeth, she stepped through the gate.
The moment she left the mansion, a piercing cry echoed behind her. Not daring to linger, she quickened her pace and disappeared into the darkness with the child.
Torches flickered everywhere outside the mansion, forcing Zhao Nuan to move cautiously.
She gritted her teeth and followed the shadows along the mansion wall, eventually circling around to the southern side gate near the main entrance.
Knowing the front courtyard would be the first target during a property confiscation, she steeled herself and crawled back into the mansion through a dog hole.
The mansion’s security was lax, with servants’ children often running about freely.
So Yan’er took the lead, guiding Zhao Nuan to an abandoned stable in the corner of the front courtyard.
The place appeared to have been thoroughly ransacked, with debris and fodder turned upside down.
Zhao Nuan forced herself to remain calm and scanned the surroundings.
“Yan’er, hide in the tree.” She pointed to a large tree by the wall and instructed her daughter, “If Mother and your younger brother are found, you must not make a sound, understand?”
Yan’er bit her lip and nodded quietly.
“Mother’s good girl.” Zhao Nuan tucked a silver note into her daughter’s clothes and kissed her forehead.
She would repay the marquis’ household’s kindness herself—her daughter need not be involved.
Zhao Nuan curled up in the haystack holding young master Zhou Ningyu. The child seemed to sense the danger, remaining completely silent throughout.
As dawn broke, the mansion fell completely silent.
Zhao Nuan didn’t venture out immediately, instead instructing her daughter to remain hidden. She told Yan’er that if she didn’t return within two hours, the girl should find a way to leave the mansion.
After ensuring her daughter understood, Zhao Nuan carefully moved through the mansion with Zhou Ningyu, heading to the main kitchen to find food.
Located between the front and rear courtyards, the main kitchen yielded half a bowl of untouched porridge which Zhao Nuan fed to Zhou Ningyu.
Finding several steamed buns that had rolled on the ground, she clenched her teeth and headed toward the rear courtyard.
While the front courtyard was merely disordered, the rear courtyard had been practically dug up. The usual pavilions, towers, and exotic flowers now lay in ruins.
It seemed whoever framed the marquis’ household had hidden evidence in the rear courtyard—otherwise the soldiers wouldn’t have gone to such lengths.
To frame the marquis’ household and hide evidence in the rear courtyard… it must have been an insider. A chill ran down Zhao Nuan’s spine as she hurried back.
She had been hiding in the stable with the children for three days like this. The food in the kitchen had turned sour before the noises outside the walls finally ceased completely.
Yan’er climbed down from the tree: “Mother, the soldiers have all withdrawn.”
“Good, then let’s go too.”
Zhao Nuan found a carrying basket in the kitchen and placed the wilted vegetables inside. She then retrieved a few coarse cloth garments from the servants’ quarters and wrapped Zhou Ningyu in them before holding him close.
As for her own and Yan’er’s clothes, they had become dirty and wrinkled over the past couple of days, requiring no deliberate effort to appear disheveled.
On the morning of the fourth day, Zhao Nuan led the two children through a dog hole to escape.
After running a short distance, they encountered a patrol of soldiers.
Normally, seeing patrol soldiers wouldn’t have bothered Zhao Nuan, but now her palms were sweating with tension.
Suddenly, Yan’er spoke up and grabbed one of Zhao Nuan’s hands: “Mother, will you buy me candied hawthorns after we sell the vegetables?”
Zhao Nuan sharply shook off her daughter’s hand and scolded harshly: “All you care about is eating, you wretched girl! If I spend it all on you, how will I buy rice paste to feed your brother?”
“Waaah…”
Yan’er burst into tears. Having had little to eat or drink these past few days, her lips were chapped and dry.
Zhao Nuan shoved her forcefully: “Keep crying and I’ll let the soldiers take you away!”
The patrolling soldiers watched with amusement—this woman had nerve, not only failing to avoid them but even daring to frighten her child right in front of them.
Hearing Yan’er cry, Zhou Ningyu began wailing too, twisting his head as he tried to burrow into Zhao Nuan’s collar.
The soldiers leered, their eyes fixed intently on Zhao Nuan.
With one hand pressing her collar closed, her face flushed red, Zhao Nuan scolded her daughter while quickening her pace: “Wretched girl, just wait until we get home—I’ll deal with you then.”
Seeing her flustered state, the patrol soldiers roared with laughter, calling out, “Why so fast, sister?”
The capital was beginning to stir, with street vendors setting up their stalls and pedestrians gradually increasing.
Zhao Nuan didn’t dare delay, though she had no idea where to go.
She pretended to set up a stall in the West Market for two hours—of course the rotten vegetables didn’t sell—but she mainly wanted to hear news about what had happened to the Marquis Manor.
The more she listened, the more alarmed she became. That night had shaken the capital: not only had the Zhou family’s Wu’an Marquis Manor—founding merit subjects—been raided, but even the Lin family, renowned for their disciples everywhere, hadn’t escaped.
The eldest young mistress’s father had dashed his head against the palace gates until he died, and her mother had used her husband’s blood to write the character for “wronged” on the gates before slitting her own throat.
Fortunately, the Marquis’s elderly lady had freed the servants beforehand. Hundreds of servants from the Marquis Manor, along with nearly a thousand more from estates across the regions, had their indenture contracts returned.
Though some were intercepted, many had left the manor before the soldiers arrived.
“Mother, where are we going?” After listening for a long time, Yan’er finally spoke timidly.
No matter how clever she was, she was still just a child of a few years. Once her tense nerves relaxed, fear washed over her.
Zhao Nuan felt a warmth in her heart and said gently, “Don’t be afraid, Yan’er. Mother will keep you and your brother safe. Let’s return to our hometown.”
“Hometown?”
“Yes, our hometown. There are mountains and rivers, fields and land—so much more to play with than in the capital.”
Zhao Nuan smiled as she described it, but her heart was full of uncertainty. She had long since lost any hometown to return to.
Six years ago, a flood had devastated her homeland, leaving corpses strewn across the fields. Now, where could she possibly find shelter?
Suddenly, the street erupted into commotion. Someone shouted that the Zhou family, the traitors, were being exiled, and everyone rushed to see the spectacle.
Zhao Nuan shuddered, then pulled her daughter along while carrying Zhou Ningyu, following the crowd toward the main street.
The clanking of iron chains echoed as several members of the Marquis’ household, shackled at the feet and bound together by ropes around their wrists, trudged down the street.
Someone yelled “traitors,” and others began hurling objects at them.
Zhao Nuan bit her lip, her eyes reddening. Given how the Marquis’ household had treated their servants, how could they possibly be traitors?
Suddenly, someone tugged at her. Zhao Nuan snapped back to reality.
“You’re crying—what’s your relation to these traitors?”
The man questioning her wore coarse clothing, and his loud voice drew the attention of many onlookers.
Zhao Nuan swallowed hard, her voice hoarse as she replied, “I’m crying for my husband. If it weren’t for these corrupt officials, he wouldn’t have died, leaving me and our two children to suffer alone.”
With that, Zhao Nuan reached into her basket, grabbed a handful of rotten vegetables, and hurled them at the Zhou family procession.