Lu Feiyue stepped forward, anxious: “Sir, are you sure lending her paper and brush will work? She’s just a wonton seller; she probably doesn’t even know how to hold a brush!”
“Madam, shall I write it for you? My handwriting isn’t perfect, but it’s legible,” offered a nearby scholar.
“No need! I can do it myself,” Wen Yingying insisted.
Ma Tianxiang’s mother sneered, “You? Write? This young man might need extra sheets just to let her practice.”
Yu Hua watched from the corner with Dujuan and Huamei. Dujuan whispered, “Miss, can’t we help her? That Ma Tianxiang is so despicable!”
“No need. If she dares to say it, she’ll follow through. By the way, does the Da’an dynasty even allow a woman to divorce?”
“Women divorcing men? Never heard of it. It’s always men divorcing wives,” Huamei replied, worried.
“Still, Wonton Beauty is admirable. Take care of her later,” Yu Hua thought.
Ignoring Ma Tianxiang’s mother, Wen Yingying began writing. The onlookers whispered among themselves:
“A woman who can read and write is rare. Can a simple wonton seller really draft a divorce document?”
“Who knows? Even if she writes it, the Ma family won’t let it go easily.”
Soon, Wen Yingying completed the divorce document. Her characters were elegant, fluid, and graceful—each stroke airy and structured, full of subtle strength and feminine refinement. Everyone who saw it couldn’t help but marvel. In a time when few women could write, her calligraphy was extraordinary.
Ma Tianxiang finally regained his composure. “Wen Yingying, you viper! How dare you treat me like this?”
“If it were me, I’d make you suffer worse,” Yu Hua thought.
“Who’s speaking?” Ma Tianxiang shouted at the crowd.
“Stop deflecting. Sign and seal it—this is over between us,” Wen Yingying said coldly.
“You think you can end it so easily? I’ve ruined your life, destroyed your future! You can’t escape me!”
“You ruined yourself. I gave everything to help you, and this is how you repay me? Do you deserve the title of scholar?” she retorted.
“My son is a scholar. Are you afraid he’ll abandon you if he succeeds? You’re the cruelest of women,” Ma Tianxiang’s mother cried.
“As they say, the righteous often become villains, while the heartless are scholars,” Yu Hua mused.
Other scholars, though unsure who spoke, felt conflicted. A few stepped forward:
“Everyone, Ma Tianxiang’s behavior is shameful, but don’t generalize it to all scholars. Witness this. Later, we’ll report to the magistrate and revoke his scholar status. He will no longer be connected to you.”
“Yes, one bad apple doesn’t spoil the whole basket. We cannot tolerate this.”
They led Ma Tianxiang toward the government office to formalize the divorce. Wen Yingying declared, “From this moment, I sever all ties with your family.”
An elderly woman was the first to raise her arm in support, followed by the crowd. Even the other scholars assisted in escorting him.
Dujuan asked Yu Hua, “Do you think Wonton Beauty will succeed?”
“It’s difficult. The dynasty favors men; female divorce is unprecedented. We’ll see what the authorities do,” Yu Hua replied.
Later, as Yu Hua and her maids returned home via a narrow alley, an arrow suddenly flew toward her chest.
“Miss! Watch out!” Huamei shouted.
Dujuan reacted instantly, pushing Yu Hua aside, causing herself to hit the wall. Huamei also shielded Yu Hua. Both girls trembled—they weren’t trained in martial arts and this was their first encounter with an ambush.
A black-clad figure sneered, “You will die today. We serve the fallen King Jing. If he hadn’t been overthrown, you wouldn’t be here!”
Yu Hua froze. “What does this have to do with me? I’m just a mascot on the playground… I haven’t done anything!”
The assailants tried to verbalize her thoughts but failed. Frustrated, one yelled, “Regardless, you die today!”
“Every injustice has its source. The Emperor captured your King Jing. Go trouble the Emperor instead!” Huamei said, swallowing hard.
Without another word, the attackers swung their swords at Yu Hua.
Huamei stood firm. “If you want to harm our Miss, step over our bodies first.”
Dujuan joined, “Miss, we’ll hold them off. You run to the street—then you’ll be safe.”
“None of you will escape today,” one of the attackers shouted, thrusting toward Dujuan.
“System, is she protected?” Yu Hua thought.
“Yes, Host. Nothing from outside can harm you.”
Yu Hua yanked Dujuan aside just as the sword stopped three feet in front of her.
The alley had become a tense standoff—a deadly trap in the shadows of the city.