Truly, what a silver tongue you have.
Song Yuhua was left speechless with fury for a long moment. “You are twisting every fact! It was clearly you—!”
Jiang Yuan gave her no chance to speak, cutting her off sharply. “Then dare you swear an oath? If it was you who took my clothes, and you who soaked every quilt—may you age twenty years overnight. May your hair turn white and fall out, your face wrinkle all over, and every tooth in your head drop out. Dare you swear it?”
The wisdom of the older generation, Jiang Yuan thought, proved remarkably useful at times.
Song Yuhua prided herself on maintaining her appearance; she believed she looked little different from an unmarried girl in her prime. More than anything else, she dreaded growing old and ugly. And worse—she had taken the clothes. She had soaked the bedding, every quilt except her own. There was no way she could swear such an oath.
It was a cruel, vicious thing to demand.
Song Yuhua’s breathing came in ragged gasps; her face turned a mottled purple. Some voice deep within her screamed: To hell with weighing consequences. To hell with prudence. I will kill her right now.
“You vile creature—I will kill you!”
She had fury, but she had sorely overestimated her strength. She carried no weapon, and even if she had, she was no match for Jiang Yuan. She lunged forward alone. Jiang Yuan caught her wrist and gave a gentle push. Song Yuhua toppled backward. Had Lu Ze not caught her swiftly, she would have struck the floor hard—likely breaking bones.
Lu Ze was furious. “Jiang Yuan! What on earth are you doing?!”
Jiang Yuan raised both hands, looking utterly innocent. “I didn’t lay a finger on her! She tried to strike me—I was merely defending myself.”
“I have told you again and again,” Lu Ze said, exasperated. “I will persuade my mother to accept you. All you need do is be filial toward her, listen to her, and obey her. Why—why must you repeatedly provoke her like this?”
“Must you repeat the very same words over and over?” Jiang Yuan’s patience snapped. She ignored him entirely and fixed her gaze straight upon Song Yuhua. “You don’t truly wish to drive me away… do you?”
“…” Song Yuhua froze. Whatever answer she gave would trap her.
If she said no—Jiang Yuan would surely reply: Splendid. Then I shall stay forever.
If she said yes—it would be even worse. Jiang Yuan would retort: Precisely because you do not wish me here, you have resorted to every trick to force me out.
Song Yuhua felt as though her chest were packed solid with cement. She could barely breathe, could barely speak. She slumped heavily against Lu Ze, gasping for air in great, ragged gulps.
“Mother! What is wrong?!” Lu Ze had gone pale with fright.
Song Yuhua clutched his arm, forcing the words out with agonising effort. “I… never wish to see… this hateful girl… again. Make her leave. Send her away!”
That final command—Make her leave—she shrieked with every ounce of strength remaining in her body.
Lu Ze guided her gently onto the sofa to sit. Aunt Liu hurried forward with medicine, which she took. Once she had recovered a little, Lu Ze turned to Jiang Yuan, his tone final and unyielding.
“Jiang Yuan… you have reduced my mother to this state. I can no longer keep you here. Pack your things. Leave.”
It was then Jiang Yuan noticed Lu Qinian. He had remained silent all this while. Now his face was dark as storm clouds, his expression stony and forbidding. The temperature around him seemed to plummet several degrees. Standing before him was enough to make one’s blood run cold.
Lu Ze, feeling ignored, spoke up angrily. “I am telling you to leave! Why do you keep staring at my father?!”
Jiang Yuan considered her words carefully, then looked directly at Lu Qinian. “Commander Lu… are you displeased?”
Truth be told, she had earned a fair amount of money these past days. She might not be able to afford a grand residence, but she could certainly rent a modest place. When she had first arrived—reborn into this time—she had known nothing of the city, and had been uncertain whether she could survive at all. But now? She had adapted. She might not become wealthy, but she could certainly support herself. She did not have to remain in this house.
Of course… it would be far better to stay until Song Yuhua’s crimes were fully exposed.
She asked about his mood to judge whether she should stay or go. She knew perfectly well that one cannot fight against superior force—and she knew when to retreat.
Instead of answering, Lu Qinian fixed her with eyes black and cold as ink. He spoke sharply, his voice edged with barely contained fury:
“Were you truly forced into sleeping in my bed?”
He was not known as Commander Lu for nothing. He had cut straight through every word.
Jiang Yuan gave a sheepish, slightly embarrassed smile. “No. Not truly.”
A cold, sardonic smile curled at the corner of Lu Qinian’s mouth. “You are remarkably frank, I see.”
“Your eyes see through everything with such piercing clarity!” Jiang Yuan hastened to flatter him. “You leave me no choice but honesty! I was merely… aggrieved. Song Yuhua has schemed against me time and again. The first time—you saw through her game clearly, did you not? You knew it was her doing, and you chose not to hold it against me. Had you not, I would have been cast out long ago. This time… I refused to be her fool any longer. I seized the opportunity and slept in your bed—so that she too might taste the bitterness of suffering an injustice, with no one to whom she may complain.”
In truth, her first plan had worked well enough. Song Yuhua had acted too hastily, rushing down to demand her expulsion before Lu Qinian had even spoken a word. That flaw might have escaped Lu Ze’s notice—he was too simple-minded—but Lu Qinian had seen through it at a single glance.
She had allowed Lu Ze to believe it was his pleading that had saved her. That way, with precedent established, Lu Qinian would naturally grow suspicious. And Song Yuhua’s motives were always, transparently, to drive her away. Half-truths mixed with facts were the hardest things for anyone to unravel.
Jiang Yuan congratulated herself on how deftly she had flattered him—until she looked up. Lu Qinian’s expression had grown colder still. His gaze rested upon her, sharp and glinting like the edge of a blade.
“Using me. Toying with me. Is it entertaining?”
“…” Jiang Yuan dared not utter a single word in reply.
Fortunately, it seemed he had spoken only to voice his displeasure—and had no intention of pursuing punishment. Having said those words, he turned and walked out of the room.
Lu Qinian had not ordered her to leave. Yet Jiang Yuan knew in her heart: she had offended him deeply, perhaps irrevocably.
She had hoped to rest for a day or two longer. Clearly, that would no longer be possible.
Song Yuhua had suffered a humiliating defeat today; her rage had been so great she had required medicine to calm herself. Knowing her temperament, she would surely rush to confront those three men—the very ones she had sought—and hurl their misdeeds straight into Jiang Yuan’s face. She would expose what she believed to be Jiang Yuan’s shameful secret before both Lu Qinian and Lu Ze, and gloat while doing so.
Jiang Yuan had deliberately goaded Song Yuhua into finding those men because, at first, she had been utterly helpless. She knew no one in the capital. She could only wait until Song Yuhua brought them forward—and then act accordingly.
But things were different now. During her brief stay in the detention centre, she had met Cheng Fangping.
A certain late someone had once told her: if you seek help from others, you must be bold. If they grant your request, you prosper. If they refuse, you lose nothing.
Cheng Fangping had been beside himself with excitement yesterday upon learning that Jiang Yuan’s distant relative was Lu Ze. He had readily agreed to come to dinner at the house this very evening. Even if Song Yuhua cared nothing for Jiang Yuan’s feelings, she would surely show some measure of respect toward Lu Qinian.
Cheng Fangping was, after all, the chief of the local police station. Locating three men was a trivial matter—an errand of no difficulty. And doing Commander Lu such a small favour was something he would gladly seize as an opportunity to repay kindness.
One could scarcely blame Jiang Yuan for being underhanded. When a person is backed to the very edge of ruin, even laws themselves may be bent. Who then could speak of honour?
Besides—Song Yuhua had used Lu Qinian’s authority to launch such vicious, underhanded attacks against her. Lu Qinian being used in turn… he could scarcely complain.
First she must find those three men. Doing so would prevent Song Yuhua from twisting the truth to exonerate herself—and it would also stop her from devising further schemes.
Worried that Cheng Fangping might be away from his office, Jiang Yuan went specially to the post office and placed a telephone call. Cheng Fangping answered in person. One must approach those who hold power with proper courtesy; instead of making her request directly, Jiang Yuan invited him to dinner. To her relief, he accepted without a moment’s hesitation.