Lin Yao hurried toward her mother’s courtyard, the pieces of the story falling into place through Xia Xiang’s tearful sobs as they ran.
Her mother had been subjected to thirty strokes of the heavy board for no reason, and Madame Chen had forbidden anyone from calling a doctor.
Lin Yao’s mind flashed back to her previous life. It had been exactly the same. Back then, she had been desperate, crawling through a dog hole in the wall to find a physician. But by the time help arrived, it was too late—though her mother’s life was saved, her legs were ruined forever.
In that timeline, her mother’s life had become no better than a beast’s. Lin Yao couldn’t bear to remember the misery her mother endured after she was married off to the Gu family. She had pushed Gu Yulan to succeed, hoping his official rank would give her the status to protect her mother from the Lins’ contempt. But her mother hadn’t survived the year. Xia Xiang had been driven away, and her mother, left without even a bowl of rice, had starved to death.
Later, Lin Yao had orchestrated the downfall of the Lin household and reduced Madame Chen to a beggar. Her revenge was complete, but her mother could never be brought back.
The stench of blood and decay hit her the moment she pushed open the door.
Her mother, Concubine Zhao, lay on the bed under a thin quilt. Seeing her daughter, a spark of joy flickered in her eyes, and a faint smile touched her deathly pale face. “Yao’er… you’re back. Mother overslept… I didn’t come to meet you…”
Lin Yao pulled back the quilt. Her breath hitched. Her mother’s legs were a mangled mess of blood and torn flesh.
Her eyes turned crimson with rage.
“It’s nothing, child,” Zhao whispered. “Just a small injury. Oh, don’t cry…”
“Mother, I’m going to get a doctor.”
Lin Yao marched to the front hall. Her father, Duke Lin, was still chatting with Lin Siwan while Madame Chen sat beside them, acting every bit the legitimate mistress of the house.
Lin Yao walked straight up to Madame Chen, her voice cold and deliberate. “Call a doctor for my mother.”
Madame Chen frowned, lying through her teeth without blinking. “Yao, don’t make a scene. A doctor has already seen to your mother’s legs.”
“What doctor?” Lin Yao shouted. “My mother’s wounds haven’t been touched!”
“Is that any way to speak to your elder?” Duke Lin barked, his brow furrowed in annoyance. He couldn’t care less if Concubine Zhao lived or died; he only cared about Lin Yao’s lack of etiquette. “Don’t think just because you entered the Prince’s manor that you can act out of turn.”
It was Lin Siwan who intervened. She turned to Nanny Rong. “Go into the city and find a physician immediately. Hurry!”
Nanny Rong took the order and rushed out.
Lin Yao felt a surge of violent rage. She glared at her father and Madame Chen with bloodshot eyes. “If anything happens to my mother, I will make both of you go to the grave with her!”
“You little—!” Duke Lin’s face flushed with anger, ready to scold her again.
“Father,” Lin Siwan cut him off firmly. “Yao’er is simply worried about her mother. Let it be.”
The Duke finally shut his mouth. Siwan took Lin Yao’s hand. “Don’t worry. The physician is coming. Everything will be fine.”
Lin Yao waited in a state of agonizing suspense, terrified that history was repeating itself. Finally, the doctor arrived. After checking the pulse and inspecting the wounds, Lin Yao blurted out, “Doctor, how is she?”
“The injury reached the bone, but we caught it just in time,” the doctor said. “Some of the flesh has started to rot; I’ll need to scrape it away.”
Lin Yao exhaled, nearly collapsing with relief. Her legs would be saved.
But the process was grueling. Her mother had always been terrified of pain. As the doctor scraped the necrotic flesh, Lin Yao held her mother tightly. Hearing her mother’s piercing screams, Lin Yao felt as though her own heart was being shredded. In her mind, she was carving the skin off the people who had done this a thousand times over.
By the time the wounds were dressed, her mother had fainted from the pain. Lin Yao didn’t move from her side all night. Lin Siwan sighed and left Nanny Rong behind to help before heading back to her own quarters.
The next morning, Concubine Zhao woke up looking much better.
“Mother, why did they do this to you?” Lin Yao asked.
In her past life, her mother had been beaten for fighting to keep Lin Yao’s chance to enter the Prince’s manor. But in this life, Lin Shu had given up the spot voluntarily. Her mother hadn’t crossed her father, so why the beating?
Zhao’s lips trembled, appearing ashamed. Under Lin Yao’s persistent gaze, she finally spoke. “They said… they said I was having an affair with a servant. Yao’er, I didn’t! They framed me!”
She explained that a new servant in charge of purchasing had begun harassing her. He had tried to lay hands on her several times, but Zhao—the daughter of a military family who knew a bit of martial arts—had fended him off. Eventually, the man sneaked into her room at night, trying to take her by force. Zhao had beaten him half to death.
She thought that was the end of it. But yesterday, Madame Chen had her dragged away. In front of Duke Lin, the servant claimed Zhao had seduced him. Other servants, bribed or coerced, testified that Zhao was “indecent” and had been pursuing the man.
Duke Lin, in a fit of rage, had ordered her to be beaten to death. Madame Chen had played the “merciful” role, pleading for her life until the sentence was reduced to thirty strokes.
Labeled a “loose woman” and discarded in her room, Zhao had nearly given up on life. Only the thought of Lin Yao had kept her from ending it. She couldn’t die before seeing her daughter find happiness.
Lin Yao wiped her mother’s tears away. “Mother, leave this to me. I will get you justice.”
“Yao’er, no,” Zhao grabbed her arm. “Just let it go. Don’t get yourself in trouble.” She knew the Duke believed everything Madame Chen said.
“Mother, the Prince dotes on me now. He is my backing,” Lin Yao said with a confident smile. “I am no longer the Lin Yao that anyone can just slaughter.”
Zhao was stunned. “The Prince dotes on you?”
“Yes. He’s wonderful to me. We have lunch together, and he even eats less just to make sure I’m full.” (In reality, Prince Yu simply had a small appetite). “He even gave me these prayer beads to keep me safe.” (In reality, she had shamelessly begged for them).
Through the art of “creative storytelling,” she made it sound as if the Prince were head-over-heels for her. It was a classic case of the fox borrowing the tiger’s majesty.
Zhao’s eyes welled up with tears of relief. “Good… good. My daughter is finally rising in the world. You won’t have to suffer anymore.”
“Rest now, Mother. I’m going to go collect what is owed to us.” With that, Lin Yao turned and left the room.