The words hit like a thunderclap.
The courtyard fell silent, all eyes fixed on Meng Yimu and Meng Wanqing, shock and disbelief written on every face.
Even the butler was dumbfounded—he had never imagined such a staggering secret hidden within the Meng family.
Meng Yimu’s face drained of color, her body trembling violently. She pointed at Meng Wantang, her voice shaking: “You… you lie! I didn’t! Wanqing is the Meng family’s legitimate daughter—you’re the bastard!”
“Lies?” Meng Wantang raised an eyebrow, voice icy. “Shall I summon the midwife who delivered us to testify? Or would you dare ask the Emperor to verify Wanqing’s birth date and see who truly gave birth to her?”
Meng Yimu was speechless, panic flickering in her eyes. Not a word could she utter.
Meng Wanqing, struck dumb, murmured, “No… impossible… I am the Meng family’s legitimate daughter… I am not a bastard…”
Meng Father and Mother glanced at Meng Yimu’s flustered expression, then at their dazed daughter.
A terrible premonition gripped their hearts.
They looked at Meng Wantang, mouths opening, but no words emerged, only astonishment and confusion etched across their faces.
Meng Wantang, holding Xiao Muyan, showed no mercy, no flicker of emotion.
Meng Father and Mother froze, faces alternating between pale and ashen, hearts tossing in a storm of disbelief. How did she know?
If she knew she was the true eldest daughter, why had she remained silent all these years, allowing them to mistreat her, and Meng Wanqing to take everything from her?
Countless questions clogged their throats. Their eyes at Meng Wantang reflected a tumult of emotions—shock, confusion, and barely concealed panic.
But Meng Wantang had no interest in them.
Seated back at the table, holding Xiao Muyan, she picked up her chopsticks and slowly lifted a crystal shrimp dumpling to her mouth, as if the commotion and their turmoil meant nothing to her.
“You… do you even respect us, your elders?”
Meng Mother trembled with rage, pointing at Meng Wantang, voice quivering. They were, after all, her biological parents. Even if wronged in the past, she should not be so cold, so disdainful!
Meng Wantang glanced at her, eyes devoid of warmth. “Elders? When you threw me to Meng Yimu, letting her beat and torment me, when you watched Meng Wanqing humiliate me and turned a blind eye—did you think of yourselves as my elders then?”
Her words were soft but precise, piercing Meng Father and Mother like needles, leaving their faces pale and speechless.
Beside her, Xiao Muyan clutched her neck tightly, brow furrowed.
Though so young, he understood the conversation, the years of suffering his mother had endured.
He reached out a small hand, gently patting her back, his voice earnest and tiny: “Mama, Muyan will always protect you.”
Meng Wantang’s heart warmed.
She kissed his forehead, a trace of tenderness finally surfacing in her eyes.
At that moment, the butler rushed in, panic written across his pale face.
“Miss Wantang! Something’s wrong! The palace sent people! They… they’re confiscating property! Everyone must stay in the courtyard, no one is to move!”
“Confiscation?” Meng Wanqing leapt up, her face draining of color, panic and disbelief flooding her eyes.
“Impossible! How could they confiscate the property! I’m the best friend of the Crown Princess! She would have warned me!”
She clutched her hair, muttering frantically, lost in delusion.
Outside, the rhythmic steps of the Imperial Guards approached. A retinue of palace officials, flanked by troops, swept into the courtyard, leaving no way out.
Moments later, two guards dragged a bloodied figure through the main gate. It was Xiao Jingyuan.
He was covered in deep red blood, pale as paper, eyes closed, seemingly at death’s door.
“Father!” Xiao Muyan’s eyes reddened. He struggled to climb from Meng Wantang’s arms.
She held him close, patting his back, her voice firm yet gentle: “Muyan, be good. Father is hurt, but he will be fine. Let’s wait, okay?”
Xiao Muyan looked into her determined eyes, nodded, clutching her clothing tightly, no longer crying.
The Meng family’s panic deepened.
Meng Father and Mother instinctively retreated, fear etched across their faces.
Meng Wanqing collapsed in despair, trembling, muttering over and over, “It’s over… everything is over.”
The palace official unrolled a bright yellow imperial decree, voice sharp:
“By the mandate of Heaven, the Emperor decrees: Prince Jing, Xiao Jingyuan, has colluded with foreign enemies, plotting rebellion. Evidence confirmed. His military authority is revoked, his title abolished. The Prince’s household shall be confiscated, and the entire family exiled three thousand miles to the frozen northern territories. By imperial order!”
As the decree finished, Meng Wanqing almost fainted, screaming in despair: “No… I refuse exile! I am the Meng family’s legitimate daughter! I am the Prince’s wife! You cannot do this!”
The official ignored her, turning to Meng Father and Mother, tone icy: “Coincidentally, the Meng family colluded with Prince Jing in treason. His property is being seized. The Imperial Guards are already executing the confiscation. Best surrender peacefully.”
“What?!” Meng Father and Mother went pale, knees buckling, collapsing heavily to the ground.
The old matriarch of the Meng family, alarmed by the chaos, arrived, clutching her chest as she coughed violently, face turning blue and purple. “Such misfortune… truly misfortune…”
The four Meng brothers were similarly stunned, collapsed, unable to move.
They had come to confront Meng Wantang, yet instead of retribution, the entire family was dragged into disgrace, facing confiscation.
The Imperial Guards moved to seize the property, overturning cabinets and boxes, the sounds echoing through the courtyard.
Meng Wantang, holding Xiao Muyan, watched coldly.
Her eyes betrayed no ripple of emotion. She had emptied the Prince’s residence; what they confiscated were mere trinkets.
She glanced down at the seemingly lifeless Xiao Jingyuan, a complex flicker in her eyes.
This man was Xiao Muyan’s father, and the only one who had ever shown her a moment of warmth.
Sighing softly, she brought Xiao Muyan closer and knelt beside Xiao Jingyuan, checking his pulse and breath.
Despite the bloodied appearance, he was feigning injury to avoid trouble.
Meng Wantang’s eyes narrowed in understanding, but her expression remained calm. She instructed the butler beside her:
“Bring two sets of rough cloth garments. Have the Prince change.”