The courtyards of the Xiahou Residence could naturally not compare to the former Yongning Marquis Manor, but the old master treated the sisters well. The courtyard assigned to them was the one their grandmother had lived in when she was young. Though it was not the largest in the residence, it had pavilions, terraces, winding corridors, and a small courtyard—everything one could want—and it was refined and quiet enough.
The sisters lived separately, one in the eastern wing and the other in the western wing, with a cool pavilion in between. Gauze curtains hung from the four corners of the pavilion, and inside sat a tall, slender figure seen from behind, her waist and back held straight, dignified and composed.
This was the original novel’s female lead, Shen Xihe. The famed Shen sisters were both breathtakingly beautiful, each in her own way. Shen Xihe’s looks and temperament resembled the Marchioness most—bright, elegant, gentle, and graceful.
In the original story, it was said that when she was born, birds gathered and sang outside the delivery room. A passing geomancer declared it an omen of “a hundred birds paying homage to the phoenix,” a sign of a phoenix destiny. Thus, the Yongning Marquis named her “Xihe.” Xihe—meaning the sun—was an imposing name, one only the female lead could hold steady.
Even on the night when they were at their most destitute, it was Shen Xihe who calmed herself, led her weak and sickly younger sister to escape, and finally found another path forward within the Xiahou family, exhausting every means to ensure her sister could live a little better. In short, whether inside or outside the book, Shen Wangshu liked her very much.
“Niannian, have you been feeling all right lately? Is there anything still bothering you?” Shen Xihe asked gently, using a fragrant handkerchief to wipe the fine sweat from her sister’s temple. “Come, sit.”
“Elder Sister, I’m already fine,” Shen Wangshu said obediently as she sat down across from Shen Xihe. Catching the faint worry in her sister’s eyes, she already understood what was coming next.
“There’s something I want to discuss with you,” Shen Xihe said after some careful deliberation. “In the coming days… I may have to leave you for a while.”
Her emotions were unsettled, and Shen Wangshu easily heard another voice—her sister’s thoughts.
How should I tell Niannian? That person is going to take me away, but I can’t take Niannian with me…
Leaving her alone at the Xiahou Residence—I really can’t put my mind at ease. But what lies ahead of me will only be more dangerous. One wrong step, and it could mean total ruin.
Rather than having her face these things with me, it’s better for her to stay here for now. With Grandfather’s protection, this place is at least safe.
The ability to hear others’ thoughts was something Shen Wangshu had only recently discovered. She didn’t know whether it was some genetic mutation caused by transmigration or something else entirely, but especially when the other person was emotionally agitated, whatever they were thinking became crystal clear to her.
She had no intention of prying into others’ privacy, yet there were always a few people who were like firecrackers—one spark and they exploded—so, intentionally or not, she ended up learning all sorts of messy information.
Just as Shen Xihe was struggling with how to explain herself, she heard her sister ask through a sob, “Is it just leaving for a while… or are you leaving and never coming back?”
She looked up to see tears already pooling in the young beauty’s eyes. She bit her lip stubbornly to keep them from falling, her voice heavy with a nasal tone as she pressed on, “Where are you going, Elder Sister? Do you not want Niannian anymore?”
Shen Xihe’s nose stung. She turned her head aside in some embarrassment, and when she spoke again, her voice was strained. “How could that be? I just have some matters to take care of. I will come back to take you with me.”
Shen Wangshu remembered this part of the plot well. Not long after the Shen sisters fled to the Xiahou Residence, someone from the Second Prince’s side—the male lead—came to take Shen Xihe away.
The Second Prince, Feng Jiuzhao, had grown up with Shen Xihe since childhood. The two were mutually in love, but various circumstances prevented them from being openly together. Now that the Yongning Marquis Manor had met with disaster, he only had the ability to take Shen Xihe with him. If it were discovered that both Shen sisters were with him, everything would be over.
The charge used to confiscate the Yongning Marquis Manor was the private minting of coins, but anyone with eyes knew the truth—the Shen family had grown too powerful and conspicuous, and the old emperor had merely found a pretext to empty their wealth into the depleted national treasury.
Shen Xihe could not live the rest of her life hiding under an assumed name, enduring humiliation. If she wanted to avenge her family, she needed Feng Jiuzhao’s power as cover to investigate the entire matter. She had to leave.
Before she left, the only one she could not stop worrying about was her younger sister.
No matter how kind her maternal grandfather was, he still had to consider the safety of the entire family. What the Second Prince could not bear, the Xiahou family likewise could not afford. Though they had been there for three months and no one in the household had openly criticized them, this was never a long-term solution.
Although she never showed it, Shen Xihe knew that her aunt, who managed the household, was already somewhat displeased with her grandfather hiding two daughters of a disgraced family.
If one of them left, at least the Xiahou Residence would draw less attention.
So separation was inevitable.
Shen Wangshu understood this logic as well. However, in the original story, not long after Shen Xihe left, a daughter of the Xiahou family was named in an imperial decree and bestowed in marriage to the General Who Guards the State, Chen Ting, who had returned to the capital to report for duty.
Chen Ting came from the Duke of Rong’s household, a family renowned for generations of loyal service. This year, he was twenty-eight, and despite his young age, he had already been granted the rank of first-grade general, with formidable military achievements and a fearsome reputation.
If it were merely a matter of age, it might have been acceptable—but the problem was that the emperor had already bestowed seven marriages upon him. Seven brides. Not one had survived the wedding night.
It was said that because Chen Ting spent all year fighting on the battlefield, the murderous aura clinging to him was too heavy, dooming those newly wed brides. Now, every noble family in the capital feared that the next one named would be their own—yet no one expected the old emperor’s gaze to turn toward the Xiahou family, who also resided in Moyun City.
Madam Xiahou naturally refused to let her own beautiful daughter marry this walking calamity. With a turn of her eyes, she pushed the lonely, helpless cousin in the household forward instead.
Shen Wangshu—a potential source of disaster herself—was sent to replace her daughter and marry that demon of ill fortune. Wasn’t that just perfect?
“Niannian, you may have to endure some grievances while staying at your maternal grandfather’s home. Try not to go out too much and avoid causing trouble for your uncle and aunt. At the latest, within two years, no matter what, I will come back to take you away,” Shen Xihe said, stroking her sister’s little face, her heart aching like it was being cut by a knife.
She had no idea that soon after she left, her sister would be married off in her stead to a man eleven years older—and that within half a year of marriage, she would quietly fade away.
The female lead’s departure was inevitable. Shen Wangshu’s replacement marriage was inevitable as well. The only thing she could influence was what happened after she married into the Duke’s household—she could find a way to change her fate of dying young.
However, she could not let Shen Xihe leave without a burden on her heart.
In the original story, because of Shen Wangshu’s connection, Chen Ting would later become an important pillar supporting the male lead’s ascension to the throne, rising to the rank of marquis and grand minister. There was no reason everyone else should rise to glory while Shen Wangshu alone vanished without a sound.
So now, she needed to make the female lead feel guilty—to remember this pitiful, weak younger sister of hers. Once this debt of sentiment was formed, it would prove very useful in the future.
In truth, Shen Xihe was already heartbroken enough. If her sister had acted as she used to—throwing a small tantrum—Shen Xihe might still have been able to persuade her, and by extension, persuade herself.
But Shen Wangshu neither cried nor made a scene. She simply looked at her with those watery eyes, tears falling like beans as she said, “Niannian will be good. Niannian will wait for Elder Sister to come back.”
At that moment, Shen Xihe found herself utterly unable to speak. The image of those tear-filled eyes would be engraved in her heart forever.
She thought that once she had cleared her family’s name, she would make it up to Niannian properly. Even if Niannian wanted the stars in the sky, she would pluck them down for her.
Hearing this, Shen Wangshu felt thoroughly satisfied.