Lunch was set in the flower hall of the rear courtyard.
The cooks of the Dong’e residence were mediocre at best. Eight dishes—three meat and five vegetable—were laid out, but the presentation was far from refined. Compared to the meals at the Ninth Prince’s residence, it was lacking by more than one level.
Yin Jiu wrinkled his nose slightly at the dishes in front of him but said nothing. No matter how picky he was, he couldn’t put on the airs of a prince in this setting—though he very much wanted to.
The conversation at the table revolved around two topics: first, Lord Dong’e subtly probing for information about court affairs, and second, Concubine Su leading Ning Xin in constantly offering wine and serving food to Yin Jiu with excessive attentiveness.
Ning Nuannuan noticed a detail.
When Ning Xin placed food into Yin Jiu’s bowl, her fingers deliberately brushed past the edge of his sleeve. Her smiling face leaned in close, her eyes shimmering.
This wasn’t courtesy—it was seduction.
Interesting.
In the original host’s memories, Ning Xin had always been dissatisfied with this marriage. Not because Ning Nuan had married well—but because she herself had not. Ning Xin believed that with her looks and abilities, she should have been the one to marry into a prince’s household.
Ning Nuannuan set her chopsticks down and glanced at Ning Xin.
Ning Xin was smiling as she spoke to Yin Jiu, “The Ninth Prince must be very busy outside, right? If brother-in-law has time, although our garden is small, there are still a few scenic spots worth strolling through.”
Brother-in-law.
She used “brother-in-law,” not “Ninth Prince.” The term wasn’t inappropriate among relatives, but paired with her expression and posture, it carried a different meaning.
Surrounded by his young and pretty sister-in-law, Yin Jiu’s vanity was lightly tickled. He lifted his wine cup, about to say something polite, when the corner of his eye caught Ning Nuannuan’s right hand resting on the table.
That hand was gripping a small blue-and-white porcelain dish.
A crack had already formed along the rim under the pressure of her thumb.
Yin Jiu’s wine cup froze midair, his arm stiffening.
He set the cup down, coughed, and subtly shifted closer to Ning Nuannuan.
“You’re too kind, Third Sister,” his tone suddenly turned formal and businesslike. “I am usually occupied with many affairs, so I won’t trouble you.”
Ning Xin’s smile faltered.
Ning Nuannuan released the dish. A crack remained on it, but it hadn’t shattered.
Lunch ended in a subtle, tense atmosphere.
After the meal, Lord Dong’e invited Yin Jiu to the study for tea—an obvious attempt for a private conversation between father-in-law and son-in-law. Yin Jiu wasn’t particularly willing, but the formalities had to be observed.
Ning Nuannuan didn’t follow. She sat in the flower hall for a while, then got up and walked into the courtyard.
The rear courtyard wasn’t large. An old jujube tree had already lost most of its leaves, and a few sparrows hopped along its branches.
She needed to move her body. This body’s muscle recovery was too slow—the exhaustion from the past two days hadn’t fully subsided. She found an open space in the corner of the courtyard and began basic stretches.
Leg presses, lunges, waist rotations. The movements weren’t large, but each joint emitted faint cracking sounds.
“Second Sister really is the same as before—always waving her arms and moving her legs.”
Ning Xin’s voice came from behind.
Ning Nuannuan didn’t turn around.
Ning Xin stepped to her front-left, with Ning Wan following behind. The two stood on either side, blocking her space.
“Second Sister, there’s something I’ve been wanting to ask,” Ning Xin tilted her head, curiosity glinting in her eyes. “You’ve been married into the Ninth Prince’s residence for two days now. Has the Ninth Prince been good to you? I’ve heard there’s a Lady Wanyan by his side—very beautiful and gentle. Second Sister should make sure to hold onto his heart, or someone might take it away.”
Ning Wan chimed in, “Exactly! Back at home, Second Sister couldn’t play the qin, didn’t know chess, calligraphy, or painting, and wasn’t skilled in needlework either. What can you use to compete in a prince’s residence? Lady Wanyan comes from a prestigious family.”
The two spoke in turns, their meaning clear: you’re not worthy.
Ning Nuannuan finished her final set of lunges and straightened up.
“You two are especially talkative today.”
Ning Xin smiled. “Just sisters sharing private thoughts—what’s wrong with that?”
“Private thoughts?” Ning Nuannuan turned to face them.
Ning Xin noticed something different about Ning Nuannuan’s stance. Her feet were shoulder-width apart, her center of gravity slightly lowered—a very stable posture.
“Third Sister, that moment at the dining table—when your hand touched the Ninth Prince’s sleeve—it was accidental, right?”
Ning Xin’s smile stiffened.
“I… I was just serving food to brother-in-law.”
“Does serving food require you to slide your fingers into someone’s sleeve?”
Ning Xin’s face flushed—not with shyness, but with anger. She had always been domineering at home. When had she ever been exposed like this to her face?
“What do you mean, Second Sister? Do you take me for that kind of person?”
“Whether you are or not, you know it yourself.” Ning Nuannuan’s voice wasn’t loud, but every word landed solidly. “The man I married—whether I like him or not—is mine. If you flirt with others outside, I don’t care. But if you dare set your sights right in front of me—”
She didn’t continue.
Ning Xin lifted her chin. “Second Sister, that’s harsh! I’m your own sister—”
“Half-sister,” Ning Nuannuan corrected.
That single word hit harder than a slap.
Ning Xin’s expression darkened completely. “So what if you’re born to the main wife? When you were at home, you weren’t even as favored as me! Do you even know who Father dotes on? You only married into the prince’s residence because of an imperial decree—not because of your own ability!”
Ning Wan, emboldened, chimed in from the side, “Exactly! Second Sister, don’t think marrying the Ninth Prince makes you superior. Look at what you’re wearing—not even a proper set of jewelry. Do you look like a primary consort of a prince?”
The servants in the courtyard stood far away, none daring to step forward.
After listening to the two of them, Ning Nuannuan neither grew angry nor smiled.
She simply lowered her head and looked at her own hands.
Then she walked toward the courtyard gate.
At the gate crouched two stone lions. She had noticed them upon entering—the one on the left had a chipped ear. The lion was carved from a single block of bluestone; with its base, it weighed at least four to five hundred pounds.
Ning Nuannuan walked up to the left stone lion and placed her right hand on top of its head.
Ning Xin and Ning Wan stood in the courtyard, not understanding what she was about to do.
Several passing servants also stopped in their tracks.
Ning Nuannuan’s five fingers tightened, gripping the ridges of the lion’s head.
The muscles in her right arm tensed.
Her hips lowered, power rising from her feet and flowing through her entire body.
Crack!
A fracture appeared on the stone lion’s head.
The crack spread downward from the top, visible to the naked eye.
Craaack—
The entire lion’s head, along with half its neck, broke off from the body. Ning Nuannuan caught the chunk of stone with one hand and weighed it slightly. The piece—at least sixty to seventy pounds—sat in her palm as steadily as a weight.
The courtyard fell deathly silent.
Ning Xin’s mouth hung open, unable to say a word. Ning Wan took two steps back, her back colliding with the trunk of a jujube tree.
Steward Liu was passing under the corridor with a tea tray. Seeing this scene, the tray fell to the ground with a clang. Teacups shattered, hot water splashed everywhere, and he forgot even to bend down to pick it up.
Ning Nuannuan casually set the stone piece on the ground. When it landed, the earth trembled slightly.
She brushed the stone dust from her hands and turned to look at the Ning sisters.
“You just asked what gives me the right to act superior.”
She walked up to Ning Xin.
Ning Xin was trembling all over, her legs knocking together. Was this really her sister? What kind of monster had come out of the mountains?
“S-second Sister—”
“I don’t have much ability.” Ning Nuannuan flexed her wrist, her joints cracking twice. “Just a bit more strength than most.”
Ning Wan’s legs gave out, and she collapsed onto the ground.
In the distant corridor, Lady Hesheli was approaching with her maids. She had originally come to call them for tea, but halfway there she saw that half a stone lion at the gate was missing.
She stopped.
A maid whispered, “Madam, that is the Second Young Lady…”
Lady Hesheli stood under the corridor, looking at the scene in the courtyard, unmoving for a long while.
Her gaze shifted from the broken stone on the ground to Ning Nuannuan. She had never paid much attention to this stepdaughter before—her impression was of a quiet, unremarkable girl with little presence.
But the person standing before her now—
Lady Hesheli said nothing. She turned around and walked back the way she came.
After taking a dozen steps, she quietly instructed the maid beside her, “Go call the master out from the study. Tell him… the stone lion at the courtyard gate is broken. He needs to see it with his own eyes.”