Pei Shuang climbed into the carriage. Instead of joining her inside, Qiao Wan pulled a hood over her head and sat outside alongside the driver.
The carriage was an ordinary conveyance Qiao Wan had sent someone to hire early that morning—the plain, unremarkable sort commonly seen trundling down any bustling street. The man holding the reins was one of Luo Fengxin’s people. He seemed to have inherited his master’s taciturn nature completely; like Luo Fengxin, he was a stubborn clam who barely uttered a word.
The one sitting outside refused to speak, and while the one inside was willing, she was hardly in the mood for idle chitchat. Left with nothing to do, Qiao Wan grew bored. With idle hands, she took the curved end of the horsewhip and began poking at the horse’s rump every now and then, prodding it until the poor beast swished its tail in irritation.
Unable to watch this any longer, the coachman confiscated the whip. Deprived of her makeshift toy and with a long journey ahead, Qiao Wan had no choice but to let her mind wander aimlessly.
To be fair, Miss Pei inside the carriage had led a truly bitter life. Having lost both parents early on, she was taken in by her uncle’s family. Her uncle and aunt were stingy, petty folks who constantly begrudged every mouthful of rice she ate, never once sparing her a kind face.
On the day Zheng Wei violated Pei Shuang, her uncle and aunt went so far as to drag Zheng Wei back, insisting that he take her in as a concubine. The Zheng Manor certainly didn’t lack a bowl of rice. Zheng Wei, likely not having had his fill that day, actually agreed. That very evening, he dispatched a small sedan chair to carry Pei Shuang into his residence.
“Sigh.”
A heavy sigh echoed right by Qiao Wan’s ear, making her jump in fright. Just yesterday, she had been startled out of her wits by that blunt fool Zhang Zihe; now, Xiao Bai’s abrupt voice caught her off guard again. At this rate, she felt her poor heart wouldn’t survive the torment these people put it through.
“Could you at least give me a heads-up before speaking next time?” Qiao Wan pulled her hood down lower and patted her chest. She wasn’t easily frightened by much, but sudden noises caught her off guard without fail.
Xiao Bai had been playing dead for half a month. Before, Qiao Wan would tease it occasionally, but over the past two days she had been busy digging pitfall traps for her enemies and hadn’t found the time. Who would have guessed that this melodramatic system would remain mute when teased, yet speak up on its own accord the moment she ignored it?
“I only spoke because I saw what you were recalling and felt so sorry for that poor girl,” Xiao Bai defended itself.
Qiao Wan was taken aback. “You didn’t know before? When I recruited her to be my inside informant, I discussed all of this with her.”
“I didn’t know! I was having an existential sulk back then!” Xiao Bai declared with righteous indignation.
Qiao Wan: “?” You were sulking, and yet you have the nerve to sound so proud of it?
Having nothing better to do anyway, and seeing that Xiao Bai seemed in better spirits, Qiao Wan decided to recount Pei Shuang’s past to it.
“That wasn’t even the point of her deepest hatred. Very few of Zheng Wei’s concubines joined his household willingly; most came from tragic backgrounds. When Pei Shuang first entered the Zheng Manor, life was quite miserable. It improved only after Zheng Wei’s novelty wore off and he stopped visiting her. Back then, there was a maidservant in their household named Qiu Chan. Seeing how pitiable Pei Shuang was, Qiu Chan often looked after her.”
After meeting Qiu Chan, Pei Shuang gradually opened up and brightened. That period was perhaps the happiest time of her life since her parents passed away. Unfortunately, good times never lasted. Over a minor dispute, Qiu Chan offended Lingxiang, maid to Chen Huiru, and Ling Xiang ran straight to Chen Huiru to complain. It so happened that Chen Huiru had just acquired a new stimulating aphrodisiac; hearing Ling Xiang’s grievance, she ordered Qiu Chan brought forward to test the drug on her.
Humiliated and violated beyond endurance after being forced to swallow the potion, Qiu Chan threw herself down a well. Chen Huiru ordered her hauled out. Finding her still breathing, Chen Huiru merely had her tossed into the woodshed.
“The servants were terrified of crossing Chen Huiru, so no one dared send word to Pei Shuang. By the time Pei Shuang realized Qiu Chan was missing, it was already the dead of night.”
Just as Qiao Wan reached this point in her story, the carriage arrived at the city gates and was halted by the guards on duty.
A soldier sized up Qiao Wan and the coachman before glancing toward the carriage curtain. “Who travels within?”
Qiao Wan hemmed and hawed, refusing to give a straight answer.
Sensing something suspicious, the soldier stepped forward to pull back the curtain.
Qiao Wan swiftly blocked him. Producing a waist token, she barked with haughty insolence, “We are from the Duke of Ning’s household, sent out of the city on urgent business. If you dare delay us, I will report this to our Second Master and make sure you pay dearly for it!”
The capital was teeming with nobles and officials, and the gate guards had seen their fair share of arrogant, overbearing lackeys. With corrupt ministers holding court nowadays, there was no justice to speak of; if a scene broke out, it was always the low-ranking soldiers who bore the brunt of the punishment.
The soldier curled his lip in silent resentment, stepped aside, and waved them through.
Once outside the city gates, the crowds thinned dramatically.
In a world with neither internet nor television, disguising an identity really is ridiculously easy, Qiao Wan mused to Xiao Bai, turning the token over and over in her hands. Hey, what do you say if next time I steal an article of Luo Jinhe’s clothing, dress up as a man, and claim to be the Emperor?
Xiao Bai was speechless. “All the guards in the capital recognize the Emperor. If you went somewhere far away, you might stand a chance.”
“That’s perfect then—we’re heading to Min Prefecture soon anyway.”
“Impersonating the Emperor is a treasonous offense,” Xiao Bai interrupted, unable to listen any further. “If you goof around like this and get caught, having ten heads wouldn’t be enough to chop off!”
Sigh. Deprived of an opportunity to cause mischief, Qiao Wan felt a twinge of disappointment. Soon enough, her spirits lifted again. If I can’t impersonate the Emperor, I can always impersonate Luo Fengxin!
Though, that wouldn’t work in the capital either. Luo Fengxin had previously overseen public security in the capital; aside from the new recruits enlisted over the past two years, nearly all the city patrols and guard garrisons knew her face.
Just as Qiao Wan was eagerly plotting her next scheme, she caught a rustle behind her. Pei Shuang parted the carriage curtain by a crack and asked in a low whisper, “Censor Qiao, how do you come to possess a Zheng family token?”
“It’s a counterfeit. Does it look real?” Qiao Wan turned and handed the plaque to Pei Shuang.
Pei Shuang inspected it closely before returning it to Qiao Wan with a shake of her head. “I’ve never examined one closely. Only the Zheng father and sons, along with the primary wife, hold waist tokens. None of us concubines were ever permitted one.”
Having spoken, she fell silent. Qiao Wan knew what she was thinking. Her story to Xiao Bai hadn’t finished yet; there was a continuation.
That fateful night, when Pei Shuang finally found Qiu Chan, the girl was still breathing, but burning with a searing fever and slipping in and out of consciousness.
Pei Shuang wanted to fetch a physician. As fate would have it, the only medical clinic in their ward had just changed ownership. The old physicians had departed, the new clinic had not yet opened, and aside from a lone caretaker watching over the renovations, there wasn’t a single doctor inside. If she wanted to find help, she had to leave the ward.
Yet the ward gates were already locked for curfew. Without a Zheng family token, Pei Shuang had no way out.
She pleaded with Zheng Wei, but he ignored her. She went to beg Zheng Baorong, and then pleaded with everyone in the Zheng household from top to bottom. Awakened from their slumber, those people were already displeased; hearing it was merely for the sake of a lowly servant, they grew thoroughly impatient. Not one was willing to listen to her.
Left with no choice, Pei Shuang took all her savings and slipped out into the streets, hoping to bribe the patrolling watchmen.
Under normal circumstances, every household had emergencies, and the night watchmen were fairly familiar with the local residents; a modest bribe would usually persuade them to bend the rules.
Unfortunately, the Zheng family was a special case. Zheng Wei was notorious for abducting and seizing women, and the concubines he dragged into his manor had attempted late-night escapes more than once or twice. Burned by past incidents, the watchmen on duty that night feared Pei Shuang was merely making a bid for freedom. No matter how she pleaded, they refused to let her pass and dragged her right back to the Zheng Manor.
Pei Shuang spent the entire night struggling in vain. When the dawn-breaking drums finally sounded across the city, Qiu Chan had already passed away.
“If only I had possessed this token that night.” Pei Shuang murmured, her voice raw and bitter.
Even with the token, it might not have changed the outcome. Qiu Chan had succumbed in a single night; her condition was so critical that even an accomplished physician might not have saved her. Yet, having that token would have meant a sliver of hope.
“My condolences,” Qiao Wan said softly. She was never good at consoling others, which was why she hadn’t sat inside the carriage with Pei Shuang in the first place. Pausing briefly, she added, “Back then, the lack of this token cost Qiu Chan her chance at life. Today, this very token will hasten Chen Huiru’s demise.”
Hearing this, a fierce hatred surfaced in Pei Shuang’s eyes. She nodded firmly and retreated back into the carriage.
Before long, the carriage ground to a halt. Enclosed by tall grey-brick walls, they were inside a sprawling private courtyard.
Qiao Wan led Pei Shuang inside. Just past the central courtyard, they saw Chen Huiru, Ling Xiang, and the manservant A-Quan, all gagged and bound securely with thick ropes on the ground.
When Qiu Chan was tormented that day, all three had had a hand in it. Catching sight of Pei Shuang, their eyes widened in sheer terror. Muffled cries escaped their gagged mouths as they writhed desperately against their bonds.
Beside the three captives stood two men and a woman. One was tall and broad-shouldered with a sturdy, muscular build—this was Luan Yu. Of the remaining two, the young man was strikingly handsome, waving a folding fan with a lazy, smiling expression that carried an air of nonchalant cynicism. This was another of Qiao Wan’s subordinates, Yun Guangyi. The woman beside him wore a veil that half-covered her face; the cold, aloof gaze in her exposed eyes made it abundantly clear she was not to be crossed. She was Yun Guangyi’s sister, Yun Xiangrong.
“Did anyone spot them when bringing them out of the city?” Qiao Wan asked, casting a glance at the three on the ground.
“Not a soul.” Yun Guangyi reached into his sleeve and produced a string of waist tokens, jingling them cheerfully. The tokens represented more than half the noble households in the capital.
Noticing A-Quan struggling frantically, he gave him a nudge with the toe of his boot. “Settle down. You should count your blessings you crossed my path. At least I let you ride out here comfortably in a carriage. Had it been a certain woman handling this, you’d probably have been packed inside crates of salted fish.”
Far away in Min Prefecture, Yue Xiu sneezed, wondering who was badmouthing her behind her back. Then again, far too many people spoke ill of her to bother guessing. She rubbed her nose, tugged down her grime-stained hat, and went right back to blending in among the refugees, discussing fishing techniques with a few local fishermen.
Yun Guangyi’s banter did nothing to calm A-Quan; instead, it only sent Chen Huiru and Ling Xiang into even more violent thrashing.
“Give it to me,” Qiao Wan commanded, cutting off Yun Guangyi before he could waste any more breath.
Yun Guangyi shrugged, handing Qiao Wan a small paper packet of medicinal powder and a ceramic bowl. “I consulted a physician. The dosage here is roughly equivalent to what she forced down Miss Qiu Chan’s throat that day.”
Beside them, Pei Shuang’s fists had remained tightly clenched from the moment she laid eyes on Chen Huiru. Hearing Qiu Chan’s name spoken aloud unleashed an overwhelming wave of grief and fury. She glared at the three captives, her eyes bloodshot, looking as though they might split at the seams.
Qiao Wan gently held her back with an arm and walked over to the side with the bowl. Not far from them stood a well. Qiao Wan drew a pail of fresh water, dissolved the powder thoroughly into the bowl, and walked over to Chen Huiru. Crouching down before her, she said:
“I have always despised underhanded tricks like spiking aphrodisiacs. As women, we ought to understand best the sheer degradation of having such filth forced down our throats—it is far more vile than lethal poison. I once assumed such empathy was inherent to all human beings, but it seems Madam Chen cannot comprehend it without experiencing it firsthand.”
With that, Qiao Wan offered Chen Huiru a faint smile.
The smile sent a chill straight down Chen Huiru’s spine. Staring at Qiao Wan in sheer panic, she squirmed and threw herself backward in desperate retreat.
Qiao Wan stood up, held the bowl out to Pei Shuang, and asked softly, “Will you do the honors, or shall I?”
“I will do it.” Pei Shuang took the bowl. Her hands trembled violently under the weight of her surging emotions. Seeing this, Qiao Wan shot a look at Luan Yu. Understanding immediately, Luan Yu stepped forward, hoisted Chen Huiru up onto her knees, and pinned her firmly from behind so Pei Shuang could pour the draught down her throat.
Only a few short paces separated Pei Shuang from Chen Huiru, yet she took them agonizingly slowly. With every step, memories of Qiu Chan’s lively smile and her gruesome final moments flashed violently through her mind. Pei Shuang’s breathing grew ragged, and a terrifying red hue overtook her eyes.
“That day, you forced a bowl of medicine down Qiu Chan’s throat. Today, on Qiu Chan’s behalf, I return it to you,” Pei Shuang said, ripping the cloth gag from Chen Huiru’s mouth, her voice coarse and raspy.
“It had nothing to do with me! It wasn’t my fault!” Chen Huiru babbled frantically, grasping at any excuse. “She was the one who jumped into the well! I even had people pull her out! Who could have known she would still die afterward? That was her own fate!”
Those words completely shattered whatever restraint Pei Shuang had left. Grabbing Chen Huiru by the collar, she shrieked, “You beat her constantly before that—was that her fate too?”
“She was a bought maidservant of the Zheng family! She was clumsy and clumsy with her hands, so I merely disciplined her a little—I never beat her to death.” Realizing halfway through how dreadful her explanation sounded, Chen Huiru hastily reiterated that Qiu Chan’s death truly had nothing to do with her.
It was too late; Pei Shuang had heard the callous truth behind her words loud and clear.
“In the eyes of people like you, everyone else is merely your plaything, aren’t they? If you feel like it, you seize them; if you’re unhappy, you beat them to vent your rage.”
“The one who seized you was that bastard Zheng Wei!” Hearing the underlying accusation, Chen Huiru glimpsed a faint ray of hope and scrambled to shove all the blame onto Zheng Wei. “Zheng Wei had a hand in beating Qiu Chan too! He wanted to force himself on her, but Qiu Chan refused, so he constantly found fault with her and made up excuses to punish her! Settle your score with the one who owes you—if you want revenge, go find Zheng Wei!”
“Enough!” Pei Shuang roared, cutting Chen Huiru off with blazing, tear-filled eyes. “You are all cut from the very same cloth! The night Qiu Chan died, I knelt outside your rooms for two whole hours! Zheng Baorong, Zheng Yi, Lady Wang, Zheng Wei, and you—I knelt and begged every single one of you! And yet not one of you was willing to get out of bed to call a physician for Qiu Chan! To you, a living human life isn’t worth as much as an uninterrupted night’s sleep!”
As she said this, she realized the utter futility of speaking with someone like Chen Huiru. If Chen Huiru possessed even a shred of humanity, she would never have committed such atrocities in the first place.
Pei Shuang released Chen Huiru’s collar and pinched her cheeks hard, trying to pry her mouth open to force the potion down. Though Chen Huiru’s lips were pinched apart, facing life and death, she clamped her teeth together with all her might. For a moment, Pei Shuang could not force a drop past them.
“Not like that,” Qiao Wan said, shaking her head. “Pinching there won’t work; she can still resist. You have to do it like this.”
Pei Shuang had likely never expected this seemingly delicate, gentle Censor Qiao to be so experienced in such matters. Stunned for a second, she let go.
Qiao Wan was calculating the time; dragging this out any longer risked compromising their timetable. Though she had promised to let Pei Shuang handle it personally, it seemed she had to lend a hand.
Under Qiao Wan’s practiced touch, Chen Huiru’s clamped jaws were forced apart notch by notch. Seizing the opening, Pei Shuang tipped the bowl and poured the entire contents down her throat.
Once it was done, Pei Shuang let go of the bowl as though all her strength had been drained, stumbling backward several paces.
“Take Miss Pei back first,” Qiao Wan instructed Luan Yu while pulling out a handkerchief to wipe her fingers.
Instead of answering, Luan Yu merely tipped his chin upward, gesturing for her to look behind her.
Qiao Wan turned around. There, standing quietly beneath the veranda some distance away, stood Luo Fengxin, looking directly at her.
A sudden, inexplicable wave of panic seized Qiao Wan’s heart. She reflexively tucked her hands behind her back and asked Xiao Bai internally, When did she arrive?
“Just now, right when you were helping Pei Shuang force-feed Chen Huiru,” Xiao Bai replied.
“Then why didn’t you warn me?”
“I was afraid an abrupt shout would startle you! You scare so easily—what if your hand slipped and half the bowl spilled? Wouldn’t that ruin the dosage?”
Qiao Wan: “?” That logic is so flawless I can’t even argue with it.
The guards securing the courtyard were all Luo Fengxin’s people, so it was only natural they hadn’t announced her arrival to Qiao Wan. As for Luan Yu and the others, they likely shared Xiao Bai’s thought process: seeing Qiao Wan focused on the task, they didn’t want to distract her until the deed was done.
I managed to dig a hole for myself yet again! Had I known, I would have had Luan Yu do it. Why did I have to jump in personally just now?
Qiao Wan’s fingers twisted her handkerchief into knots behind her back. She wasn’t worried that Luo Fengxin would leak any secrets; she simply didn’t want Luo Fengxin to see this ruthless, ugly side of her.
Even if you refuse to call me what you used to, I still hoped that in your heart, I would always remain the kind, cheerful Sister Wan from the past.