Honest and plain, she had been overly tactful.
Xiao Zhi indifferently withdrew his gaze.
The Contraception Decoction had long been prepared. Wan Tang secretly felt relieved that she hadn’t made any other demands and drank the bowl of bitter medicine without hesitation.
Only after leaving Meiyuan did she dare to breathe a few sighs of relief, raising her hand to wipe the cold sweat from her forehead.
But before she had gone far, a maid from Meiyuan chased after her: “Wan Tang, this is a reward from the Marquis.”
Without giving Wan Tang a chance to refuse, the maid stuffed a pouch into her hand and returned.
Wan Tang weighed it in her hand—it was heavy, probably about ten taels of silver.
She gave a bitter smile. A maid’s innocence was only worth this much. If she didn’t accept it, it would only make Xiao Zhi suspect her ulterior motives.
She tucked the pouch into her bosom and staggered back to Jinxiu Garden.
It was still early. After tidying herself up, Wan Tang went to attend to Song Zhiyun and her husband as they rose.
The newlyweds were inseparable, and Song Zhiyun always personally helped Xiao Yujue dress.
Wan Tang stood nearby, holding water for washing.
Xiao Yujue’s gaze seemed to drift over her face.
As a maid, Wan Tang was exceptionally beautiful—her delicate face as fair as mutton-fat jade, her lips naturally rosy, and even the small section of her neck visible above her collar seemed fragrant.
Song Zhiyun noticed Xiao Yujue’s gaze and subtly stepped in front of Wan Tang, blocking his view. “It’s getting late. Let’s hurry to pay our respects to Laofuren.”
Although Xiao Zhi was nominally their stepfather, since he had not yet married, Song Zhiyun was not required to attend to him morning and night. Instead, they paid their respects daily to Laofuren.
The Old Marquis had adopted a son for Xiao Zhi, originally intending for Xiao Yujue to become the Heir. No one had expected Xiao Zhi to return alive.
Although Xiao Zhi tacitly acknowledged this adopted son, he was in good health and would eventually marry and have children of his own. By then, the position of Heir would clearly no longer fall to Xiao Yujue.
Thus, Xiao Yujue and Song Zhiyun found themselves in an awkward position. Only by serving the Old Marquis and Laofuren well could they secure their footing in Houfu.
While Xiao Yujue was washing up, Song Zhiyun pulled Wan Tang aside and said resentfully, “From now on, you are not to attend to Daye when he rises!”
Wan Tang lowered her eyes submissively and replied, “This servant understands.”
Only after Song Zhiyun and her husband had left did she slowly raise her gaze, a flicker of hatred flashing in her eyes.
A month ago, on the very night Xiao Zhi inherited the title, Song Zhiyun, troubled and anxious, had claimed that a hairpin had fallen into the pond and made Wan Tang search for it in the water for half the night. It was already late autumn, and Wan Tang fell into a high fever that night, losing consciousness.
When she awoke again, she had been reborn.
In her previous life, it had been like this: before Song Zhiyun became pregnant, she constantly guarded against Wan Tang getting close to Xiao Yujue. After becoming pregnant, to secure her favor, she personally pushed Wan Tang into the fire.
Back then, every time Wan Tang attended to Xiao Yujue, Song Zhiyun forced her to recount every detail of the process. Hiding or lying was impossible—Song Zhiyun always found a way to force the truth out of her. Yet, after hearing it, she would become displeased, often beating or scolding Wan Tang. The areas of Wan Tang’s body hidden by clothing were perpetually bruised, and sometimes all ten fingertips would be pricked with needles until they bled before Song Zhiyun’s anger subsided.
Remembering that piercing pain that seemed to reach her very heart, Wan Tang still couldn’t help but tremble.
Xiao Yujue appeared refined and scholarly on the surface, but at his core, he was worse than a beast. After growing tired of her, he treated her like a plaything, giving her to other men for their amusement.
Once, she had been taken out of the estate by Xiao Yujue and did not return all night. The next day, when she came back, Song Zhiyun’s gaze toward her turned strange, and that very day, she tortured her to death, wrapping her body in a straw mat and throwing it into the Mass Burial Ground.
Wan Tang closed her eyes in resentment.
In this life, she had no intention of being a wronged ghost who submitted meekly to her fate.
The time left to her was running short; she had to first break free from the shackles of Song Zhiyun and her husband.
Though burning with anxiety, Wan Tang did not lose her composure. She continued to serve diligently and obediently by Song Zhiyun’s side, patiently waiting for an opportunity.
On this chilly night, with a biting cold wind, Wan Tang carried a cloak to meet Xiao Yujue upon his return to the estate.
Halfway there, taking advantage of the deserted surroundings, Xiao Yujue suddenly lowered his head and took a deep sniff at the back of her neck, then dragged Wan Tang into a nearby artificial hill cave.
In the pitch darkness, reeking of alcohol, Wan Tang struggled desperately, pleading pitifully, a truly wretched sight.
Xiao Zhi happened to pass by this spot on his way back to Meiyuan. Hearing the commotion, he initially had no intention of intervening.
He had seen Xiao Yujue walking ahead earlier; without much thought, he knew who was in the artificial hill.
“Daye, please spare this servant. Eldest Mistress will beat me to death. I beg you.”
The cold wind carried the sound of familiar sobs, just like that day when she had pleaded with him to let her go.
In the end, Xiao Zhi stopped in his tracks.