Chapter 020: She Has Plenty of Strength and Means!
At this moment, Qin Chanyue was at the Prince of Southern Pacification’s Mansion.
It was early in the Si hour, with the sky bright and clear.
Large clusters of Green Pine trees were rooted throughout the Prince of Southern Pacification’s Mansion, enveloping the entire estate in a deep, emerald green. The fragrance of pinewood drifted through the air.
The summers in Chang’an were hot and long, the cicadas’ chirping among the leaves never ceasing. As Qin Chanyue walked along a Shady Green Corridor and approached the door of the room where Zhennan Wang resided, she spotted Liu Yandai standing guard from afar.
The weather was radiant, the sun scorching the earth. Liu Yandai wore a Goat’s Milk Color cross-collared long skirt embroidered with lotus flowers. The garment had a fine sheen, shimmering brilliantly, but its ethereal, fairy-like style was meant for someone with a slender figure. On Liu Yandai, it appeared tight and awkward, almost revealing the flesh squeezed by the fabric.
While at the Houfu, Liu Yandai managed well enough, as the matrons Qin Chanyue assigned to her would select clothes according to her build. But here at the mansion, with no one to choose for her, she simply took the finest garments available. Fine they were, yet ill-suited for her—though Liu Yandai would never complain.
She truly resembled a rabbit, enduring silently. Unless the pain was unbearable, not a single sound would escape her lips.
She must have been extremely hot, with beads of sweat the size of soybeans continuously dripping from her forehead, dampening her hair at the temples. The front of her robe was also soaked with sweat, clinging ungracefully to her skin. Qin Chanyue sighed deeply at the sight.
This child was stubbornly literal-minded. If told to guard the door, she would stand there rigidly. Since Qin Chanyue had ordered that no one else was to enter, Liu Yandai forbade anyone from going in, not even fetching a chair to sit on, just standing there steadfastly, a sight that stirred anxiety.
Qin Chanyue hurried over.
As she approached, she saw Liu Yandai walking toward her from a distance. Liu Yandai lowered her head and bowed in greeting: “Greetings, Pomu.”
Qin Chanyue waved her hand dismissively, heading toward Zhennan Wang’s room as she said, “Return to your room and change your clothes—never mind, don’t wear your own clothes. I’ll find a set for you.”
Liu Yandai was like a wild, untamed little weed. To shape her into a flower with lush branches and vibrant buds, she needed careful pruning and meticulous grooming; she couldn’t be left to grow haphazardly on her own.
Liu Yandai meekly agreed and retreated along the corridor to her own room.
When she came from the Houfu, she had only two maidservants assigned by Qin Chanyue to attend to her. Now at the mansion, these same two maidservants served her.
The mansion had allotted her a Guest Wing Room, not particularly spacious, filled with ice basins inside. Upon entering, she instructed the maidservants to prepare water for a bath. After washing up, she emerged to find a matron from Qin Chanyue’s side delivering a set of clothes.
The outfit was a pale pink round-neck bustier style, cinching the bust but not the waist, paired with a tender green outer robe. It came with gauze silk stockings as thin as a cicada’s wings and a pair of pearl shoes.
To complement the pale pink garment, a tender pink hydrangea was included. Its stem was a fresh green, and the petals bore faint traces of morning dew, clearly a flower that had been meticulously cared for.
Liu Yandai changed into this attire and stood before the ancient mirror, instantly blushing crimson across half her face.
This wrap-style dress couldn’t contain her bosom at all. Bound by the pink corset, a deep white cleavage was revealed. And she was fair-skinned to begin with—under the sunlight, it glared dazzlingly, stinging people’s eyes.
How could such attire be worn by a proper wife!
She hunched her chest in shame, only to have her shoulders straightened by the nanny, who said, “What is Shizi Furen hiding from?”
This nanny, surnamed Li, was also formerly a military officer, but her temperament wasn’t as fierce as Nanny Zhao’s. Instead, she exuded a straightforward vigor. Pressing Liu Yandai’s shoulders, she opened her inwardly curved posture and said, “Stand straight. You look beautiful in this outfit.”
With the waistline loosened, the flesh around the waist was no longer visible. Instead, the curve of her hips could be faintly glimpsed. Her chest was full, and her entire body was as white as porcelain, gleaming with a cool, moist sheen. Her joints were tinged with a faint pink. A hydrangea was tucked into her hair, and amidst the pink and fair tones, she looked like a dewy, juicy peach.
She wasn’t slender but rather full-figured, exuding a hint of sensuality. With such coloring, she shouldn’t dress plainly but should be adorned with lively hues. Her hair shouldn’t be tied too tightly either—it should be looser and fuller. Since her face was round, she should have long, curved crescent moon eyebrows drawn on and vibrant lip rouge applied.
After Nanny Li finished adorning her, she pushed her before the mirror and nodded in satisfaction, saying, “Shizi Furen resembles Madam.”
Though not as strikingly beautiful or imposing as Madam, she shared the same full-figured charm. Coupled with Liu Yandai’s habit of lowering her gaze and bowing her head when meeting others, she possessed a uniquely shy and endearing grace.
Seeing herself like this, Liu Yandai felt she looked vastly different from before—too conspicuous, giving her a sense of being stared at by everyone. Her lips trembled repeatedly before she finally managed to squeeze out a sentence: “No, it’s not beautiful.”
“Why isn’t it beautiful?” Nanny Li raised an eyebrow. “Just go out and walk around. You’ll see—it’s beautiful.”
The people of Dachen had always favored delicacy and elegance, preferring beauties who were quiet and unassuming, ideally as slender as willow branches, evoking the graceful silhouette of a dragon. Thus, clothing tended to be slim-fitting. And because noble families favored docile women, everyone dressed plainly and elegantly, expecting women to be proper and not flamboyant. But Qin Chanyue paid no heed to this. She was uniquely beautiful, and whatever she wore had to suit her whims. Whatever she wore, no one dared comment. When it came to Liu Yandai, it should be the same.
Her daughter-in-law didn’t need to be the most outstanding, but she couldn’t be mediocre, merely following others. Even if she wasn’t the most prominent, she should still have her own distinctive charm.
All girls of sixteen or seventeen are budding flowers—how could any be unattractive? It’s just that if she herself felt unattractive, others would perceive her that way too.
But Liu Yandai’s timid nature remained unchanged. Dressed like this, she didn’t dare go out and stayed in the side chamber instead.
Just then, a message arrived from outside, saying that a servant from the Houfu had come outside the manor, sent by Shiziye. Shiziye had brought pastries for Shizi Furen, and it was said he had even personally written a letter—back when Zhongyi Marquis wanted to appoint someone else as Shiziye, everyone in the Houfu stopped calling Zhou Yuanting “Shizi.” Now that Zhou Wenshan had been deposed, they had started calling him Shizi again.
In this small change of address, who knew how many power struggles lay hidden beneath the surface? Only the less perceptive failed to notice, and the clever never pointed it out.
The main gate of the Prince of Southern Pacification’s Mansion was guarded by personal soldiers, preventing outsiders from entering. The servant boy could only hand over the items to the soldiers outside, who then relayed them to Liu Yandai.
Upon hearing this, Liu Yandai obediently took the letter to examine.
This was the first time Zhou Yuanting had written her a letter.
Opening the envelope, she found Yunyan Paper inside, covered with Zhou Yuanting’s handwriting.
In the letter, Zhou Yuanting first inquired about how she was faring in the Prince of Southern Pacification’s Mansion, then straightforwardly wrote: “These past few days with you away from the mansion, many troubles have arisen here. I’ve made several mistakes and upset Mother, so I dare not go see her. Could you go to Mother on my behalf and find out if she’s angry with me?”
“When you speak with Mother, be careful with your words. Don’t ask directly, and don’t let her realize I’m the one asking. Just say it’s your own concern.”
In the letter, Zhou Yuanting practically spelled out every word she should say. Through the paper, an urgency seeped from between the lines.
It wasn’t that Zhou Yuanting couldn’t be subtle, but if he were too subtle, Liu Yandai’s blockhead might not understand. It was better to be direct.
Liu Yandai held the letter, reading it over and over, but hesitated, reluctant to follow her husband’s instructions.
In the past, she would have obeyed her husband in everything. Back then, she believed that only by listening to him would he like her, and only if he liked her would she have a child. With a child, she could respect her Pomu above and raise the child below, becoming a dignified Shizi Furen. Then, her Pomu would like her. But…
But ever since witnessing her Pomu’s poisoning skills, Liu Yandai suddenly realized that her husband might not be so important after all. Her Pomu didn’t seem to truly revere “husband” as the ultimate authority, nor did she care much about “son’s” status. In her Pomu’s eyes, no one was more important than herself. A betraying husband could be drugged, and an unfilial son could simply be discarded.
Her Pomu was different from most women in the world, Liu Yandai thought. Here, all those years of learning about male superiority and female inferiority might have been wrong. Her Pomu had her own set of rules.
So, pleasing Zhou Yuanting wasn’t very useful. It was better to please her Pomu directly.
By cutting out the useless husband—no middleman taking a cut—she could latch onto the thickest leg herself!
As for this letter—
Liu Yandai pinched the soft flesh under her chin, thinking for a moment. Then, clutching the letter, she marched off proudly to find her Pomu.
Scheming wasn’t something Yandai understood, but Yandai knew how to tattle! She would take this letter to her Pomu! Whatever mischief Zhou Yuanting was planning, as long as this letter reached her Pomu’s hands, her Pomu would see right through it!
Liu Yandai lifted her chin proudly.
She felt a sense of “helping her Pomu,” and in that moment, she was so excited she hurried out the door.
As Liu Yandai stepped out of her chamber, she happened to run into Crown Prince Chen Feng, who had also arrived at the Prince of Southern Pacification’s Mansion.
A few days earlier, the news of Zhennan Wang returning injured had shocked half the court, though most didn’t know how he had been wounded. Only a few were aware.
Such as the Crown Prince.
Zhennan Wang’s injury was tied to a political struggle, and the Crown Prince was one of the players in that game.
The Prince of Southern Pacification was a member of the Crown Prince’s faction. The late Empress had previously established marital ties with the Qin family, meaning the Qin family had been part of the late Empress’s faction. Thus, the Prince of Southern Pacification later chose to support the Crown Prince. If the Second Prince wanted to seize the Crown Prince’s position, he would first have to eliminate the Prince of Southern Pacification. Therefore, the Second Prince used spies to secretly harm the Prince of Southern Pacification. After being wounded, the Prince of Southern Pacification captured witnesses and obtained material evidence, which he sent all the way back to Chang’an.
Currently, the Crown Prince was presenting this evidence piece by piece to the old Emperor Yongchang, forcing him to punish the Second Prince.
Emperor Yongchang had never favored the Crown Prince—the Crown Prince was born to the late Empress. Before her death, the late Empress and the old Emperor had quarreled so bitterly that they almost never saw each other again. This led Emperor Yongchang to resent the Crown Prince as well, turning his affection instead to the Imperial Consort.
The Imperial Consort, in turn, gave birth to a Second Prince whose talents were no less than the Crown Prince’s. Thus, Emperor Yongchang favored the Second Prince even more. Out of this partiality, Emperor Yongchang also wished to pass the throne to the Second Prince. With the Emperor’s favor above and a beloved consort supporting him from behind, this was the reason the Second Prince dared to target the Crown Prince’s faction.
Now, Emperor Yongchang was reluctant to punish the Second Prince, and the court was deadlocked.
A silent storm was brewing within this quiet court. Those caught in it dared not utter a word, while those standing outside could not comprehend the turmoil within, still laughing merrily as they admired the summer rain and drank wine, completely unaware that a great blade already hung over everyone’s heads. As for when it would fall and upon whose head it would land, that would depend on their own means.
In a way, the struggles within the palace were no different from those in the Zhongyi Hou Mansion. Those in the palace fought for the throne, while those in the Zhongyi Hou Mansion fought for the position of Shizi. Both were striving for the highest position within their reach, except that failure for the former meant certain death for the entire clan.
The Crown Prince’s visit to the Prince of Southern Pacification’s Mansion was to discuss court affairs with him—some days earlier, he had already secretly met with the Prince of Southern Pacification.
The Prince of Southern Pacification had publicly claimed to be unconscious to make everyone believe he was critically injured and beyond recovery, thereby pressuring Emperor Yongchang. In reality, however, he was awake and had privately offered the Crown Prince much advice on political maneuvering, which was why the Crown Prince often came to seek guidance.
However, if he encountered two particular individuals, he could not enter.
One was Liu Yandai, and the other was Qin Chanyue. The former served as the latter’s eyes and ears, while the latter was the Prince of Southern Pacification’s beloved.
Neither of them knew that the Prince of Southern Pacification was still feigning unconsciousness, and no one could bar them from the mansion. To maintain the charade, they guarded the entrance, so even if the Crown Prince arrived, he would have to find a way to climb through a window or take a detour.
Today, as the Crown Prince approached from a distance, he caught sight of a pink figure moving along the shaded corridor and instinctively glanced over.
At the time, the Crown Prince was at a corner, hidden behind a pillar. The other person did not notice him and continued skipping cheerfully forward.
The entire corridor was enveloped in green shade, a coolness spreading through the air. The Young Lady walking briskly within was completely unaware of anyone nearby. Her Pearl Shoes moved swiftly along the corridor, and her full chest rose and fell with each step. The Crown Prince’s gaze fell upon her, and for a moment, he felt as if his eyes had been stung.
The people of Dachen admired bamboo, and women were often slender and elegant, like cranes—graceful and strong, renowned for dancing in the palm of one’s hand. But Liu Yandai was different. She was soft and plump, slightly clumsy, and when she ran, it did not evoke elegance but rather a sense of—deliciousness.
Like a rich, creamy white paste served on a plate, one bite offered sweet fragrance and smoothness, with tender, springy meat that teased the tongue, its succulent aroma making saliva pool in the mouth.
Yandai, Yandai—truly as beautiful as dark pigment, striking the eyes directly.
Upon seeing her face, the Crown Prince recalled the words of Liu Yandai he had overheard while passing by earlier.
“Pomu has been so good to me—she found me eight men!”
Eight—
Although Dachen upheld male superiority and female subservience, once a woman’s status rose high enough, it inevitably bred certain vices, such as “keeping outside concubines.” Qin Chanyue came from a military family and had been an unrestrained, arrogant character since childhood; it was entirely possible she secretly kept a few men.
But for a mother-in-law to arrange men for her daughter-in-law was truly outrageous, and for this Shizi Furen to actually accept and use them was simply—
Various terms swirled in his mind, until finally four words emerged: utterly depraved.
Yet the troublemaker remained completely unaware. She was thinking about how she would later complain to Pomu, and the more she thought about it, the happier she became.
In the past, Zhou Yuanting had looked down on her, constantly criticizing her and bullying her. Though she hadn’t dared to resist, she had remembered it all in her heart. Now, things were better—Zhou Yuanting would come begging for her help, and not only would she refuse, she would also complain to Pomu!
Pomu would surely teach him a lesson!
At this thought, her plump little face lifted with a radiant smile.
She rarely felt such joy, and with no one around, she revealed a hint of happiness seldom seen in ordinary times, skipping and bouncing forward.
The Crown Prince’s steps inexplicably paused for a moment.
By then, Liu Yandai had already reached the corridor pillar and was turning around it.
She was habitually slow, careless, and not very sharp—neither keen of hearing nor clear of sight—so naturally, as she rounded the corner, she failed to notice the figure standing behind the corridor eave and bumped right into him.
The Crown Prince stood a head taller than her, with broad shoulders and a sturdy chest. Colliding with him felt like hitting a wall.
The Crown Prince standing before her could easily have dodged. As a trained martial artist, his steps were steady and powerful; he wouldn’t stumble even on a cliff, let alone when faced with a delicate woman rushing toward him.
But for some reason, his feet seemed rooted to the ground, and he didn’t move aside, watching as she crashed into him.
Her flesh was soft, unlike the firmness of a martial artist. Upon impact, the flesh all over her body trembled momentarily, like ripples spreading across a piece of smooth, plump mutton-fat jade.
The Crown Prince’s gaze burned at the sight.
The next moment, the rushing Shizi Furen let out an “ouch” and stumbled backward.
The Crown Prince’s hand twitched, hesitating briefly between catching her or not. But in the end, his hand reached out and pulled her firmly into his embrace.
The moment he touched her, he thought: indeed, she is very soft.
Liu Yandai’s waist was not slender but rather plump. Wrapping an arm around it felt as if it might sink into her flesh; grabbing hold, the sensation was entirely soft and yielding. Besides the softness, there was also a coolness to her, perhaps due to women’s generally lower body temperature. Touching her was like holding a piece of cool jade.
She was soft, but the Crown Prince was hard. His entire body was composed of extremely firm muscles, and the heat of a man’s vitality radiated from him. Drawing close felt like approaching a piece of red-hot iron. His iron-like palm gripped her waist, fingers digging tightly into the soft flesh.
Liu Yandai had never been touched by a man like this before. After marrying Zhou Yuanting, he had never laid a hand on her. The eight men her mother-in-law had given her, she hadn’t even dared to glance at. Yet now, she was pressed tightly against a man, his hand gripping her waist so firmly!
Liu Yandai’s face instantly flushed hot, her fair, delicate skin turning a moist pink. She let out a startled cry, hurriedly pushing the man away before stumbling back two steps. Not daring to lift her head, she kept it bowed as she hastily performed a curtsy and said, “This humble woman has acted improperly.”
After speaking, she still dared not look up—she didn’t recognize the Crown Prince’s face either, so she could only stare fixedly at his boots, standing there in a state of panic.
The Crown Prince’s boots were embroidered with golden dragons, something no ordinary person could wear—even Zhennan Wang wasn’t entitled to such attire. She must have offended someone extraordinary!
The Crown Prince standing opposite her slowly withdrew his hand, his gaze cold as he looked at her.
Her face was indeed filled with panic. Standing before him to curtsy, though she never raised her head, as she bent forward in the gesture—whether intentional or not—her soft figure twisted into an exceptionally alluring curve, blatantly displayed before his eyes.
Having already kept eight outside concubines, yet now putting on such an act: apologizing with her words while her body spoke with such sincerity, as if eager to thrust every bit of her charm into his sight. Truly… dishonest.
The Crown Prince’s brow furrowed tightly as he scrutinized her face, then said coldly, “It’s fine. You may leave.”
Liu Yandai still didn’t lift her head, keeping it bowed as she walked all the way back—she was so afraid of exchanging even a single word with him that she didn’t dare to pass by him to continue searching for her mother-in-law. Instead, she chose to turn her back and leave, intending to retreat to her own wing room.
As she turned, she wished she could simply run away from this place, but she didn’t dare, fearing it would be improper. So she could only quicken her steps with small, hurried movements.
The Crown Prince glanced up and saw her waist and hips swaying, the hem of her skirt fluttering around her ankles with each step, like some kind of invitation.
And just as the Crown Prince was watching her, the woman happened to turn her head back, casting a shy, timid glance at him, full of coquettish charm. One look was enough to know—this woman had ill intentions, flaunting her charms at the first man she encountered!
The Crown Prince’s brow furrowed even tighter. He thought, I’ve heard this Shizi Furen of Zhongyi Hou Mansion was brought back from the distant war-torn lands of Nanjiang. Barbarians, indeed, have no sense of propriety.
Then, he coldly withdrew his gaze, swept it around the surroundings, and headed toward the Guest Wing Room.
He would have to wait for Qin Chanyue to leave, then find a way to avoid Liu Yandai and enter Zhennan Wang’s wing room.
—
Meanwhile, Qin Chanyue knew nothing of what was happening outside.
After arriving at Zhennan Wang’s wing room, as usual, she went straight to the bed to check on him.
Zhennan Wang was still unconscious.
Lifting the dark green silk quilt revealed a bronzed, robust physique beneath. The tall Zhennan Wang lay on the bed, eyes closed, as if lost in a deep dream.
Who knew when he would wake up.
At the sight of him, Qin Chanyue’s heart softened with emotion. Recalling the events of her past life, she felt even more remorse toward this adoptive brother of hers. Slowly sitting on the edge of the bed, she lowered her head to examine his wounds.
Her adoptive brother’s wounds were on his chest. Over the past few days, they had mostly healed, recovering faster than an ordinary person’s—a characteristic of the Qin Family Army.
The Qin Family Army had ingested potent toxins, akin to poisonous elixirs. Those who could not withstand the effects would perish, while those who survived would undergo a transformation in their constitution. They would become stronger than ordinary people, immune to Gu Poison, and capable of rapid recovery even from severe injuries. While a single stab would kill an average person, members of the Qin Family Army could endure over a dozen such wounds.
It is said that there were once soldiers of the Qin Family Army who, after taking medicine and enduring the ordeal, actually grew two inches taller out of thin air.
Qin Chanyue noticed that the wound on his chest had already scabbed over, so she reached out and gently touched it.
Her soft, delicate skin brushed against the rough blood scab, producing a strange, tingling sensation that caused Chu Heng, lying on the bed, to tense up momentarily.
An ice basin was placed in the room, and the doors and windows were shut to keep the cool air from escaping.
With the doors and windows closed, the summer heat and the clamor of the season were blocked outside, leaving the room in profound silence, broken only by the faint sounds of Qin Chanyue sitting beside the bed.
She carefully examined his body, occasionally reaching out to touch the area around the wound. When she encountered old scars, she would let out a soft sigh.
With every slight rustle of the soft silk, his heart would stir in response. Her light, gentle aura spread through the air, enveloping him and sending shivers down his spine. His strong, sturdy body suddenly turned into a puddle of soft mud, completely at Qin Chanyue’s mercy. He had no strength to resist, only lying there limply, allowing her to tend to him.
He loved her so deeply. If she were willing to peel away this layer of armor, she would see his heart pounding fiercely for her. Every time she drew near, he would leap with joy, his breath growing unsteadily faster.
But Qin Chanyue noticed none of this.
After her routine examination of Chu Heng’s body, she found that his injuries were almost healed, yet he still hadn’t awakened.
She gently covered Chu Heng with the soft silk quilt again, patting it lightly as she thought, Heaven has pitied me, allowing me to inexplicably live a second life. I pray my elder brother will awaken safely.
Once she had finished checking his wounds, she called for someone outside to bring in some meat porridge, intending to feed Chu Heng herself.
Since Chu Heng was unconscious and unable to eat on his own, she could only use a feeding spoon that went directly to his throat to give him some soft, mushy meat porridge. Naturally, he couldn’t eat much—just a few mouthfuls were enough.
After feeding him, there was little else to do. Her adoptive brother’s awakening was uncertain, so she could only wait idly by his side.
With nothing to occupy her, Qin Chanyue asked someone to fetch some entertaining storybooks and snacks. She arranged them on the low couch, selected two comfortable-looking pillows to lean against, and settled in to read the storybooks to pass the time.
This way, she could keep watch over her adoptive brother, and when he awoke, she would be the first to know.
The room was filled with cool air from the ice, refreshing and comfortable against the skin. Qin Chanyue removed her pearl shoes, stretched out, and reclined halfway on the low couch to read the storybooks. As she read, drowsiness gradually crept over her.
It was just past noon.
Although the doors and windows were closed, a faint layer of sunlight still filtered in from outside, illuminating every detail in the room with clarity.
Zhennan Wang had always lived simply. The room had no unnecessary decorations—facing the entrance was the large bed, by the window stood a low couch, and opposite the couch, against the wall, was a desk for work. There wasn’t even a screen in sight, leaving the room utterly plain and devoid of adornment, let alone any incense burners, tall stands, or Persian carpets.
The only thing in the room that could be considered luxurious was the Madam on the low couch.
Madam was dressed in a bright blue gown today, its hem rippling as it draped over the low couch. Everything around her seemed dim, only she was radiant and vivid. A faint glow fell upon her, as if casting a gentle golden halo. With her slightest movement, the folds of her skirt came alive like shimmering water. When she slightly raised her head, light and shadow danced across her face like a moving painting—every stroke of time seemed blessed with divine favor.
In her stillness, a quiet beauty emerged from that vividness, like a flower spirit that had gained sentience, blending allure and innocence on a single face. Even when fierce, she remained captivating, holding one’s gaze.
The flower spirit did not love reading. After flipping through a couple of pages of the book in her hands, she shook her head and gradually slumped onto the couch.
The surroundings were too quiet, without a single sound. Her slender fingers relaxed slightly, and the storybook in her hand slipped with a soft “thud,” falling to the floor.
With that “thud,” the man on the bed slowly opened his eyes.
When he awoke, the room was silent, save for the sound of shallow breathing. He sat up slowly, his gaze settling on Qin Chanyue lying on the low couch.
Qin Chanyue slept without a care, rolling freely on the couch. Her dark hair had long since come loose, and the blue hydrangea tucked into her hair was half-buried in the flowing ink-black strands, only faintly revealing a few petals beside her cheek.
She was deeply asleep, with faint sunlight falling on her face, making her appear as if she were glowing. The tall and imposing Zhennan Wang stood before her, unable to look away, fearing that with a single glance, she might suddenly vanish.
It had been a very, very long time since he had seen her this close.
On such a tranquil afternoon, she did not argue with him or find him bothersome. Instead, she lay here quietly, keeping watch over him. His memories suddenly drifted back to a distant past, to their childhood, when they had shared many, many afternoons like this.
Long ago, before all the Qin family members had perished on the battlefield, Chu Heng was taken in by the Qin Mansion and raised there.
At that time, Qin Chanyue was still young. With little of interest to play with in the mansion, she would often run to find him, her elder brother. Perhaps because he was new, she still held some curiosity toward him.
Back then, he had just lost all his family—his father was a soldier of the Qin Family Army, and his mother had died in the chaos of war, a fate almost identical to Liu Yandai’s.
Amidst the turmoil of war, there were many such children. Qin Jiangjun would take them in, raising them within the army. Boys were raised to become soldiers, while girls were given land to settle on, ensuring they would not be left without support. Because he was the son of a close aide, and his father had given his life for Qin Jiangjun, he was personally taken in by Qin Jiangjun and designated as his adopted son.
At that time, he was still reeling from the trauma, unable to accept the grief of losing his loved ones. Thus, he remained silent and withdrawn, drifting through each day without speaking to anyone, merely sitting in his room day after day, reading military texts.
He carried a deep-seated hatred toward Nanjiang, so he absorbed every ounce of strength, eager to grow, to join the Qin Family Army, and to sever the heads of the Nanjiang people.
The departure of his loved ones had taken his soul, leaving only hatred to sustain his hollow shell. Beneath his feet was a foul, stinking mire accumulated from resentment, engulfing him.
He was like a tree that had died many years ago, left in a swamp. Its core had long been hollowed out by insects, yet from the outside, it still stood upright. Outsiders thought it would sprout again come spring, but only he knew—he was dead, inside and out.
Back then, the vast Qin Mansion was filled with many people and many affairs. Few had time to spare for him; as long as he was fed and clothed, it was enough. Most grew accustomed to his silence and reticence, and he remained quietly dead, never reaching out to the outside world.
During his time of death, only Qin Chanyue would come to find him.
She was noisy and clamorous, wanting to talk at length with everyone. He was not adept at dealing with a young girl much younger than himself, so most of the time, he simply sat behind the desk reading. At first, Qin Chanyue was somewhat reserved around him, but gradually, she could no longer suppress her nature and would always talk to him.
He was a silent gourd, never speaking, but it didn’t bother her. She was quite talkative. Often, he would kneel behind the desk reading, while she lay on the low couch chatting. She had many amusing stories to tell—about which young master was kicked by his horse while riding, which family’s eldest daughter lost a fight over a hairpin to the second daughter, which family’s illegitimate son studied well and might one day become an official, and which families had arranged marriages.
When she spoke of “arranged marriages,” a faint blush rose on the young girl’s face. Cupping her cheeks in her hands, she murmured, “I want to find the best man in all of Chang’an.”
Back then, Chu Heng, still a youth, knelt behind the desk, his thin back held rigidly straight, a book in his hands. He still didn’t speak, but in his heart, he wondered: What kind of man is the best in all of Chang’an?
One who wields a brush to ascend the officialdom, or one who carries a spear to conquer Nanjiang? Should he have the face of a Water-Moon Guanyin, or should he be skilled in calligraphy and painting?
Among the countless men in this world, what kind did she truly like?
He didn’t know, so he waited for Qin Chanyue to say more. But oddly, Qin Chanyue fell silent.
He couldn’t bear it, feeling as if ants were crawling all over his body. A strange itch spread in his chest, and his fingers rubbed against the pages of the book. He didn’t dare look up, didn’t dare look at her, only stared fixedly at the book before him.
After a long while, he finally spoke up and asked, “What kind of man?”
The room fell into complete silence, without a single sound. Qin Chanyue didn’t speak; he could only hear the beating of his own heart.
Thump, thump—it pounded and crashed, as if trying to break open his chest and leap onto Qin Chanyue, to ask her: “What kind of man?”
She remained silent for too long, and Chu Heng finally turned to look at her.
At that moment, he was terrified of seeing a pair of clear, piercing eyes staring directly at him. He longed to see her, yet feared to see her.
But she wasn’t looking at him. After uttering those words, the carefree young girl had fallen asleep on the low couch, just as she was now—sprawled out, limbs askew, lying face down on the couch. The light from outside the window fell upon her, illuminating her brows and eyes with such radiance.
Standing before the low couch, watching her, he felt as if his dead tree had come back to life.
While others remained trapped in the mire, the branches had already bathed in her radiance. That warm aura enveloped him, allowing him to grit his teeth and persevere all the way to this point—from an obscure adopted son of the Qin family to the powerful Zhennan Wang who now held great authority.
He had crossed rugged lands and traversed bottomless swamps. The light snow of Chang’an blurred his eyes, while torrential rains and fierce winds soaked his boots. When an enemy’s blade slashed open his chest, he looked back and saw the bright lanterns of Chang’an and her eyes.
Pausing to look back, his original heart remained unchanged.
The Madam lying before him overlapped with the memory of that willful, spoiled little girl with rosy lips and pearly teeth, abruptly reminding him of the question he had asked her that year—the one she never heard.
Qin Chanyue, what kind of man is the finest gentleman in all of Chang’an?
The question that had troubled him for years surged forth once more, along with desires suppressed for so long. In the quiet of this summer day, they clamored uncontrollably, all rushing toward Qin Chanyue on the low couch.
Qin Chanyue remained deep in slumber, unaware that her Adoptive Brother had risen from his bed and approached her couch.
As if under some enchantment, he slowly extended a hand, reaching out as if to gently brush her hair, touch her fair, delicate cheek, and ask her: Why can it not be me?
Is it because I am coarse?
Is it because I am reticent?
He did not know.
His trembling hand drew closer to her, but just as he was about to touch her, the Madam on the low couch shifted her cheek slightly.
She was waking.
Chu Heng’s hand trembled, a trace of panic flickering across his firm, resolute face. All the greed from moments ago vanished without a trace, retreating deep into his heart, not daring to surface. He himself withdrew step by step, all the way back to his bed, where he lay down silently.
On the low couch, Qin Chanyue drowsily opened her eyes.
Upon waking, her mind was not entirely clear, uncertain of the time or day. The gentle afternoon sunlight filtered through the gauze window, casting patterned shadows on her face. Warmth enveloped her entire body. Turning her head, she could see her Adoptive Brother lying on his bed.
Such fine weather suddenly reminded her of the days before her marriage.
Before she married, she was the most celebrated Young Lady in all of Chang’an—cherished by her parents, from a prominent family, never yielding even in the presence of the princess of that time.
Memories of the past flashed through her mind, only to be pushed down by Qin Chanyue—her growth had been accompanied by many scars, and the pain of losing loved ones was something she preferred not to dwell on. She quickly pulled her thoughts back to many years later.
Many years later—
She slowly sat up, wondering: What was it like many years later? Her Adoptive Brother became Zhennan Wang, succeeding their father in guarding Nanjiang. She married a gentle and courteous husband, bore two sons, and later, the eldest son also married.
And then—
Qin Chanyue pinched the bridge of her nose, thinking: And then, none of those wretches shall live! She, Qin Chanyue, had plenty of strength and means!
She rose leisurely from the low couch, her fair ankles stepping into the Pearl Shoes. Standing up, she prepared to return to the Houfu to see what was happening.
Based on her understanding of her two sons, she could almost guess that something must have occurred within the mansion.
Before leaving, Qin Chanyue went to the bedside to take another look at her adoptive brother.
He was still lying quietly on the bed, no different from when she had fallen asleep. She lifted the blanket and carefully examined his body, even reaching out to touch the scab over his wound.
Her adoptive brother’s body was burning hot, and the scars were almost completely healed. With his constitution, he would recover fully within a day or two. If he still didn’t wake up by then, she would seek out some alchemists, Taoist priests, or monks to see if they could help.
In her previous life, she hadn’t believed in ghosts or gods. If such beings truly existed in this world, the deep obsessions of their tens of thousands of Qin Family Army soldiers should have long since elevated them to sainthood. Even in the underworld, they would have formed a mighty army. But she had never seen any such thing, so they likely didn’t exist.
However, since being reborn in this life, she had no choice but to believe. Not only had she spent large sums of money on incense and donations, she had even considered retreating into the mountains for quiet cultivation—if not for the chaos in the mansion that still needed sorting out, she would have already gone to kowtow a few times.
As she pondered these thoughts, her fingers unconsciously traced circles on her adoptive brother’s chest. Perhaps it was her imagination, but his body seemed to tense slightly.
Qin Chanyue lowered her head suspiciously to look.
Her adoptive brother was still lying there as usual, his bronze skin covered in scars, rough to the touch. She felt it again and decided it must have been her imagination.
He was still unconscious, showing no signs of waking.
After checking, Qin Chanyue pulled the blanket back over him and finally left the room.
When she departed, she didn’t send anyone to fetch Liu Yandai, instead leaving her trusted confidante, Nanny Li, to stay with Liu Yandai in the Prince of Southern Pacification’s Mansion and keep an eye on her.
Otherwise, Qin Chanyue truly couldn’t rest easy—although her adoptive brother held the noble title of Zhennan Wang and was formidable in military matters, he had no talent whatsoever for raising children. Boys were one thing; they could be tossed into the army and managed there. The military was a natural training ground—no matter what kind of boy you threw in, they would all be shaped into roughly the same form. Once they came out, donned armor, and were disciplined by military orders, they became proper men. But girls couldn’t be raised that way. Just look at what kind of temperament Liu Yandai had developed under his care!
Qin Chanyue fretted over this and could only leave someone to accompany Liu Yandai day and night. Otherwise, who knew when she might be bullied again.
As Qin Chanyue left, her mind was filled with all sorts of schemes, plotting this and that, completely unaware that after she departed, the man on the bed slowly opened his eyes.
He stared fixedly at the empty bedside where Qin Chanyue had been sitting, as if tracing the outline of her figure before she left.
After a long while, he slowly closed his eyes again.
When she was here, the entire room felt full. But once she left, it became empty, leaving one feeling bored and stifled, as if everything in the world had lost its flavor.
But it was fine—he was good at enduring such boredom.
——
After leaving the Prince of Southern Pacification’s Mansion, Qin Chanyue took a carriage back to the Zhongyi Hou Mansion.
She had just stepped out of the carriage at the Zhongyi Hou Mansion and crossed the threshold, walking no more than a hundred paces, when she saw Nanny Zhao approaching with a beaming face. Nanny Zhao took her arm and guided her back, cheerfully sharing a piece of great news: “Madam, the Marquis called for a doctor today to examine his health. It’s said he has recovered significantly and has now returned to Shangyue Garden, resting in your courtyard and waiting for you to return. It seems he must have missed you these past few days without being close to you.”
“Oh, right!” Nanny Zhao thought for a moment and added, “That mother and son at Qiufeng Hall have been causing quite a stir lately, and the Marquis can’t even be bothered to look at them anymore. I suppose he’s grown tired of their antics!”
Nanny Zhao truly believed this was good news.
First, the Marquis had recovered from his illness and would not die. From now on, their Houfu would still have a man to hold up the pillar, and they would be looked upon with greater respect when stepping outside.
Second, the Marquis no longer favored that mother and son, which was even better—it meant he could live harmoniously with their Madam! Wasn’t this a great joy?
Just look, Madam had been conducting herself with such propriety lately—who wouldn’t praise her for her virtue? In the end, the Marquis had come to his senses. What women in this world sought was nothing more than harmony, wasn’t it?
As she pondered, Nanny Zhao held Qin Chanyue’s arm and said with a smile, “When the Shizi ascends to his position in the future, if Madam still can’t stand the sight of that mother and son, you can simply find an excuse to send them away. After all, the rear courtyard of this Houfu will still be under Madam’s control.”
Qin Chanyue walked alongside, listening with an indifferent expression.
She disliked Nanny Zhao’s words, but she knew Nanny Zhao wasn’t intentionally trying to upset her. It was just that Nanny Zhao, like Liu Yandai, had learned such rules, deeply ingrained in her bones and impossible to wash away. In Dachen, it had always been Fu Wei Qi Gang—a husband’s word could cost a wife half her life. Serving one’s husband and managing household affairs were a wife’s duties.
These words made Qin Chanyue sick to her stomach.
She had always cherished cleanliness and pride, refusing to settle for anything less than perfection. If she couldn’t find a man who would have only her for a lifetime, she would rather not marry at all. In her eyes, Zhou Ziheng was already a walking corpse, festering from head to toe—the mere sight of him disgusted her, let alone the thought of lying intimately with him in the same bed again.
Women like Qin Chanyue, who refused to compromise, were exceedingly proud, and insisted on standing above men, were rare. Moreover, the world was unkind to women. Clearly, they had once made solemn vows to each other, swearing never to betray one another. Yet when the Zhongyi Marquis broke his oath, the world saw nothing wrong with it. Instead, they thought she was making a fuss over a mere promise. No matter how many wrongs the Zhongyi Marquis had done to her, as long as he was willing to turn back to her now, others would see it as “repentance, truly rare.”
Men, especially those with power, influence, and status—no matter how many mistakes they made, as long as they were willing to turn back, admit their faults, and offer a seemingly sincere apology—they were considered “good men.” After all, what man didn’t make mistakes? Wasn’t this better than those who lingered in brothels, indulged in gambling dens, and wreaked havoc in Da Sha Sifang?
As for women, they are born to listen to this and that—enduring the torment of their Pomu, nodding when their husband takes concubines, and worrying over every matter in the household. Otherwise, they are deemed disrespectful and irreverent. So even though she was the daughter of a great general, even though her adoptive brother was Zhennan Wang, even though she was the one who had been wronged, she remained trapped within this framework. She could not show any sign of disgust toward Zhongyi Marquis—at least, not now. No matter how repulsed she felt, she had to endure it.
She would endure until these people turned on each other, and she could reap the rewards.
Thinking of Concubine Fang’s grief these past few days, Qin Chanyue believed that day was not far off.
Nanny Zhao, unaware of what she was still pondering, continued speaking about Zhongyi Marquis.
Qin Chanyue’s stunning face betrayed no emotion as she calmly replied, “These past few days, Zhennan Wang has been gravely ill. I must go to Fota to pray for his recovery and may not be able to attend to the Marquis. Once the Marquis has recovered in a few days, I will go to see him then.”
Nanny Zhao could only nod in agreement. Without even returning to Shangyue Garden, Qin Chanyue headed directly for Fota. Along the way, she asked, “What other matters have occurred in the household?”
As she walked toward Fota, Nanny Zhao shifted the topic and continued reporting the day’s events within the household.
“Today, after Madam left, the Second Young Master went back and inquired about some matters from a few servants, eventually asking about [that incident] that happened before yesterday’s front hall affair.”
At that moment, they were walking near a gravel path by the Baoping Gate, not far from lush vegetation. Amidst the swaying flowers and trees, Nanny Zhao lowered her voice: “Upon learning of [that incident], the Second Young Master went to the Shizi’s Shuhai Courtyard, beat the Shizi severely, and then left. No one knows where he went. The Shizi didn’t make a fuss about it either, simply swallowing this hidden grievance.”
Upon hearing the whole story, Qin Chanyue curled her lips in a mocking smile.
Where else could he have gone? Zhou Chiye’s heart and eyes were now entirely filled with Bai Yuning—he must have gone to find her.
And Zhou Yuanting, knowing he was in the wrong, wouldn’t make a scene.
As they spoke, they had already arrived in front of the Fota.
The Fota was extremely tall, with three floors. Its exterior featured upturned eaves resembling dragon claws, while inside, oval-shaped niches were carved along the walls, each holding various Buddha statues. Upon entering the Fota, the innermost area housed the ancestral tablets of Qin Chanyue’s elders. These were her ancestors, each a general who had rendered outstanding service in Dachen. Having died on the battlefield, their spirits were too fierce to pass on peacefully, requiring daily offerings.
In the past, Qin Chanyue would come to stay here for a few days each month, so one of the Guest Wing Rooms beside the Fota was specifically reserved for her. It was cleaned daily, ready for her to move in at any time.
Incense burned year-round in the Fota, and in places where the incense was most abundant, a unique temple sandalwood fragrance lingered in the air, settling on people and bringing a sense of tranquility and Zen.
When the news of Qin Chanyue resting in the wing room reached Shangyue Garden, Zhongyi Marquis Zhou Ziheng was painting in the pavilion.
His health had been improving steadily these days, and he now appeared no different from an ordinary person. It was nice for him to come out for a stroll.
He had originally been waiting for Qin Chanyue in the pavilion, but as he waited, she went to pray for blessings and didn’t come. Zhou Ziheng felt a momentary disappointment and even considered getting up to go to the Fota himself to pray alongside her.
It seemed like it had been a long time since he had spoken with Qin Chanyue.
But just as Zhou Ziheng was leaving Shangyue Garden, he unexpectedly encountered Concubine Fang.
Concubine Fang’s hair was disheveled, and her clothes were stained with dust, as if she had rolled around in a stove. She was wandering dazedly along the gravel path, followed by maidservants attending to her.
For the past few days, she had made herself look neither human nor ghost, pestering Zhou Ziheng daily with claims that “our son was harmed.” Zhou Ziheng found it utterly repulsive. Spotting her from afar, he asked a nearby maid, “What is going on here?”
The maid replied, “Reporting to the Marquis, Concubine Fang bought a folk remedy from a rural doctor, saying she needed to dig soil from the four directions—east, west, south, and north—to brew medicine. Concubine Fang is personally preparing medicine for the Third Young Master.”
Zhou Ziheng felt deeply embarrassed.
After Zhou Wenshan injured his waist, he had sought out renowned physicians, but none could cure him. It was clear that the injury was truly incurable. Yet, Fang Qingqing refused to believe it, repeatedly causing such disgraceful scenes!
He immediately lost all desire to approach her, knowing that if Fang Qingqing saw him, she would rush forward and chatter endlessly. He was annoyed and unwilling to listen to her hysterical cries again, so he simply turned back and returned to Shangyue Garden.
Having turned back halfway, he was in no mood to seek out Qin Chanyue. Instead, he sat alone in the side chamber, drinking.
It was already the end of Shen Hour, the beginning of You Hour (5-7 PM), with faint streaks of colored clouds hanging on the horizon. Zhou Ziheng, feeling displeased, drank some wine and gradually grew tipsy.
During this time, a serving maid came to refill his wine. Whether intentionally or not, her hand trembled as she moved, spilling wine onto Zhou Ziheng’s robe.
Zhou Ziheng frowned and scolded her. The maid knelt down, raised her face, revealing a charming and lovely round countenance. As she knelt and kowtowed, she subtly edged closer to Zhou Ziheng’s knees, softening her voice as she said, “This servant knows her mistake. I beg the Marquis not to punish me.”
Her chin had already brushed against Zhou Ziheng’s knee, the softness of her cheek bringing a warm sensation through the thin gauze of his robe, touching Zhou Ziheng’s skin.
Zhou Ziheng narrowed his eyes and looked at her, immediately discerning her intentions.
This little maid wanted to climb up to him.
There were many maids in the Houfu, each one a fresh-faced girl of fifteen or sixteen. Most came from poor families, sold into the Houfu from a young age. They received monthly wages, and when they grew older, they could ask their masters to release their indentures, allowing them to leave and marry. Alternatively, they could marry the Butler within the household and stay on as wet nurses or matrons—most masters of respectable families would not stubbornly hold onto a maid’s indenture.
Of course, if the master wished, he could take them as concubines at any time.
They were, after all, slaves sold into servitude. Becoming a concubine in a noble household was considered a stroke of fortune, elevating them to the status of a mistress. If they could bear a child, their later years would be filled with glory.
In the past, Qin Chanyue had kept a tight rein on such matters, and the maids were all afraid of being beaten to death by her, so none dared to approach. But recently, Qin Chanyue had paid no attention to these affairs, and with Concubine Fang already having entered the household, these maids began to entertain ambitions again, timidly offering themselves before Zhou Ziheng’s knees.
In the past, Zhou Ziheng would have kicked her away without hesitation, fearing to anger Qin Chanyue. But lately, Qin Chanyue had become much more indulgent toward him, emboldening him further.
A person’s appetite never shrinks. With one indulgence, the next demand would inevitably be greater.
Like an animal that has tasted meat, even if it appears to eat vegetables on the surface, it would still sneak a taste of meat in secret.
Since he could have one Concubine Fang, why not a second? Qin Chanyue was good, but this maid seemed younger, more tender.
So he said nothing, merely staring fixedly at the maid as she climbed higher and higher, finally reaching his waist.
The wine pot on the table swayed unsteadily before finally falling to the ground with a “clatter.” Those outside the side chamber could not hear this faint sound, while inside, early spring had arrived.
That night, the spring scenery was at its peak.
—
This night seemed like an ordinary summer evening.
Zhou Chiye had gone out in search of Bai Yuning and had not returned all night. Zhou Yuanting was still lying in bed recovering from his injuries. Liu Yandai was sleeping soundly in the Prince of Southern Pacification’s Mansion. Qin Chanyue was praying for her Adoptive Brother beneath the Fota at the Houfu. Zhennan Wang met privately with the Crown Prince to discuss how to proceed with future matters.
The bright moon hung high in the night sky, quietly observing the unfolding chapters of each person’s life.
Every stroke in the story is drawn step by step by people themselves. This vast Chang’an is like a grand script, and everyone believes they are the protagonist.
——
The next day, early morning.
The news that the Marquis had favored a young maid spread throughout the entire Houfu through the mouths of the maids delivering water in the morning.
This news first reached Fota and was delivered to Qin Chanyue’s ears. Yet, this Madam merely paused her hand while dining, then casually uttered an “Mm,” showing not the slightest trace of anger.
Later, the news reached Qiufeng Hall and made its way into Concubine Fang’s courtyard.
At that time, Concubine Fang was feeding medicine to her son. Upon hearing the news, she was momentarily dazed, finding it hard to believe.
“How could this be?” She looked at the maid who had come to deliver the news, a stiff smile forcing its way onto her sallow face. With a hoarse voice, she laughed and said, “How could this be? Our son is still gravely ill. How could he seek out another woman? You must have heard wrong. He loves me the most. He said he would only love me!”
The little maid stood there, speechless.
And Concubine Fang had already pushed past the maid, stumbling and staggering as she ran toward Shangyue Garden.