Chapter 2

I thought they meant it.

Then I passed around a corner and heard their lowered voices.

“Miss Wanrou is the accomplished one. Music, chess, poetry, painting—she excels at everything. And she's so gentle with people. Not like this one. Can't recognize a character the size of a bucket, yet she gets to be the marquis's daughter.”

Another sneered.

“Exactly. She knows less about manners and the world than we do.”

I stood behind the wall, gripping my sleeve, and waited until they had gone before daring to step out.

Later, Mother had a matron bring me a box of skin cream.

I was holding it, about to thank her, when the matron asked softly, “Madam, has Miss Wanrou received hers?”

“I sent her the Jadeite Cream long ago. Even the Noble Consort might not be able to obtain a box. How could I have got it if my cousin, the empress, hadn't remembered me?”

“Only Wan'er knows how to use something so rare properly. It's best given to her.”

I looked down at my own box and still put it away carefully.

Mother didn't mistreat me.

I lacked nothing in food, clothes, or daily necessities.

The servants called me miss and bowed respectfully.

Yet something seemed lodged in my chest. I could neither swallow it nor spit it out.

I had never been to school. I couldn't name that discomfort.

I only dimly felt that the residence had everything, and I could receive a share.

But the best share had never been mine.

Seeing me remain silent, Mother gradually frowned.

Perhaps she thought I was still sulking over Jingzhao and Lin Wanrou.

She sighed, a little impatience entering her voice.

“The man you're meeting is Jingzhao's younger brother. He's your age. He's spent these years guarding the frontier, which delayed his marriage. He has neither a wife nor concubines.”

“He happens to be back in the capital. If you marry him, you'll still be a daughter-in-law of the ducal household. Your future won't be bad.”

I opened my mouth.

I wanted to say I wasn't pining for Jingzhao and didn't want to marry so quickly.

But she had already arranged everything—even decided for me whether my future would be good.

When I didn't immediately agree, her disappointment deepened.

“He'er, I've done everything I can for you. You should be more sensible. Don't always make things difficult for me.”

She left, displeased.

I sat alone with the cream still in my arms.

From beginning to end, she had never asked whether I was willing.

3

I met the general she had mentioned.

Pei Jingxing was as handsome as his elder brother.

Years of war had left his shoulders straight and his expression stern.

He never smiled. He probably didn't like me either.

He didn't bother hiding it.

As soon as he sat, he said frankly, “I already love someone. I agreed to marry you only to spare her future trouble.”

For once, I understood quickly.

“The person you love is Wanrou?”

His throat moved. His gaze was oppressively cold.

He didn't answer.

I understood.

“I can marry you, give you the position of lawful wife and a lifetime of wealth. But you must never resent her or harm her. If I find that you have, I won't be merciful.”

Every word was heavy and absolute.

The duke's younger son was willing to sacrifice his marriage merely to keep me from troubling his sister-in-law.

Everyone in the capital planned on Lin Wanrou's behalf.

This general would even give his whole life to keep trouble from her door.

But I too held someone in my heart.

At eighteen, he had been conscripted and sent to the frontier.

He never came back.

He was dead.

In my heart, I had already married him once.

I looked Pei Jingxing up and down, then smiled.

“General, you needn't wrong yourself so greatly for me. You keep saying you're willing. You haven't asked whether I am.”

“You have someone you can't let go of. So do I. You may sacrifice your lifelong happiness for the person you love. I won't.”

He paused.

“I don't intend to resent anyone,” I continued. “If you're so sure I'll do something wicked that you must use this marriage to stop me, help me find where a soldier named Zhou An was buried instead. If his resting place can still be found, I'd like to build him a grave.”

4

There was no room for misunderstanding.

Yet Pei Jingxing still didn't believe me. He thought I was playing hard to get.

His eyes remained contemptuous.

I couldn't be bothered with him either.

Laughter rang through the front hall when I returned.

Inside, I found Lin Wanrou visiting with her twins.

She chatted and laughed with Mother. The fair, adorable children crowded around Mother's knees, wheedling for attention.

Her expression stiffened when she saw me.

But she quickly took my hand warmly, talked with me about family matters, and had the children call me Auntie.

She mentioned the Moonlight Brocade Mother had given her.

“It really is comfortable against the skin. I made a dress and a little jacket for each child. Thank you for thinking of me.”

Mother beamed.

“It's rare. The empress gave me a length because He'er had returned and, as her aunt, she wanted to give her a welcoming gift. But I thought you needed it more while pregnant. Even if He'er wore it, she couldn't bring out its elegance.”

She spoke as though this were perfectly natural.

Lin Wanrou's smile gradually faded. The hall fell silent.

Only then did Mother realize her mistake. She hurriedly glanced at me.

Lin Wanrou apologized repeatedly, then hastily took the children away.

My brother returned, puzzled.

“I just met Wan'er. Her eyes were still wet. Who upset her?”

His searching gaze landed directly on me.

Mother had to explain what had happened.

His expression softened a little.

“Mother isn't wrong. Moonlight Brocade on He'er really wouldn't show Aunt Empress's thoughtfulness to advantage.”

That evening, apparently remembering the awkwardness, he brought me a brocade outfit.

He advised me gently.

“He'er, Mother and Wan'er have been mother and daughter for twenty years. Those feelings can't fade overnight.”

Of course I understood.

Besides accepting it, what else could I do?

Love was the one thing no one could force.

Ironically, that very night, Lin Wanrou sent the long Moonlight Brocade dress and both children's jackets to my courtyard.

The accompanying matron said, “Our young mistress feels terribly guilty. She says she's already taken twenty years from Miss He'er. She can't keep owing you more.”

Before I could refuse, she hurried away.

The commotion alerted my brother.

Seeing the brocade on the table, his expression darkened.

“Are you so greedy that you want everything you see? Was the compensation not enough? Must you force Wan'er to return clothes she's already had made before you're satisfied?”

“She sent them herself,” I explained. “I never asked.”

“Still making excuses?” His words grew harsher. “Wan'er is sensitive. If you hadn't deliberately looked wounded in front of her, why would she do this? A country girl really has no manners!”

He snatched back the outfit he had just given me.

A few cuts with the scissors left scraps and tangled thread across the floor.

Then he turned and left without another look.

His retreating figure was cold and final beneath the moon.

Soon, everyone in the residence knew the newly recovered daughter was insatiably greedy.

She had forced Miss Wanrou to give up her favorite clothes, making the eldest young master come and reprimand her himself.

Father and Mother quickly heard the story.

At first, I kept looking toward the courtyard gate, thinking Mother might come and ask.

Even if she didn't believe me, she should at least hear what I had to say.

But from lamplighting until deep into the night, the gate remained silent.

No one came.

The maids lowered their heads and gathered the scraps.

Their movements were light. None dared look at me. None dared speak for me.

The night wind carried osmanthus into the courtyard.

I stood alone before the empty steps and watched the last thread from the ruined clothes swept away.

Only then did I understand.

My brother had cut more than a set of clothes.

He had severed my last small hope in this family.

5

The next day, perhaps feeling guilty, Mother sighed over the meal and offered to take me shopping.

She took me to have new clothes made.

Everyone knew it was compensation.

After the measurements and fabric selection, a commotion broke out.

A maddened horse had escaped its reins and charged down the street, overturning stalls.

Ahead of it, a child sat crying on the ground, not knowing to move.

I had no time to think.

I stepped onto a roadside bench, leaped onto the horse's back, and pulled the reins with all my strength.

At last, I stopped it before its hooves reached the child.

Only after dismounting did I see someone hurrying up behind us.

Pei Jingxing.

“You can ride too?” he asked in astonishment.

I handed him the reins and nodded.

After my adoptive parents died, I had worked at a riding ground in Qingzhou. The kind owner taught me.

He watched me for a long time.

Sunlight shone from behind him, obscuring his face but not his bright eyes.

Suddenly, he gave a quiet laugh.

After that, he began to see me differently.

That night, he personally brought gifts to thank me for stopping the frightened horse.

It had come from his camp. Had it killed someone, he couldn't have escaped responsibility.

Mother was delighted when she heard.

She began to show me a little more care.

She sat in my courtyard for a while and ordered more clothes, saying they were for next month's banquet.