After the New Year, things seemed to settle on the surface. Jiang Quan's verdict had been handed down—execution by beheading. In truth, wealthy families often had their share of dirty laundry, and with a bit of cover-up, the usual outcome was losing one's official position and reputation. Losing one's life was a rather severe consequence, but when people considered who the victim had been, they understood perfectly. Of all people to harm, he had to target the young lady of the General's Residence. Zhao Guang had applied considerable pressure on the judge in this case, and the final verdict had even been reviewed by the Emperor himself. When a wall begins to collapse, everyone pushes it; when a tree falls, the monkeys scatter. Those who had once curried favor with Jiang Quan now couldn't distance themselves fast enough, and naturally, no one spoke up for him.
On the day of Jiang Quan's execution, Jiang Ruan did not attend. Lianqiao didn't dare ask too much, thinking that after all, he was Jiang Ruan's birth father. No matter how harshly she spoke in daily life, sending one's own father to the execution ground was an entirely different matter. She assumed Jiang Ruan must be deeply grieved. Seeing Lianqiao's cautious demeanor, Jiang Ruan found it somewhat amusing. In her past life, she and Jiang Quan had been mortal enemies, and this life was no different. One of them had to die by the other's hand—blood ties and familial affection meant nothing. As Jiang Xin Zhi had told her that day, from now on, she had no connection to the Jiang family.
Mentioning this reminded Lianqiao of something. "Young Madam," she said, "the young master has already spoken to the General's Residence. Madam's memorial tablet will soon be moved to the ancestral hall there, and her name has been removed from the Jiang family register. From now on, the Jiang clan won't be able to use this matter against you."
Jiang Ruan sending her own father to the execution ground should have stirred up quite a storm in the capital. Human nature being what it is, people love to gossip and pontificate as if they were wise judges of the world. Yet, for days after Jiang Quan's execution, not a single word criticizing Jiang Ruan's lack of filial piety could be heard in the streets. This was because Xiao Shao had employed special measures to silence the gossip. Whether through iron-fisted methods or silver and gold, the underlying message was clear—he would not tolerate a single bad word about Jiang Ruan.
"That's good," Jiang Ruan set down her brush. "We'll visit the General's Residence soon. Enshrining the tablet is an important matter." Zhao Mei's memorial tablet had remained in the Jiang family's ancestral hall all this time. When Jiang Ruan had been sent to the manor and returned years later, no one had tended to it, leaving it covered in dust. If she hadn't personally cleaned it later, it might have rotted away in that hall. Now that none of the three of them—mother and children—were part of the Jiang family anymore, the tablet should rightfully return to the General's Residence. Jiang Ruan glanced outside and asked, "Where's Luzhu?"
These past few days, she had been writing out preparations for Luzhu's wedding. To Jiang Ruan, Luzhu was someone she had trusted since her rebirth—less a maid and more a steadfast companion. Though Luzhu had no parents, they couldn't rush the wedding carelessly, lest she feel disadvantaged later. While they couldn't make it grand, they would follow the proper customs for a young lady from a respectable family.
"Probably in her room embroidering her dowry," Lianqiao laughed. "Young Madam treats Luzhu so well, even I feel a little jealous."In other households, when a personal maid was married off with dignity, it usually just meant a bit more silver was given. It was rare to see someone personally arranging things with such care and effort. Moreover, Luzhu was marrying well—Jin Er might be a bit mischievous, but his heart was in the right place. What was even rarer was that the two were genuinely in love. For a servant, marrying someone they loved was almost an impossible dream. Yet now it had come true. Lianqiao thought back to the days when they had struggled on the estate, when even a peaceful life had seemed like a luxury. Looking at their good fortune now, she couldn’t help but feel deeply moved.
“When you marry Ye Feng in the future, I’ll arrange it for you too,” Jiang Ruan said with a smile.
Lianqiao stomped her foot. “Young Madam is teasing me again!” Though she feigned annoyance, seeing Jiang Ruan laugh made her happy too. For some reason, she felt Jiang Ruan had changed a lot recently. She couldn’t quite pinpoint how, but there was a softer quality to her gaze now, unlike before when it had seemed veiled in mist, making people inexplicably uneasy. This was probably Xiao Shao’s doing, Lianqiao thought, feeling a surge of gratitude toward him.
“Go check if Luzhu is in her room,” Jiang Ruan said. “If she is, bring her here. She ought to look over this dowry list herself.”
Lianqiao agreed and hurried out. Luzhu was indeed in her room, though she wasn’t working on her own wedding embroidery. Instead, she was embroidering a screen for the wife of Chief Secretary Lin, whose birthday was in a few days. Jiang Ruan was close with Lin Zixiang and wanted to send a gift. Chief Secretary Lin was a refined man, and a screen of pine and cranes would be perfect. However, while the design looked simple, the embroidery was intricate. Double-sided stitching happened to be Luzhu’s specialty, so she had been working on it in her room, losing track of time.
When Lianqiao pushed the door open, she scolded, “How can you still be here? Young Madam wants you to look over the dowry list.”
“Ah, I wanted to finish this crane’s beak first. There isn’t much time, and if there are any mistakes, I can still fix them,” Luzhu replied with a smile. “What’s there to see about the dowry list? Young Madam’s taste is impeccable—I trust her completely.”
Lianqiao laughed and chided, “Nonsense! Are you trying to boss your mistress around now? Hurry up! I don’t know how you’re managing as a bride-to-be, not even worrying about your own dowry. You’re getting lazier by the day.”
Knowing she was in the wrong, Luzhu put away her needle, stood up, smoothed her skirt, and followed Lianqiao. Jiang Ruan had just added a few more items to the list and handed it over when they arrived. “See if anything’s missing.”
Luzhu took it with a grin and skimmed through it quickly. At first, her expression was cheerful, then it turned to surprise, and finally, she looked almost alarmed. “Young Madam, this—this is too extravagant.”
“What’s there to fear?” Jiang Ruan smiled. “It’s all coming from the prince’s residence anyway. Your prince has plenty of money.”
Lianqiao burst out laughing—the way she said it made Xiao Shao sound like some nouveau riche tycoon. Luzhu’s eyes darted around, and though her expression softened, she still seemed uneasy. “But…” The items on the list were far too lavish for a maid. Even the most senior maids serving high-ranking nobles might not receive such honors. What moved her the most, however, wasn’t just the gold and silver but the thoughtful inclusion of dowry accessories and other small necessities. This was true care."There are no 'buts'," Jiang Ruan interrupted her. "You deserve it."
Luzhu fell silent, biting her lip before slowly kneeling down. Both Lianqiao and Jiang Ruan were taken aback as Luzhu solemnly kowtowed three times to Jiang Ruan, saying, "Young Miss has shown Luzhu boundless kindness. Luzhu has no family—Young Miss is the only family in Luzhu’s heart. Luzhu will serve Young Miss faithfully all her life and stay by your side forever."
Jiang Ruan chuckled. "Get up. There’s no need to kneel at every turn. Don’t speak of boundless kindness—we’ve endured the hardest times together. You suffered through those days, and now it’s your turn to enjoy happiness. Besides, this isn’t such a grand matter. What truly matters is that you live well in the days to come."
Her words alluded to Jin Er, and Luzhu seemed to realize this, her lips curling into a shy smile.
Meanwhile, Jin Er, the very subject of their conversation, stood before a residence in an alleyway of the eastern city. He knocked several times, and soon a servant opened the door. After exchanging a few words with Jin Er, the servant hurried inside. As Jin Er stepped into the courtyard, the door to the main house swung open, revealing a plump middle-aged woman. At the sight of Jin Er, she froze momentarily before exclaiming joyfully, "Second Young Master!"
Jin Er smiled. "Zhou Mama, what brings you to the capital so suddenly?"
"This old servant was sent by the Madam to arrange a meeting for you," Granny Zhou replied with a smile. From behind her emerged a young woman—strikingly beautiful and poised, though her dress was outdated and slightly faded. Despite this, she carried herself with grace and greeted Jin Er warmly. "Second Young Master."
...
Night fell swiftly, and a cold wind rattled the windows outside. The Jingyang Palace lay in silence, broken only by occasional muffled coughs. Eunuch Li handed over a white handkerchief, his voice laced with concern. "The night is chilly and damp, Your Majesty. You should rest early."
"There are still many memorials to review," the Emperor waved him off. "At this rate, I might not finish them all before—"
"Your Majesty mustn’t say such things!" Eunuch Li immediately dropped to his knees.
"Enough," the Emperor chuckled wearily. "I haven’t even finished my sentence—why are you kneeling?" Illness had drained his once-imposing demeanor, softening his features and leaving behind an air of frailty, as though his former majesty had faded overnight. Eunuch Li’s heart clenched at the sight, struck by how closely the Emperor now resembled the late sovereign in his final days. Back then, he had been a young eunuch, and his mentor had followed the late Emperor into the afterlife. Could history be repeating itself? A shiver ran down his spine, and he dared not dwell on the thought.
"Leave me. I wish to be alone," the Emperor said abruptly.
Eunuch Li bowed hastily and withdrew.
The vast hall was now empty save for the solitary figure in golden robes seated upon the central throne. The Emperor’s hand rested on the armrest, carved into the likeness of a roaring dragon—its scales lifelike, its claws bared. A dragon’s reverse scale, once touched, meant death. The Emperor smiled faintly, then reached for a roll of golden silk on the nearby desk—an Imperial Edict.He pondered for a moment before picking up the brush to write. The Emperor's strokes were slow, as if each character required great effort, yet there wasn't the slightest pause—clearly, the contents of this Imperial Edict had been contemplated countless times in his mind before being written with such deliberation. After a while, he picked up another sheet of bright yellow silk, preparing another edict. He paused briefly before continuing to write slowly.
The flickering candlelight danced across the Emperor's face, illuminating his sickly pale complexion with an unnatural brightness, like the last glow of a dying man. For a moment, it made him appear vigorous, as if he had returned to his youthful days. Finally, this edict was also completed. Slowly raising his hand, he took the imperial seal and pressed it onto the first edict. Lifting it again as if to catch his breath, his fingers unconsciously caressed the dragon head carved on the seal, his gaze momentarily growing distant. He began humming a rustic folk tune from who-knows-where.
"In the second month, spring winds rise, young brother heads to Shuwan Town, oh dear, whose wife calls for Qiusheng, wandering round wanting to come home..." The sudden emergence of such a countryside melody in this magnificent hall was rather jarring, yet the Emperor's expression gradually relaxed. He sang slowly, staring at the empty hall before him, as if seeing through the void to that year when a charming young girl walked along a rural path carrying a medicine chest. As he sang, he suddenly broke into violent coughs. The song stopped abruptly as he stared blankly at the bloodstains on the white silk.
Moments later, the Emperor slowly closed his eyes and pressed the imperial seal heavily onto the second edict: Thud—
...
When Jin Er returned to the estate, it was already dark. Just as he stepped into the courtyard, he noticed someone standing beneath a tree. That person spotted him too and came skipping over—it was Luzhu. Seeing him, Luzhu said, "You weren't around at noon—were you out on a mission?"
Jin Er was momentarily taken aback before instinctively nodding. "Mhm."
"Don't tell me you went to the brothel to see their top courtesan again?" Luzhu teased deliberately.
Caught off guard by the question, Jin Er's expression turned awkward. "No..."
"Just joking," Luzhu waved her hand. "Why so nervous? I'm not some tigress."
Her self-comparison to a tigress made Jin Er chuckle despite himself. He patted her head. "You certainly are a tigress." After a pause, he asked, "You came here specifically to wait for me—what's the matter?"
Seeing him smile, Luzhu didn't bicker with him as usual. She simply said, "You seem different today—probably tired. Go wash up and rest first. It's nothing important, I just came to see you." The words "missed you" were swallowed back. Lianqiao and Jin San had said women ought to be more reserved—if all one's feelings were laid bare, men would take advantage in the future. Since she and Jin Er weren't married yet, she shouldn't give him the satisfaction.Jin Er smiled but, unlike his usual self, didn’t tease or joke around. After simply telling Luzhu to rest well, he left. Once he was gone, the smile faded from Luzhu’s face, replaced by a look of confusion. Standing where she was, she muttered to herself, “He seemed rather down. Could it be… Did the mission go wrong?” After some thought yielded no answers, she turned and went back inside.
……
Jiang Ruan set aside the book she was reading and casually slipped her hand onto Xiao Shao’s chest. His body, unlike his cold exterior, was like a furnace. Her hands were warm, but Xiao Shao, caught off guard by the sudden chill of her fingers, found himself both amused and exasperated. Unable to bring himself to push her away, he only said, “Why are your hands so cold?”
“I was drafting the betrothal list for Luzhu,” Jiang Ruan replied, pressing closer to him. “Who knew getting married could be so complicated? Back when it was just the two of us, Butler Lin handled everything—he really went through a lot.” Even a simple wedding like Luzhu’s involved so many intricate details. Back then, her and Xiao Shao’s wedding had drawn crowds, with dazzling displays that seemed effortless to watch but were painstaking to arrange.
Xiao Shao looked at her for a long moment before suddenly saying, “I had a hand in it too.”
“What?” Jiang Ruan didn’t understand, but Xiao Shao merely replied, “Never mind,” his expression slightly awkward. After a moment’s thought, Jiang Ruan guessed, “Don’t tell me you were the one behind all those elaborate arrangements?”
Xiao Shao didn’t answer, which was as good as confirmation. Jiang Ruan was stunned. He had seemed so indifferent to the wedding preparations—who knew he’d secretly taken an interest in such trivial matters? She had no idea that while Butler Lin had overseen the main arrangements, every single detail had been personally reviewed by Xiao Shao. In fact, he had modeled their wedding after the most extravagant ceremonies held during the late emperor’s reign. Otherwise, Butler Lin alone would never have dared to spend so lavishly without a word.
Jiang Ruan burst into laughter, and Xiao Shao, slightly annoyed, shot her a look. “You’re taking this as seriously as if you were marrying off your own daughter.”
Since her rebirth, apart from seeking revenge, Jiang Ruan had never thrown herself into something like this. It was a first for her. Xiao Shao’s words almost sounded jealous—she had been so busy consulting Butler Lin about Luzhu’s affairs that she’d neglected him. Realizing this, she pinched his cheek and said, “If I had a daughter, I’d be even more meticulous. And don’t act like you wouldn’t be more nervous than me.”
“A daughter?” Xiao Shao gave her a thoughtful look, his dark eyes deep as the night sky. Under his gaze, Jiang Ruan felt a shiver run through her. “What?” she asked.
No sooner had the word left her lips than the world spun around her, and she found herself pinned beneath Xiao Shao. He looked down at her and said calmly, “True. But first, we’d need to have a daughter.”
……At the residence of the Eighth Prince, the advisor watched Xuan Li drinking and enjoying himself with some confusion. It had been a long time since he had seen Xuan Li so genuinely happy. Although Xuan Li habitually wore a smile year-round, those close to him knew it was merely a facade. Such heartfelt delight had truly been absent from their master's expression for quite some time.
The advisor cautiously asked, "Your Highness seems so pleased—has an agreement been reached with that Yuan Chuan regarding the grand plan?"
The envoy from the Celestial Jin Kingdom was mysterious and peculiar in his actions. Though ostensibly a diplomat, his demeanor lacked any trace of subservience, even exuding a natural air of superiority. Having spent his life by Xuan Li's side, the advisor had encountered many people and could tell at a glance that Yuan Chuan was not someone easily controlled. Allying with such a person was an exceedingly dangerous affair; one misstep could lead to ruin. Moreover, Yuan Chuan sought neither fame nor profit, which made him all the more alarming. Undoubtedly, the two were using each other—Xuan Li leveraging Yuan Chuan to seize power, but what was Yuan Chuan seeking to gain from Xuan Li?
The advisor couldn't fathom it and could only turn to Xuan Li for answers.
"No, there's no need for any grand agreement," Xuan Li replied slowly, raising his wine cup for a sip before smiling. "There is no alliance—only a blade to be wielded for my purposes. And what a fine blade it is."
"This..." The advisor suddenly realized something and exclaimed in surprise, "How does Your Highness intend to wield this blade?"
"The wielder is neither you nor I," Xuan Li said. "But the tree it fells stands in my way."
This was clearly about reaping the spoils without lifting a finger. Though still somewhat puzzled, the advisor could see Xuan Li had no intention of explaining further. The Eighth Prince, despite having countless retainers and advisors, often had his own unique ideas on many matters and did not fully trust them. He always left room for maneuver—a rare trait in this world. To remain eternally vigilant and unshaken by external influences was the mark of an emperor.
"Does Your Highness believe this will succeed?" the advisor asked. "That Yuan Chuan has done nothing tangible from start to finish. How can Your Highness be certain based solely on his words?"
"As I said, it's a fine blade," Xuan Li replied with a smile, draining his cup. "I merely hope it will be put to good use."
Just then, a guard hurried in and presented a letter. "Your Highness, a secret missive from the palace."
Xuan Li took it and glanced at it indifferently. It bore only two simple words: Mission accomplished.
Xuan Li smiled again, but this time, the advisor saw something different in that smile—beyond the earlier joy, there was a hint of ruthlessness. The expression vanished as quickly as it had appeared, as if it had never crossed Xuan Li's face. He sighed softly and murmured, "The Emperor... has fallen gravely ill."
...
That night, in a certain mansion within the capital, a young woman stood beneath a tree, her expression filled with sorrow. A plump matron beside her urged, "Young mistress, you should rest early. The wind is strong here. You must recover your health while staying here."
The woman let out a bitter laugh, her voice desolate. "Nanny, my heart aches.""Don't overthink it, miss," the woman also said. "The second young master will surely come to understand. You are proper and respectable, and the second young master—I've watched that child grow up—has a kind heart. Since he came today, he won't shirk his responsibility. The second young master has called a physician for you, and in time, he will see your true heart. Please set your mind at ease. With the mistress and master here, they will surely see justice done for you."
"But he has already said it," the woman shook her head again. "How am I any different from those wicked people who tear others apart?"
"How could they be wicked people?" Zhou Mama reassured her. "You're a proper young lady from a respectable family, and there's an old acquaintance between you. This matter certainly won't go wrong. If it were truly impossible, would the master and mistress have agreed to let you come to the capital? That princess consort seems like a sensible person—she surely understands reason and wouldn't use this to make things difficult for you. As for the second young master—forgive this old servant for speaking out of turn—you're beautiful, kind-hearted, and from a good family. How could you compare unfavorably to some maidservant? The second young master is bound to like you. After all, what man wouldn't favor a well-bred young lady? So you can set your heart at ease. For now, it's best to rest properly and not harm your health."
Hearing Zhou Mama's words, the young woman's expression softened slightly. She smiled and said, "Perhaps I've been overthinking things. Well, this is fate. Since I've come, I merely wanted to ask his opinion. Now that we've met, and with my health being poor, I'll have to rest here for now. Once I'm better, I'll return home."
Zhou Mama had more to say, but seeing the young woman's expression, she held her tongue and simply nodded in agreement.
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