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Chapter 45 – A Troubled Heart
She only knows what she knows

The darkness of the night was so deep one couldn’t see their hand before their face, concealing her expression.

Yu Mingyao’s distant gaze fell into the empty void ahead. By the time she returned to herself, she realized it had been a long while since Madam Shi Luo had asked her that question.

She took Madam Shi Luo’s hand again and slowly strolled with her, her expression flawless and unchanging, with not a hint of anything unusual in her words or demeanor.

A soft, clear female voice rose in the night air.

“Pei Shang is fine enough. But Grandmother, why bring up that person?”

She didn’t even mention Xie Zhuoguang’s name.

Yet even so, it made Madam Shi Luo’s heart ache with endless worry, like silken threads that never end.

For a young woman, she didn’t seek a passionate, earth-shattering love. The best outcome was really just mutual respect and courtesy in a stable marriage.

Two people living their days peacefully together—that was enough.

The worst thing was when both sides demanded a pure, untainted heart from each other.

She sighed deeply.

“We’re all family, so I won’t say empty words to you. Pei Shang is honest, kind-hearted, and his parents are courteous people—it’s a family easy to get along with. Even if there are people in that household you dislike, can one ever find absolute perfection?”

“I just fear that you’re determined to seek the rarest thing: a perfect mutual understanding with one person only.”

She had never seen that Xie boy have much entanglement with Yu Mingyao, but when the two faced each other, their demeanor wasn’t natural. Whether there were feelings or not—how could someone like her not see it?

Her long lashes drooped.

Yu Mingyao herself couldn’t explain why she felt no ripples in her heart at this moment. Perhaps it was the Pei family’s lenient handling of Pei Yuzhu that had left her weary.

“It’s nothing. Grandmother, don’t worry. There’s still plenty of time. No rush.”

She still didn’t tell Madam Shi Luo the truth.

Time flowed like water. Since Pei Yuzhu had been sent to be confined at a countryside estate by the Pei family, more than half a month had passed.

During this half month, the Yu family’s belongings had almost all been packed up. They were just waiting for an auspicious day to set off.

Madam Zhen had sent the highly respected Marchioness of Ningyuan to propose marriage. By custom, the bride’s family should refuse the first time, only agreeing after the second or third attempt.

Although Madam Shi Luo declined the first proposal, everyone in the Pei household knew it was merely a formality.

After all, even after being drugged with such potent medicine, Pei Shang still couldn’t bear to harm even a hair on Yu Mingyao. Though none had witnessed it firsthand, everyone could guess as much.

During marriage negotiations, it was inappropriate for the groom to visit personally.

Thus, Pei Shang no longer found excuses to come seek Yu Mingyao like before.

In the household, everyone knew Yu Mingyao was soon to become the daughter-in-law of the Pei family’s main branch and would most likely become the future mistress of the Pei residence.

The neglect and cold treatment she had faced these past few months vanished overnight.

Her small Pear Blossom Courtyard suddenly became highly sought after.

When news first broke of Pei Yuzhu’s trouble, Pei Bizhu had come to speak to Yu Mingyao twice, concerned for her wellbeing. But seeing Yu Mingyao’s utterly calm demeanor and hearing that Pei Yuzhu was suffering a hard life in confinement, her sisterly feelings wavered.

Though they were full-blooded sisters, Pei Bizhu couldn’t hide her thoughts. What she felt always showed on her face.

Yu Mingyao’s spirit was listless. She didn’t have the energy to coax her as before, nor did she relent to have Pei Yuzhu released.

She didn’t even offer a word of comfort.

Pei Bizhu felt uncomfortable. Coupled with the gentle and playful Liu Ru always nearby, she gradually stopped coming.

The autumn wind was bleak. The capital, unlike the south, still had clear sunny days in autumn and winter.

That day, through the window, Yu Mingyao looked up and saw a square patch of sky above, where a few playful kites floated. She realized—autumn in the capital was almost gone.

Soon, the bone-piercing winter would arrive.

White snow would cover the land, and people would loathe to step outside.

A vague melancholy furrowed her brows.

Yan Yue, seeing her dispirited and unmotivated state, tentatively suggested, “Miss, shall we go out for a walk? You haven’t left the courtyard in over half a month.”

Others might not know, but she knew clearly. Ever since Pei Yuzhu was confined, her mistress had been in this lethargic state.

Yu Mingyao’s lashes lowered, casting deep shadows over her face.

After a long moment, she spoke. “Do you know what people in the household are saying about me?”

“This…”

Yan Yue faltered, glancing cautiously at Yu Mingyao, afraid that speaking would upset her.

“Miss, you’re about to marry into this family. You’ll be the main branch’s only daughter-in-law. Are you still afraid of those petty gossips? By then, we can sell off whoever we want.”

As her words fell, Yu Mingyao lowered her eyes, raised the hand that had been supporting her cheek, and slowly brushed it from her temple down her cheek.

The pale purple nail polish on her slender white fingers looked particularly delicate, naturally carrying a hint of charm.

She calmly shifted her gaze to Yan Yue, her jet-black pupils devoid of any extra emotion.

It was then Yan Yue noticed—her mistress had lost weight, quite a bit in fact.

Perhaps because they had been together daily, she had only felt Yu Mingyao had grown more languid recently, like when they first arrived in the capital.

But back then, at least she still had some favorite foods. Now, her appetite shrank daily.

She and Madam Shi Luo had been busy with dowry lists and travel plans, failing to notice these things.

A gust of wind lifted the lotus-colored cloak on Yu Mingyao’s shoulders. The silk jacket that had fit perfectly last year now hung loosely, especially around the collar—on closer inspection, the ill fit was obvious.

“Miss, how about calling a tailor to measure your clothes?”

Meeting Yu Mingyao’s deep gaze, Yan Yue unconsciously lowered her voice. She murmured, “We’ll need measurements for your wedding dress anyway.”

Though her words made sense, for some reason, when they reached Yu Mingyao’s ears, they filled her with an overwhelming irritation, as if a long-suppressed frustration was about to overturn her completely.

She let out a long breath and forced the emotion back down.

“It’s nothing. Just bring me a thicker cloak,” she said, her gaze falling on the lotus-embroidered garment on her body. “I remember I have a green one with bamboo patterns—bring that one.”

“But that one…”

Yan Yue reflexively protested. That garment had been made two years ago. Yu Mingyao had always disliked it and kept it tucked away. Now, she wasn’t sure it would even fit.

Meeting Yu Mingyao’s cold gaze, Yan Yue fell silent.

As she turned to fetch the garment, she pondered—
When had her mistress become more and more like the Heir Xie?
Especially when expressionless, that intimidating aura was identical.

Yu Mingyao didn’t let Yan Yue follow her.

For the first time, she wandered alone aimlessly outside.

The Pei residence was vast, yet sometimes felt small.

In no time, she turned a corner and saw Pei Shang flying kites with Pei Bizhu and Liu Ru.

She watched Pei Shang, though looking impatient, still take the kite from Liu Ru and help launch it at Pei Bizhu’s repeated pleas.

Liu Ru shyly stole glances at Pei Shang, her almond eyes brimming with affection.

Pei Lianzhu, thinking them childish, looked on in annoyance, gesturing and fussing.

The scene was harmonious, like a painting.

It was clear—perhaps for the past ten years, in the days without her, Pei Shang had lived just like this.

He could live just fine without her.

Her heart, upon realizing this, felt like it had been punched through.

A gust of wind cut past her, sharp as northern burning liquor, slicing straight into her.

For a moment, in front of her flashed the frostbitten Yu Jinnian, then Xie Zhuoguang.

The two figures alternated, back and forth.

Neither was willing to let her go. Neither would leave her mind.

Lost and bewildered, she didn’t know where she had wandered.

Amidst the crowd, Cheng Qing anxiously called for the carriage. Lifting the curtain, the first thing he saw was this scene—

The woman his young master cherished most, with a pale face, drifting aimlessly through the crowd.

She wore no veil, her alluring yet weary beauty like a piece of meat among flies.

With one glance, Cheng Qing spotted the many malicious gazes surrounding Yu Mingyao.

“Stop the carriage!”

He leapt down and quickly approached.

“Finally found you, Miss Yu! I’ve been wanting to find you, but our young master wouldn’t let me.”

“Please, come see our young master quickly—he’s dying!”

At his words, Yu Mingyao’s legs gave out and she nearly collapsed.

Cheng Qing caught her and then politely let go.

Looking at him after half a month, Cheng Qing appeared haggard, with a scruffy beard—something she hadn’t seen in her seven years at the Xie residence.

“You… tell me in detail.”

Her face was deathly pale.

“No time for details!”

Cheng Qing was almost frantic. “Please hurry, Miss Yu. Later… I won’t be able to say more.”

His vague words hit her like a thunderclap.

She didn’t know where her soul was anymore.

Only after boarding the carriage and hearing Cheng Qing’s explanation did the color gradually return to her bloodless face and purple lips.

Cheng Qing sat up front, driving the carriage at breakneck speed. The previous driver had long been dismissed.

Through the cold wind, Cheng Qing’s booming voice carried clearly to Yu Mingyao’s ears.

“Miss Yu, you don’t know—since attending your coming-of-age ceremony, the young master’s mind has been clouded. He’s often said nonsense, and these days, the fever’s only gotten worse—it hasn’t gone down at all.”

“The imperial doctor says if it doesn’t break soon, his life is at risk. Even if he survives, it’s uncertain what state he’ll wake in.”

“None of the household cares. The Duke is busy with affairs, and that person only sent a maid over for appearances.”

“If I hadn’t met you, I wouldn’t know what to do.”

As his words fell, Yu Mingyao’s just-recovered complexion turned pale again.

From Cheng Qing’s account, she learned that after she left that day, Xie Zhuoguang hadn’t stayed at the Pei residence for a moment longer.

Not a naive child, he had endured the effects of that potent drug expressionlessly, returning straight to his own residence.

He merely ordered Cheng Qing to fetch ice.

In the dead of winter, he soaked in ice water, refused doctors, and didn’t even seek relief.

Alternating extreme heat and cold—it was a miracle his body held out.

She was both angry and distressed. Even as the carriage entered the eastern gate of the Xie residence, Cheng Qing’s voice echoed in her ears:

“Don’t blame me, Miss Yu. I called in two maids who resembled you and even prepared some enticing items, but the young master didn’t touch any of it. He endured it all.”

“I thought he disliked the maids and left room for him. Who knew he just soaked for hours—without a single improper action.”

“The imperial doctor says, with the drug still in his system, it’s likely turned to poison by now.”

These words left Yu Mingyao’s heart in utter chaos. She didn’t know how to face Xie Zhuoguang.

She only knew what she knew.

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