Chapter 7

Madam Xu didn’t have anyone keep an eye on Yun Yiniang and Xi Yue because she never imagined these two would dare to flee the household. In her mind, even if Xi Yue was unwilling and wanted to make a fuss, she would only do so at home—and it wouldn’t amount to much. Master Xu had already been persuaded by her. With the Parents’ Mandate pressing down, Xi Yue would have no choice but to obey, even if ordered to die. What else could she possibly do?  

She was so certain that she wasn’t even the first to learn of Yun Yiniang and Xi Yue’s escape.  

It was Madam Hong.  

The moment Yun Yiniang and Xi Yue sneaked out through the back gate, two separate groups of people slipped into the Pingjiang Earl’s residence.  

“Their concubine-born daughter ran away? Which one?”  

A servant knelt outside the screen and reported in detail, “It should be the second daughter. An older woman followed her out, and I heard the gatekeeper call her Yun Yiniang.”  

Madam Hong held her teacup. “Do you know where they went?”  

The servant replied, “I followed them to the main road. They hired a sedan chair and told the bearers to go to the Court of State Ceremonial.”  

“So they’re going to find Master Xu.” Madam Hong nodded in satisfaction. “You’ve done well. Keep watching them, and report back immediately if there are any new developments.”  

A maid standing nearby, hearing Madam Hong’s praise, stepped outside the screen and handed the servant an embroidered pouch. The servant hastily accepted it, kowtowed in thanks, and seeing that Madam Hong had nothing further to say, rose and retreated with a bow.  

Behind the screen, Madam Hong took a sip of tea and asked the maid with a smile, “Guess why the Xu family’s second daughter ran away?”  

The maid, returning, pursed her lips and smiled. “Madam can’t stump this servant. I’d guess the second daughter ran because the eldest daughter is ill.”  

The words sounded amusing, and Madam Hong laughed. “You’ve grown quite clever, speaking with such wit.”  

She then shook her head, as if regretful. “Those civil official families always boast about their refinement and discipline. But look—how are they any better than us? The Xu family once produced a minister, yet in less than a decade, they’ve fallen into such absurdity.”  

The maid chimed in, “They just talk a good game. If the descendants are useless, no amount of wealth and status can save them. They can’t compare to families like ours, passed down through generations.”  

Madam Hong enjoyed such flattery, her lips curling as she set the teacup down lightly.  

The maid, understanding, stepped forward to refill the tea and asked, “Madam, what should we do now? Should we take any action?”  

“What more is there to do?” Madam Hong said lazily. “I think Madam Xu’s plan is quite sound—losing one daughter doesn’t matter when there’s still another of marriageable age. No matter which one she presents, the real show will only begin once she’s brought over.”  

The maid offered the tea and flattered, “Madam is right. Your strategy is always superior.”  

**  

Setting aside Madam Hong’s side of things, the second to know still wasn’t Madam Xu.  

The second group of spies leaving the Xu residence was also a servant. He entered through a side gate near the Pingjiang Earl’s residence’s kitchen, circled around, and slipped quietly into the Tranquil Virtue Courtyard.  

This was where the gravely ill Old Master Fang recuperated. Compared to other areas, it was noticeably quieter, with the few servants moving about stepping lightly, the courtyard nearly silent.  

The servant hugged the wall and slipped into the side room next to the main hall.

By the window of the side room stood a small stove with a medicine pot on top. The lid of the pot was slightly askew, and the bitter aroma of herbs wafted upward, filling the entire room with the scent of medicinal plants—not exactly unpleasant, but far from pleasant either.

A man in gray robes sat in front of the stove, his profile turned toward the door, lazily fanning the flames with a palm-leaf fan.

A servant approached and quietly reported what he had witnessed at the back gate of the Xu residence—including the movements of the servant sent by Madam Hong.

After listening, the man nodded.

The servant waited a moment, but when no further response came, he asked, “Master, what should we do next?”

The man paused his fanning and raised his hand—revealing a scar that stretched from his wrist and disappeared beneath his sleeve. Though healed, the twisted, jagged mark bore witness to the severity of the original injury.

With the same hand, he slowly traced a phrase in the air with the dusty fan handle: *Wait and observe the changes.*

The servant watched intently, then replied, “Understood.”

He withdrew without making a single unnecessary sound.

The man lowered his head and resumed fanning the flames, his movements unchanged, as if no one had ever entered or spoken to him.

＊＊

It wasn’t until afternoon that Madam Xu finally learned about the fire in the rear courtyard.

She had only herself to blame—to keep Wangyue’s feigned illness a secret, she had forbidden visits from all quarters, allowing Yun Yiniang to conceal the truth for so long.

How she had escaped and where she had gone were easy enough to uncover—just interrogate a string of maids from Yun Yiniang’s courtyard. The real difficulty lay in deciding what to do afterward.

By now, Yun Yiniang would have already found Master Xu. She had no qualms about making a scene, but Madam Xu absolutely could not afford the scandal. If word got out, how could they proceed with the plan of *Substituting the Plum for the Peach*?

Madam Xu clenched her jaw, seething with anger, and shattered a teacup set. But in the end, she swallowed her rage—losing one girl didn’t matter; there was still another at home!

The remaining one was foolish, dull, and far easier to control.

This time, there could be no mistakes. Madam Xu ordered Ying Yue to be taken from Clear Canal Courtyard and placed under her direct supervision. Only on the eve of the *Auspicious Day*, the fifteenth of March, did she finally reveal the scheme to her.

Ying Yue, caught in a calamity she never saw coming, was abruptly dragged from her shell and confined to a side room in the main courtyard for two days and a night. The maids guarding her ignored all her questions, strictly forbidding her from even moving around, let alone leaving. Already terrified by the ordeal, Ying Yue was utterly stunned when Madam Xu laid out her grand plan.

“Wangyue is ill, so it falls to you. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have this fortune,” Madam Xu declared imperiously. “If you behave and obey your parents’ *Mandate* in marriage, you’ll reap the benefits. You’ll live as the esteemed Madam Fang, lacking none of the glory. Do you understand?”

Ying Yue didn’t understand. This was beyond her comprehension. How could she marry into her elder sister’s family? What did being a “Madam” have to do with her?

After Madam Xu finished her two “kind words,” she quickly shifted to intimidation: “If you don’t obey, like that troublemaker Second Sister bringing trouble to the family—hmph! Then don’t even think about a household like the Pingjiang Earl’s. If you’re lucky enough to find a nunnery willing to take you in, that’d be your fortune. Otherwise, you’ll die as a lonely ghost, with no one to offer you incense in the afterlife!”

Her harsh tone was quite effective. Ying Yue had always feared her, and before she could even respond, her face reflexively showed terror.

For Madam Xu, this was enough. She didn’t need Ying Yue’s cooperation beyond sitting in the bridal sedan and entering the gates of the Pingjiang Earl’s residence—that would count as a successful substitution. From this perspective, whether it was Xi Yue or Ying Yue who took Wangyue’s place made little difference. However, since Xi Yue was older and shrewder, she seemed the more reliable choice. But who knew the clever one would be harder to control? Xi Yue had outright fled the household.

That said, this so-called “success” was only from Madam Xu’s scheming perspective. As for what Ying Yue would face after such an absurd “marriage,” how she would live afterward, or even whether she could survive—none of that was within Madam Xu’s consideration.

After all, Ying Yue wasn’t her own flesh and blood. Why should she care so much? Raising her well all these years was already a kindness. Now it was only right for her to be of some use to the family.

With a few more instructions, Madam Xu left. By the time Ying Yue regained her senses, it was too late—she could do nothing. Like a small animal trapped in a snare, she remained confined for over three more hours until the Fifth Watch Drum sounded outside. As voices gradually rose, Madam Xu returned and ordered her to be taken to a side room, where the Wedding Attendant performed Face Threading, Applying Makeup, Hairdressing, and dressed her in bridal attire.

Pinned before the dressing table, Ying Yue couldn’t move. The thin cotton thread pulled against her skin brought an indescribable, peculiar pain. She wanted to struggle, to refuse—but the Old Matron gripping her gave her back a sharp twist and said with a false smile, “Young Miss, you mustn’t move. If your face gets ruined, you won’t look pretty, and the groom won’t like you.”

What groom? He wasn’t hers!

Summoning her courage, Ying Yue wanted to shout it out—but the Old Matron swiftly twisted her again, turning her words into a pained gasp.

She wanted to resist further, but her limited experience and lack of upbringing left her powerless against such sudden upheaval. The room was packed with people, yet no one cared about her or paid her any mind. Their faces bore paper-thin smiles as they congratulated her in bizarre voices—”Young Miss, such joy!”—as if it were the most absurd play, something she couldn’t even dream of.

And so, she was forced through each step of the process. Outside, dawn broke, but she couldn’t see it. A beaded Head Covering was draped over her, leaving only a bloody red haze before her eyes.

Someone she didn’t know carried her on their back, and she was placed inside a sedan chair, clutching a round-bellied vase. Firecrackers and drums erupted around her as the sedan was lifted. Ironically, Ying Yue had never ridden in a sedan chair before—she’d never even left the house. Now, as her feet left the ground and her body swayed, the sudden weightlessness nearly sent her crashing into the sedan wall.

The sedan chair began to move, and the surrounding clamor grew even louder. Ying Yue’s surreal, dreamlike sensation intensified. The many familiar voices outside now sounded as distant and unfamiliar as if muffled by clouds—even Madam Xu’s wailing seemed illusory, though that might have been because it was feigned in the first place.  

At least there was no Old Matron inside the sedan chair ready to pinch her at any moment. Ying Yue finally had a sliver of autonomy, but there was little she could do. The Wedding Attendants and maids walking alongside the sedan were all Madam Xu’s people. The slightest misstep from her would be swiftly suppressed.  

Ying Yue lifted the head covering blocking her vision and spotted a small square window on the right side of the sedan. She reached out to lift the curtain covering it, but as soon as the tasseled drape moved, it was immediately pressed down from the outside. She didn’t even see who had done it.  

She then tried to call out, but the noise outside was overwhelming—the drums and gongs never ceased. Since they had left the Xu residence, children had begun following the procession, laughing and shouting for celebratory coins. Her voice was naturally soft, and even at its loudest, it couldn’t carry far. Those closest to her could hear, but they were undoubtedly Madam Xu’s trusted aides and ignored her completely.  

Panicked and terrified, Ying Yue wondered—was she really going to be carried straight to the Pingjiang Bo Manor like this? Madam Xu couldn’t have arranged this beforehand, or she wouldn’t have dragged Ying Yue out as a last-minute replacement. When the people of Pingjiang Bo Manor saw her, they would surely be shocked. The mere thought of that scene made her nearly faint from embarrassment and shame inside the sedan.  

Madam Xu was ruthless and capable of anything—but Ying Yue wasn’t!  

Stretching her arm desperately, she reached for the front curtain again. The only way out was to throw herself out—surely that commotion couldn’t be ignored. The Pingjiang Bo Manor wouldn’t accept her anyway; she’d be humiliated sooner or later. Better to disgrace herself halfway there. She’d rather go back and face Madam Xu’s wrath—  

*Thud!*  

The precious vase she had casually placed beside her rolled to the ground and slipped out from under the curtain. This time, the people outside couldn’t pretend not to notice. But the mishap disrupted the sedan’s rhythm—the bearers in front, startled by the vase, slowed their steps, while those behind continued at their usual pace. The misalignment sent the sedan lurching violently.  

Coincidentally, Ying Yue was also startled by the accident, her mouth half-open in shock. Half-sitting, half-standing in an awkward position, she was thrown back by the jolt. Her head hit the sedan wall just as her teeth snapped shut—biting her tongue cleanly!  

A sharp, blinding pain overwhelmed her senses for a moment.  

The minor commotion outside was quickly resolved. One of the maids picked up the vase and, likely to prevent further trouble, decided not to return it to her for now. The sedan resumed its journey.  

Tears welled in Ying Yue’s eyes, but she couldn’t react—the pain was too intense. Blood gushed forth, instantly filling her mouth. She choked, coughing once, and the blood spilled over her chin onto her robes.  

Only then, through the agony, did she regain a shred of mobility. Instinctively, she wiped her chin—her hand came away sticky. Looking down, she saw it was now entirely coated in blood.  

Ying Yue was horrified. The visual was far too gruesome!

But this was only the beginning. She had no idea how badly she had bitten herself—the blood simply wouldn’t stop. She clamped her mouth shut, hoping this feeble measure might help, but it was useless. Her mouth quickly filled again, forcing her to swallow twice. The taste—well, it nearly made her vomit.  

Yet Ying Yue forced herself to swallow two more mouthfuls. The blood was flowing too fast, too much. She was terrified of dying like this, senselessly. She didn’t want to be a substitute bride for her elder sister, but she didn’t want to die even more. She had never even stepped beyond her family’s gates—to die like this was too unfair.  

Naively, she thought that by swallowing the blood, returning it to her body, the situation might seem less horrifying.  

At the same time, she wanted to call for help, but the state of her mouth made speech impossible. If she tried to throw herself out, she might only make things worse—one wrong move, and she could kill herself outright.  

Trembling, she weakly reached to lift the sedan chair’s curtain, but the moment she tried, someone outside pressed it back down. She lacked the strength to struggle, so she turned to pounding on the sedan walls instead. Even as she left several bloody handprints on the wooden panels, there was no response from outside. The sedan chair continued its jolting journey.  

Ying Yue’s strength was draining rapidly. At one point, her consciousness wavered—she might have blacked out, but she knew she hadn’t, because blood wasn’t like saliva; it didn’t slide down naturally. Each fresh surge of blood in her mouth choked her back to awareness.  

The moment her senses returned, she weakly pounded on the sedan walls again. She could no longer pinpoint where her wound was—her entire tongue was swollen and throbbing, the blood unrelenting. The sheer horror of feeling her life force slipping away bit by bit was unbearable…  

Would she really die like this?  

She—didn’t want to die—  

Thud!  

The sedan chair landed.