Chapter 13

Fang Hanxiao stood at the door of the bridal chamber but did not enter. Instead, he stepped aside, revealing two maids who had been hiding behind him—Yuzan and Shinan.  

The two maids looked disheveled, as if they had suffered greatly. When they saw Ying Yue, they didn’t dare make a sound, but their eyes lit up instantly, gazing at her with urgent excitement.  

Ying Yue was so overwhelmed that she suddenly found the strength to stand up. “—!”  

She hadn’t known Yuzan and Shinan had followed her to Marquis Pingjiang Manor. Ever since she had been locked up in the Xu family, she hadn’t seen her maids again.  

Fang Hanxiao was like a fleeting wind—he turned and left without another word.  

Ying Yue barely noticed him, nearly in tears as she rushed forward. Once he was gone, the two maids quickly regained their spirits and hurried inside, supporting Ying Yue on either side. The three of them looked at each other, eyes brimming with tears.  

Shinan burst into sobs. “Wuwu, Miss! When Madam said you were marrying into Marquis Pingjiang Manor, Yuzan-jie and I were terrified! We were kept under watch the whole time, dragged along with the bridal sedan in a daze. I wanted to talk to you on the way, but I couldn’t get close. And when we got here, it was even more chaotic. Madam Hong had us seized and was about to give us forty lashes each! Luckily, Young Master Fang came looking for us and asked if there were any maids who had served you before. I shouted, and that’s how we were brought here. Otherwise—wuwu, I don’t know if I’d even be alive to see you again!”  

Between her crying and talking, her face was a mess, but she managed to explain most of what had happened.  

Yuzan was steadier. She quickly examined Ying Yue’s face and asked hesitantly, “Miss, earlier I saw Young Master Fang carrying you into the manor, and then I vaguely heard you hit your head—?”  

Ying Yue shook her head and opened her mouth to show her.  

Yuzan gasped sharply. Shinan wailed, “Wuwuwu—Miss!”  

Understanding dawned in Yuzan’s eyes, and tears fell. “I know you didn’t want this, Miss, but please don’t do anything reckless. If something happens to you, how could Yuzan and I go on living?”  

Shinan sobbed in agreement. “Miss, don’t do such a foolish thing again! It must have hurt so much! Have you seen a physician? What did they say?”  

Ying Yue replied, “Was—accident. Saw—can… heal.”  

With people she was close to, she relaxed much more. By speaking very slowly, she could convey simple meanings clearly.  

Yuzan and Shinan felt slightly reassured and composed themselves before helping Ying Yue sit back down on the bed.  

The bed was in disarray from when Ying Yue and Fang Hui had been searching for the hidden fruits earlier. The fruits Fang Hui had dug out were still piled on the quilt, and beside them lay the head covering, now filled with the shells the two had peeled.  

Yuzan was stunned. “They didn’t feed you?”  

Even if Ying Yue was usually carefree, she wouldn’t have been snacking on wedding fruits in the bridal chamber at a time like this—unless she was starving.  

Ying Yue nodded and remembered to ask, “You—also… not eat?”  

If she had been hungry all this time, her maids, who had just escaped a beating, certainly hadn’t been fed either.  

Shinan nodded miserably. “We were starving on the way, but when we got here, Madam Hong had us seized for punishment. I was so scared I forgot about being hungry. Now that you mention it, I feel it again. Listen, Miss—my stomach’s growling!”

Yuzan looked around, hoping to find someone to ask, but the bridal chamber was empty—there was no one else besides them.

Ying Yue tugged at her sleeve. “No one’s here. Let’s have some fruit first.”

Yuzan hesitated. Unfamiliar with the place and having just narrowly escaped danger, she didn’t dare step outside the bridal chamber to ask around. So she sat down and helped peel fruit for Ying Yue. Seeing there was plenty, she occasionally took a bite herself.

Shinan noticed a teapot on the table and eagerly went to pour tea. But as soon as she touched the pot, she frowned. “This tea is stone-cold. It’s fine for us, but I’m not sure if the young lady can drink it.”

Ying Yue was also thirsty and said, “It’s fi—”

She had barely uttered the first syllable when the curtain at the door rustled, and in walked a maid around seventeen or eighteen years old, dressed in a peach-red sleeveless jacket. She carried an exquisite rectangular rosewood food box inlaid with mother-of-pearl and said with a smile, “Greetings, First Madam. This servant has brought you a bowl of noodles.”

She placed the food box on the table and lifted the lid. Inside was indeed a bowl of noodles—golden chicken broth, snow-white noodles, topped with a tender poached egg and garnished with green scallions. As soon as it was unveiled, the rising steam carried its aroma, and the eyes of Shinan, who stood right by the table, as well as Ying Yue and Yuzan, who sat by the bed, were all drawn to it.

Yuzan snapped out of it and quickly stood up. “Thank you, sister. Please convey our young lady’s gratitude to Young Master Fang for his thoughtfulness—”

The maid pressed her lips together in a smile. “You’ve misunderstood. I’m not Young Master Fang’s maid. I serve our eldest young lady. She sent me to the kitchen to fetch the noodles.”

Yuzan froze—eldest young lady? In her mind, since Fang Hanxiao had specifically gone to Madam Hong to retrieve her and Shinan for Ying Yue, the noodles must have been his doing. How could an eldest young lady suddenly appear?

Ying Yue was also surprised. Beyond surprise, she felt grateful—she hadn’t expected that little child to think of this for her. Slowly, she said, “Thank you—and your eldest young lady.”

The maid smiled and curtsied. “First Madam needn’t be so polite. It’s late, so this servant won’t disturb you further.”

After the maid left, Shinan hurried back to the bed with a delighted expression to help Ying Yue up. “Young lady, Young Master Fang treats you well! Even his sister is kind to you.”

Ying Yue nodded, then shook her head. “His sister is kind, but he isn’t. He—forced me to bow.”

Thinking of the involuntary wedding bows, Ying Yue felt wronged. Even the bowl of chicken noodles placed before her at the table didn’t seem as appetizing anymore.

Yuzan asked in surprise, “He forced you to bow?”

Ying Yue nodded. “He pinched me and wouldn’t let me speak.”

Shinan quickly asked, “Really? Where did he pinch you?”

Ying Yue lowered her head to examine her clothes. Her waist still ached faintly—she was sure there must be bruises.

“Oh heavens!”

Shinan suddenly let out a shocked cry. Yuzan bent over to look and immediately covered her mouth. “Young lady…”

Wasn’t this reaction a bit exaggerated? Even if there were bruises, surely they couldn’t be worse than the injury in her mouth—Ying Yue thought it strange as she lowered her head. Still wearing her wedding dress with its many layers, she wasn’t able to see easily. She had to gather the fabric higher before she could see—and then she understood why the maids had reacted so strongly.

On the small patch of exposed skin at her waist were several dark purple pinch marks. Against her otherwise snow-white skin, they looked especially shocking.

Shinan was furious. “How could he treat the young lady so harshly? I thought he was a good man!”

Ying Yue was taken aback. “No—”

Yuzan pressed her lips tightly together, suppressing her emotions as she lifted Ying Yue’s clothes further, revealing an even more distressing sight on her back. The bruises spread across her spine like scattered plum blossoms, a sight too painful to behold.

Shinan was both enraged and heartbroken. “The young lady never suffered like this at home. How could Young Master Fang be so cruel? He’s truly wicked!—Young lady, what’s wrong?”

She noticed Ying Yue suddenly pulling her clothes down in a fluster, with Yuzan helping her.

Shinan looked up in confusion and froze.

As the saying goes, speak of the devil and he shall appear. Fang Hanxiao had unexpectedly returned, standing at the doorway, hesitating whether to enter.

Snapping out of her daze, Shinan hurried to help Ying Yue adjust her clothes, her heart uneasy—had Fang Hanxiao seen anything?

Of course, he had. The moment he reached the door, he saw Ying Yue lifting her clothes. He paused, but she only pulled them up further. He glimpsed her sitting amidst the rosy wedding dress, a corner of her undergarment slightly raised, revealing a slender, pale waist marked with faint fingerprints.

His gaze flickered briefly.

From his angle, he couldn’t see Ying Yue’s back, but the maids’ distressed exclamations told him enough. For a bride to be treated like this before leaving home, her daily life must have been unbearable.

Yet, strangely, instead of growing bitter like coptis or poisonous mushrooms in such hardship, she had bloomed like a delicate white lotus.

Her waist was soft and fair, undeniably a maiden’s grace, but her mind seemed simpler than even eight-year-old Fang Hui’s.

And now she was complaining about him to her maids—how had she grown up so naive?

Yuzan and Shinan fumbled to help Ying Yue straighten her clothes, then stood protectively beside her, glaring at Fang Hanxiao. In their eyes, he had gone from savior to executioner.

Ying Yue, somewhat embarrassed, murmured softly, “N-no, not him.”

Though she was angry about being forced into the wedding ceremony, she remembered clearly—Fang Hanxiao had only poked her once. Blaming all her injuries on him wasn’t fair.

Fang Hanxiao had already averted his gaze slightly. Only when he saw her properly dressed did he step inside. He carried a larger food box than the one the maids had brought earlier—three-tiered. Placing it on the table, he paused at the sight of the noodle bowl.

Hearing that he wasn’t the one who hurt her, Yuzan’s attitude softened. With a polite smile, she explained, “The eldest young lady sent this earlier. We didn’t expect you to bring more. Thank you, Young Master.”

Fang Hanxiao nodded and left without another word.

The maids, unfamiliar with him, didn’t dare stop him, exchanging bewildered glances instead.

After a long silence, Shinan hesitantly asked, “Why did he leave again? Tonight is the Wedding Night—will he come back?”

Though they couldn’t fathom Young Master Fang’s intentions, since he had forced Ying Yue through the ceremony, it was clear he intended to make her his wife.

Yuzan thought for a moment. “Probably not. The young lady is still injured.”

Shinan relaxed. True, with Ying Yue barely able to speak and covered in bruises, what could they do? Rest was what she needed most.

Thinking of the bruises, she quickly asked, “Miss, who pinched you like this?”

Ying Yue replied, “Mama Cai.”

“No wonder!” Shinan gritted her teeth. “That old hag is the fiercest among the madam’s attendants. Don’t be afraid, Miss. When we were in that courtyard earlier, Mama Cai was also pinned down there. Master Fang brought us out but left her behind. She must be getting a good beating now—forty lashes, not one less.”

Ying Yue thought about it, felt a sense of satisfaction, and nodded with a smile.

Yuzan was already lifting the lid of the food box, chuckling as she said, “Who would have thought Master Fang still remembered that Miss hadn’t eaten? We wronged him earlier.”

Shinan peeked inside and brightened up. “Wow, there’s so much! Sister Yuzan and I can also fill our stomachs thanks to Miss.”

Ying Yue didn’t feel particularly remembered. From the moment she stepped into Marquis Pingjiang Manor, everything that had happened felt bizarre. She couldn’t put it into words, but she knew something was off.

However, she didn’t have the energy to dwell on it now. Sitting with her two maids, she slowly picked at the soft, bland food until she was half-full, and drowsiness soon overwhelmed her.

The maids helped her out of the layers of wedding attire. Without water, they didn’t dare go out to ask for any. Ying Yue was too exhausted to wash up, so she curled up on the bed and fell asleep.

The chaos of the day had finally come to a temporary end.

***

While Ying Yue rested, Fang Hanxiao was still awake.

He was drinking.

As the groom, he had to entertain the guests.

Most people weren’t close to him, and due to his muteness, they didn’t dare to push him to drink. But his old friends had no such reservations. Slapping him on the shoulder, they poured him drinks while complaining, “Master Fang, you’re really something! Ignoring everyone these years is one thing, but forgetting even me? Running off to have fun without even sending a letter back! No way—you have to drink this cup today, or we won’t let you go to the bridal chamber!”

“Exactly, you must drink!”

Fang Hanxiao didn’t refuse. Cup after cup, he drank them all, and soon the scent of alcohol clung to him, his gaze growing increasingly unfocused.

“Good, Master Fang knows how to have fun!”

“Now that’s what friends are for! I’ve missed you all these years. You don’t know—after you left, that Fang Hancheng started acting all high and mighty, strutting around and even trying to drink with me. Hah, as if he’s worthy—!”

“Master Xue, you’re drunk and talking nonsense.” The young man beside him clapped a hand over his mouth but then lowered his voice, winking at Fang Hanxiao. “Not just Master Xue—I ignored him too. Pretentious and sour, just talking to him makes my teeth ache. The sight of him pisses us off. Not beating him up is already mercy—who’d drink with him?!”

Fang Hanxiao smirked, clinking his freshly filled cup with the other’s before downing it together.

“Brother Fang, let me toast you too!”

This loud shout came from Cen Yongchun, the heir of Marquis Longchang. Originally seated elsewhere, he had squeezed his way over, grinning broadly as if drawn by the lively atmosphere.

Fang Hanxiao lifted his gaze, lazily looking over.

Amid the sea of festive red, Cen Yongchun’s face—handsome but oddly twisted with inexplicable smugness—came into view. Fang Hanxiao found himself utterly calm, even amused.

He turned his head, had the maidservant refill his wine, then raised his cup toward Cen Yongchun.  

“To you.”  

“Step into the jar.”