Chapter 11

The rain poured down in torrents.

Yang Wenxu had hired a carriage, but the rain came too fast and too heavy. The coachman couldn’t find a suitable place to take shelter, and the wind-driven rain invaded through the carriage windows and curtains. By the time they finally entered the city and returned home, both Yang Wenxu and Lu Lanyi were damp with moisture.

Consort Jiang was waiting at the door. Seeing Yang Wenxu alight from the carriage, she quickly pulled him away to bathe and change clothes.

Cui Cui also stood by the door, her eyes filled with worry as she stepped forward a moment later to greet them. Lan Yi thought that given her inability to hold back words, Cui Cui would surely ask something. Yet as they walked, Cui Cui didn’t utter a single word.

It wasn’t until they stepped inside the house that Cui Cui called out to Ling Zi, instructing her to fetch hot water from the kitchen. Only then did she reach out to tightly grasp Lan Yi’s arm, tears rolling down her face: “Madam, I was so worried…”

Lan Yi’s expression softened slightly as she patted Cui Cui’s hand and said, “I’m hungry.”

By her reckoning, she hadn’t eaten for a full day and night.

Cui Cui forgot her tears in an instant, hastily wiping them away before rushing to the kitchen to hurry along a bowl of bone broth noodles. Seeing Lan Yi sit at the table and begin eating, her lips turning crimson from the heat yet not stopping, and eventually even drinking all the broth, Cui Cui was so startled she wanted to intervene but didn’t dare: “Madam, didn’t you eat outside? Slow down—can Madam’s stomach handle eating like this?”

Lan Yi took a moment to answer: “It’s fine.”

But Cui Cui was right—she actually couldn’t.

Her fragile stomach couldn’t endure the strain, and before long, Lan Yi vomited most of the noodles and broth she had consumed. As she teetered on the edge of unconsciousness, she heard Cui Cui shouting in panic, then what seemed like Aunt Zhou’s voice, and then perhaps someone striding in. Cui Cui went to plead for help: “Master, please call a doctor quickly, Madam is—”

This phrase was all too familiar; she had heard it often before.

Lan Yi smiled silently to herself. This time, it should really be the end. She had done most of what needed to be done, and continuing to live was becoming somewhat tiresome even to her.

Her stomach burned like fire, yet Lan Yi’s heart felt light as she willingly let her consciousness sink into the darkness.

**

A hazy light appeared before her eyes.

It was like the faint glow of dawn breaking at the horizon, the early morning light spilling through the window and filtering through the bed curtains.

Lan Yi sighed.

Why had she woken up again?

Her throat was parched, so she lifted a corner of the bed curtain to ask for tea.

Cui Cui, who had been dozing curled up on the footstool, startled awake and fumbled to pour water. She helped Lan Yi drink slowly, then went out to the adjacent side room to fetch a small half-bowl of congee that had been kept warm. She explained, “The doctor said Madam can only have this for now.”

Weak in both hands and feet, Lan Yi let herself be propped up and fed spoonful by spoonful. Throughout, Cui Cui was extremely tense, fearing that even plain congee might be too much for her stomach and she would vomit again. Fortunately, Lan Yi showed no adverse reaction by the time the bowl was empty.

The substantial feeling of food soothing her stomach, Lan Yi rested for a while before mustering the strength to ask, “Did the doctor see me?”

Cui Cui nodded. “The master called him. The doctor said Madam was mainly suffering from hunger, but also caught a chill, and with a weak stomach, medicine wasn’t advisable. He recommended warm congee for a few meals to see. If Madam can keep it down, then it’s not serious, and she can recover slowly with care.”

Lan Yi wasn’t particularly interested in what the doctor had said and asked instead, “Did Sister-in-law Ji come by? What did she say?”

Thinking back now, she had doubts about the message Sister-in-law Ji had relayed.

If the Yang family truly knew what she had done at Reverence Heaven Temple, Yang Wen Xu wouldn’t have calmly gone to fetch her—nor would he have been able to restrain himself from interrogating her on the way back, though the heavy rain might have played a part. In the end, he might not even have called a physician for her.  

Cui Cui’s expression turned fearful.  

Lan Yi was slightly surprised. Clearly, Cui Cui knew. Then how could Yang Wen Xu—? She knew him well. No matter how composed he was, his self-control wasn’t that impeccable.  

“Yesterday evening, Sister-in-law Ji came to speak with the master,” Cui Cui began, her voice trembling slightly. “She said the mistress had been detained at Reverence Heaven Temple for some unknown reason. The master rushed out before the night curfew to make inquiries and found out that several prominent families in the city also had members who hadn’t returned, just like the mistress.”  

Lan Yi nodded.  

Reverence Heaven Temple had ostensibly stopped receiving outside guests. Those who could still enter yesterday were no ordinary folk.  

“No one knew why. When the master returned and questioned Sister-in-law Ji again, she still couldn’t explain clearly. The master grew stern, and she collapsed into a chair, crying. Unable to press her further, the master had to let it go.” Cui Cui clenched her left hand around her right, steadying herself to continue. “By then, it was too late—the city gates were already closed. The master said he would go fetch the mistress the next morning and told Sister-in-law Ji to go home first. He also said that since it wasn’t just the mistress who’d been detained, it likely wasn’t her fault, so the family shouldn’t make a fuss.”  

Lan Yi understood.  

Yang Wen Xu’s reasoning and handling of the situation were, by conventional logic, not wrong. The problem lay in Sister-in-law Ji withholding crucial information from him.  

“After that, Consort Jiang came to say that Rui Ge’er seemed to be running a fever again, so the master went over. I was about to escort Sister-in-law Ji out, but she refused to leave. She grabbed my hand and said—” Cui Cui looked up, her fear and worry now unrestrained, “that the mistress had… lost her virtue…”  

Lan Yi: “…”  

Lan Yi averted her gaze and replied calmly, “No. Sister-in-law misunderstood.”  

“But after the mistress fainted, I changed your clothes and saw—” Cui Cui lowered her head, her voice nearly inaudible, “a torn piece of your collar, and bruises on your shoulder and wrist. I didn’t dare tell anyone and hid the clothes. Ling Zi doesn’t know either.”  

“…”  

Lan Yi believed she had nothing to be ashamed of, but in front of her personal maid, she couldn’t entirely feign indifference. She answered vaguely and quickly, “Then you should know—nothing really happened.”  

With her frail health, if she had engaged in a more violent struggle with Prince Yi, she wouldn’t have made it back alive. Even so, the little vitality she had regained was nearly spent.  

On this point, Cui Cui was certain, though her worry remained. “But if the master finds out, it’ll be disastrous. Mistress, what really happened? At first, I didn’t believe it at all, but Sister-in-law Ji seemed utterly distraught. She kept saying things like ‘don’t blame me’ and that the family patriarch forbade her from sending word, but she agonized over it and came secretly, doing her best. After rambling incoherently, she finally left. I wanted to question her further, but afraid the master or Consort Jiang might hear, I didn’t dare stop her. I had to let her go.”  

The corner of Lan Yi’s lips twitched.  

She shouldn’t have been able to laugh, yet she found it somewhat absurd.

No wonder Sister-in-law Ji only arrived in the evening, preventing Yang Wen Xu from leaving the city that day—based on the time she fled down the mountain, the letter should have been delivered by afternoon.  

It turned out her father had obstructed it.  

Sister-in-law Ji must have told Master Lu the truth. Upon learning there was a possibility of being implicated in the “assassination attempt on Prince Yi,” Master Lu didn’t even bother to verify it before decisively cutting ties with her, this “root of trouble,” and casting her out.  

Her father had this kind of direct and ruthless instinct for self-preservation—just like when he had given her farmland as dowry to marry into the impoverished Yang family, or years later, when she had already passed away, he took his youngest son to the capital before Yang Wen Xu remarried to have the boy acknowledge his “brother-in-law.”  

“Madam?” Cui Cui called out worriedly.  

Lan Yi snapped out of her thoughts. She wasn’t heartbroken—this path was her own choice, and she could face everything calmly.  

“It’s nothing,” Lan Yi said. “The rain was heavy on the way back. He didn’t notice.”  

Cui Cui couldn’t relax. After hesitating for a while, she lowered her voice and asked, “Madam, did you know something would happen… Is that why you refused to take me along to the temple?”  

Lan Yi’s eyes flickered slightly.  

After all, day and night together made a difference. Someone as shrewd as Yang Wen Xu remained oblivious to what she had done, yet this simple-minded maid had sensed something amiss.  

But she couldn’t tell Cui Cui. The less Cui Cui knew, the better. If things came to light, Yang Wen Xu wouldn’t be too harsh on a servant who was kept in the dark.  

“How could I have known? Reverence Heaven Temple was sealed off because of the assassination attempt on Prince Yi,” Lan Yi told half the truth. “Where would I hear about such things? And I certainly couldn’t have been the one to attempt Prince Yi’s life.”  

Cui Cui believed this and nodded quickly.  

Though she was a maid from an official’s household, she had never encountered any high-ranking nobles. Figures like Prince Yi seemed to live in the heavens—whether good or bad, they should have nothing to do with people like them.  

“Madam, then how—how could it be…” Cui Cui stammered, unsure how to phrase it, before whispering, “Did Prince Yi… wrong you?”  

Lan Yi: “…It was just an accident.”  

Seeing Cui Cui still staring at her expectantly, she had no choice but to add another excuse, “He mistook me for someone else.”  

The explanation wasn’t particularly clever and lacked details, but after hesitating, Cui Cui nodded and didn’t press further—partly because she inexplicably felt too afraid to, and partly because she didn’t want to embarrass Lan Yi.  

Let it be a misunderstanding, something to be left in the past.  

“Where is the master?” Lan Yi changed the subject.  

A confrontation between her and Yang Wen Xu was inevitable—she knew that.  

Cui Cui wasn’t sure and went out to ask. When she returned, she reported, “I heard guests arrived at the front courtyard. The master went to receive them.”  

**  

Yang Wen Xu entertained guests for a long time.  

It seemed that after one group left, another arrived.  

This news was brought by Aunt Zhou, who came to visit Lan Yi and casually mentioned the happenings in the front courtyard.  

“…It was Third Master Li and Madam Zhao. They went to Reverence Heaven Temple to relax, but who would’ve thought they’d run into such trouble? Of course they were terrified. Though they’ve been released now, their whole family is unsettled. Somehow they found out someone from our household was also caught up in it and came to ask questions.”  

Lan Yi’s expression remained unchanged, but Cui Cui, feeling uneasy, blurted out, “What’s there to ask? We just returned to Qingzhou and know even less than they do. Since they’ve been cleared of suspicion, they should just stay quiet and keep to themselves.”

Aunt Zhou smiled. “Who says it isn’t so? Yet they insist that since the master holds an official position, his news should be more reliable than theirs. The old master took it upon himself to invite them in, and the master couldn’t refuse to see them, so he had no choice but to go and make polite conversation.”

She continued, “Is the mistress feeling better? Yesterday when I heard she had returned, I came to visit, only to see her suddenly collapse—it gave me quite a fright. Honestly, even if ten thousand people were to attempt an assassination on Prince Yi, our mistress would never be one of them. She’s suffered for no reason at all.”

Cui Cui was pleased to hear this and quickly chimed in, “Exactly! All that messy business has nothing to do with our mistress. Oh, and we must thank you, Aunt Zhou, for helping to support her when she fell.”

“Oh, it was nothing.”

Aunt Zhou waved it off as if it were of no consequence. She hadn’t come empty-handed today—she had brought a gift: a bolt of snow-white satin. As she unfolded it to show Lan Yi, she unconsciously moved closer, her voice dropping to a whisper that seemed to slip right into Lan Yi’s ear: “That dress of yours was ruined, surely unwearable now. This satin is pure and delicate, perfect for making you a new gown—”

Cui Cui’s face changed dramatically.

Lan Yi, who had hardly spoken a word, lifted her gaze from the satin and raised her head.

Author’s Note:

Wishing everyone a happy Mid-Autumn Festival—relax and enjoy the holiday!