Chapter 19

In the side courtyard.

Consort Jiang was feeling restless.

Her eldest daughter, Yang Hui, came over coquettishly to ask, “Auntie, where’s Father? I haven’t seen him for two days. I miss him.”

Consort Jiang forced a smile. “Your father is busy. Be good and go play by yourself.”

Yang Hui pouted unhappily. “There’s nothing fun at home, and we can’t go out either.”

Still young, she could sense the unusual atmosphere at home but didn’t dwell on it or understand worry. Innocently, she asked, “Auntie, I heard Mama Zhou talking with someone, saying they didn’t know if you were the one who poisoned Mother’s medicine. What does that mean? Mother has been sick for so long, and she’s always taking medicine.”

Consort Jiang shuddered. Mama Zhou was the wet nurse of her youngest son, Rui Ge’er, and one of her own people.

If even her own people harbored such suspicions—what about others?

Yang Wen Xu hadn’t come for two days, leaving early and returning late, resting directly in the front courtyard without even stepping past the Second Gate. Did he suspect her too?

But she truly hadn’t done it!

Consort Jiang felt utterly wronged.

The Inner Courtyard had its own ways—winning a man’s heart required patience and finesse. Murder was something she had never considered; it was too depraved, and she believed herself incapable of such a thing.

After coaxing her daughter away, Consort Jiang couldn’t sit still. She felt she had to do something, but before she could decide, a maid bowed at the door. “The Master is here.”

Consort Jiang brightened and hurried to greet him.

Yang Wen Xu entered and immediately dismissed the maid. “Leave us.”

As the maid left, Consort Jiang sensed trouble and tensed. Without hesitation, she blurted, “Master, I didn’t—”

She didn’t beat around the bush, convinced of her own innocence and unafraid.

Yang Wen Xu seemed to read her mind, cutting her off. “I know.”

Consort Jiang’s heart slowly settled.

Relieved and grateful, she thought, *I wasn’t wrong about him. The man I chose has been kind even to his estranged wife—how could he wrong me over mere gossip?*

Yang Wen Xu took the seat of honor. Consort Jiang served him tea, but he didn’t drink. Assuming he was troubled by the recent turmoil at home, she softened her voice to comfort him. “Master, no matter how difficult things are, there’s always a solution. Haven’t you already found out that Yang Sheng was the one who bought that deadly thing? Just punish him severely and find a way to bring the Mistress back. That should suffice.”

She prided herself on her understanding. Of course, she knew Yang Sheng acted on Master Yang’s orders, but she didn’t mention it—sacrificing Yang Sheng’s life was enough to settle the matter without causing further strife.

The teacup sat beside his hand, warm to the touch, but Yang Wen Xu moved his hand away, avoiding it. At the same time, he made up his mind and met Consort Jiang’s gaze. “It’s not enough.”

Consort Jiang offered another suggestion. “Right, there’s also that boy who prepared the medicine. He’s involved too.”

Yang Wen Xu repeated, “It’s not enough.”

“…” The warmth in Consort Jiang’s heart chilled. She realized what was coming but refused to believe it.

Yang Wen Xu shattered her illusions. “Ru Niang, you’ll have to bear some hardship—go to the countryside.”

The countryside had originally been Lu Lanyi’s fate.

Consort Jiang felt her entire body turn cold. *How did it come full circle to me?*

She didn’t want to go. Leaving was easy, but with such a crime hanging over her head, when would she ever return? And if, by the time she came back, Yang Wen Xu had someone else by his side—which was almost certain, given that even while his legal wife was still alive, that shameless younger daughter of the Zhao family had already set her sights on the position, let alone a mere concubine like her—what would she do then?  

“It was the master—” Under Yang Wen Xu’s suddenly sharpened gaze, Consort Jiang reluctantly continued, “It was the master who poisoned the madam. The master was dissatisfied with the madam for disgracing the family and wanted to cleanse the household. If we insist on this, the matter won’t harm the master.”  

The same crime, if committed by Yang Sheng, would warrant death by a thousand cuts; if pinned on Consort Jiang, it would cost her life. Yet the true culprit, Master Yang, might not have to pay a heavy price—because he was the head of the Yang family, with the natural authority to govern his household. In rural areas, those caught in adultery could be dragged straight to the river and drowned in a pig cage, and the authorities usually wouldn’t intervene.  

*Bang.*  

Yang Wen Xu suddenly slammed the table. Consort Jiang jumped in fright as he pressed her sharply: “And then let the world spread rumors that my wife committed adultery during mourning, and my father poisoned his own daughter-in-law?!”  

Consort Jiang: “…”  

She was speechless. Yang Wen Xu was truly furious—in all her years as his concubine, this was the first time she had seen him lose his composure to such an extent.  

“But the madam didn’t—” she stammered in panic.  

“So my father wrongfully murdered his daughter-in-law,” Yang Wen Xu said coldly.  

Consort Jiang could say no more.  

This was a deadlock. Yang Wen Xu was a refined Hanlin scholar, untainted by worldly affairs. At this stage, the most important thing was to cultivate his reputation and dignity. With such chaos in his household, how could he remain unblemished? How could he maintain his prestige?  

He had already lost three years due to his mother’s mourning, forfeiting the position of Left Vice Director of the Left Spring Workshop of the Court of the Imperial Stud that had been within his grasp. Now, with so many scandals erupting during the mourning period, how could he ever compete again for a position in the imperial court?  

“Ru Niang, I know this is unfair to you.”  

Yang Wen Xu forced his voice to soften as he laid out these points one by one. The more Consort Jiang listened, the more despondent she became. She tried to defend herself again, but Yang Wen Xu spoke without pause, leaving her no room to interject. At last, she understood—his decision was made, and it would not change.  

And no matter how unwilling she was, she could not resist.  

After so many years in the Yang household, she had been content in the confines of the inner courtyard, never imagining that one day she would be weighed against Yang Wen Xu’s future. And now, she realized with sudden clarity how light her own weight was—how easily she could be cast aside.  

Yang Wen Xu finally said, “Rest assured, before I return to the capital after the mourning period, I will come to fetch you.”  

Consort Jiang thought dazedly that these words sounded familiar. Before Lu Lanyi left, he had made the same promise.  

Was this retribution in this very life?  

Lu Lanyi—  

Was she even still alive?  

Consort Jiang’s heart was filled with bitterness and resentment, and she nearly screamed aloud: *If you’ve become a vengeful ghost, why not aim your vengeance properly? This time, it wasn’t me!*  

**  

Lan Yi was still alive.  

Day by day passed, and she had now stayed in Prince Yi’s residence for half a month.  

During these two weeks, her consciousness drifted between clarity and delirium, with the latter prevailing most of the time. At one point, her condition worsened to the point where she could neither swallow medicine nor recognize anyone. Sometimes her eyes were open, staring blankly, and only when Cui Cui spoke to her did it become clear that she was completely unaware of her surroundings.

Cui Cui was so heartbroken that she hid in a corner and cried her heart out. After that, she never mentioned going home to Jian Su again. In Prince Yi’s Residence, the on-call skilled physicians and the readily available good medicine were the only things keeping Lan Yi alive. If they left, she might not even make it to the Yang family’s doorstep.

As for why Prince Yi’s Residence had suddenly become so charitable, Cui Cui neither knew nor cared. Such considerations were for the living—before that, survival came first.

The residence had allocated them a courtyard in the northeast corner. The buildings faced south, with a main house, side rooms, and wing rooms totaling over ten spaces—quite spacious, yet rarely visited. In all these days, apart from Imperial Physician Meng, Cui Cui had only seen Jian Su and another maid named Bao Pu, who took shifts with Jian Su.

Two lush gardenia trees grew in the courtyard. As the Dragon Boat Festival approached, they were in full bloom. Amid the glossy green leaves, clusters of pristine white flowers burst forth, their vigorous blossoms enveloping the entire courtyard in an elegant, serene fragrance.

Perhaps inspired by this vitality, Lan Yi finally began to recover amidst the fragrance.

One day, she was even able to sit briefly on the soft couch outside, supported by her maids.

“These flowers smell wonderful,” Lan Yi murmured, gazing at the blooming trees.

She felt as though she had been reborn.

“They do,” Cui Cui grinned foolishly, overjoyed.

Ling Zi looked up at the trees and chirped brightly, “I’ll pick one for Madam to wear in her hair.”

Lan Yi smiled, about to decline, but Ling Zi was quick. She plucked a flower and ran over, only to freeze when she realized Lan Yi hadn’t styled her hair into a bun—there was nowhere to place it.

“Give it to me,” Lan Yi said, reaching out to take it.

After sitting quietly for a while longer, Lan Yi felt her spirits were still strong. She turned to Jian Su, who stood nearby, and said, “I wish to see His Highness. Please inform him.”

Cui Cui’s smile faded. She grew nervous.

Lan Yi’s expression remained calm. She owed Prince Yi’s Residence a debt, but she couldn’t stay here indefinitely without clarity.

There had to be an explanation.

Jian Su hesitated briefly. As a servant of the residence, she wasn’t obliged to follow Lan Yi’s orders. Yet, for some reason, she didn’t dismiss her as she had Cui Cui. Instead, she bowed and replied, “As you wish.”

Jian Su left and didn’t return for some time. Cui Cui grew uneasy. “Madam—” she started, then faltered, unsure what to say. Confined to this courtyard, she hadn’t even stepped beyond its gates. The world outside—the residence’s scenery, the state of Qingzhou beyond—was a mystery to her, as if she’d been cut off from reality.

Lan Yi stared absently at the flower in her hand.

She, too, didn’t know what awaited her.

But she was certain Prince Yi wouldn’t harm them. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have gone to such lengths to save her.

In truth, life in Prince Yi’s Residence had been unexpectedly peaceful. Hovering between life and death, she hadn’t thought of the Yang family or the Lu family. With no disturbances and only the simple task of taking medicine, she felt her recovery owed much to this tranquil, unburdened state of mind.

Lan Yi lifted her head.

Perhaps it was the overwhelming fragrance of the courtyard’s flowers, or the warmth of the sunlight on her skin—everything around her seemed bright and beautiful. For the first time, Lan Yi felt that living might not be such a terrible choice after all.

She no longer cared much about who was right or wrong, the retributions of kindness and grudges, or the current state of the Yang family. Yang Wen Xu, Jiang Ru, Master Yang, even Master Lu—she would leave them all in the past, in her previous life. Now, she wanted to try moving forward.  

“Cui Cui,” she said, “after we return, I want a divorce from Yang Wen Xu.”  

Cui Cui’s nervousness was startled away. “—What?!”  

“Ah, this—”  

She continued to stammer, while Lan Yi simply watched her quietly, a faint smile on her lips. Her bloodless face contrasted with the gardenia in her hand—she seemed more fragile than the flower.  

Thinking of those people and events in the Yang family, Cui Cui steeled her heart. “Alright!”