She didn’t care if Fu Zhuangxue was still with the Crown Prince.

Even in her past life, upon discovering their secret relationship, the person she hated the most was Li Jinghuan.

In plain terms, if a man wants to be fickle, there would be others like Ah Xue, Ah Yun, Ah Yu, or Ah Yue.

There’s no need to set up a chastity pedestal and push everything onto the women, making it all so nauseating.

Of course, Fu Zhuangxue wasn’t entirely innocent.

As a woman herself, Zanying couldn’t understand in her previous life.

If she still couldn’t see the hint of manipulation behind Fu Zhuangxue’s pitiable demeanor in this life, then she would have lived in vain.

“But you insist on parading in front of me, using this ploy to gain sympathy,” Zanying said with a faint smile. “Alright, Madam Fu, if you are truly sincere in your apology, then tell me how you walked from the city to the mountain and back. If you missed a single step, it’s not considered genuine.”

If she wanted to be pitied, then let her be pitied thoroughly.

If she sought to climb high and become a favored concubine, fine.

Zanying was eager to see if, beneath the overturned nest, there were any unbroken eggs.

Fu Zhuangxue, her eyes red, was stunned into silence.

Fu Zean, unable to tolerate it any longer, said, “Ah Ying, where has your compassionate heart gone? Can’t you consider that your sister is an orphaned child?”

He cut himself off.

Fu Zhuangxue was an illegitimate child.

So was Fu Zanying.

At least Fu Zhuangxue had her mother to care for her as she grew up, while Zanying’s parents, Fu Zixu and Tang Su, had not realized Tang Su was pregnant when Fu Zixu went off to war.

By the time Tang Su showed symptoms of pregnancy, Fu Zixu had been at the border for three months.

Even the name “Zanying” was one Fu Zixu and Tang Su decided upon in a letter from home, because they didn’t know if the child would be a boy or girl.

“Zanying,” meaning “the sound of bells and drums,” was a good name that could be used for either gender.

The couple, one buried in the northern territory and the other lost at sea, left behind only a tomb for their daughter, visited every year, where they were buried together.

The term “illegitimate child” — was it meant to pierce anyone’s heart?

“A’ying.”

“A’ying.”

“Zean.”

Several voices overlapped, not knowing who regretted speaking out of turn or who wanted to offer comfort.

Zanying clasped her palms, hiding all her emotions behind her calm eyes.

She spoke to Fu Zhuangxue with as much calmness as she had shown before, and upon hearing Fu Zean’s words, her calmness remained.

It seemed to her that showing any more emotion towards these people was a waste of her feelings.

“Mr. Fu,” she asked, “do you believe in the concept of retribution in this world?”

Fu Zean was taken aback, uneasily responding, “A’ying, what do you call me?”

“Do you believe in retribution in this world?”

Her voice was soft, perhaps because it was the first time she had spoken so much at once, and her throat began to sound hoarse as she repeated the question.

Fu Zean thought Zanying was referring to her oath in Huaylin Garden yesterday.

He glanced at the prince, whose face was not looking good.

Fu Zean, both officially and personally, did not want Zanying to lose this marriage.

He genuinely hoped for her well-being, as she was his sister and someone he had watched grow up.

However, due to Zanying’s drastic change in demeanor these days, he was unable to adapt, leading to the conflict.

Fu Zean reminded himself to be more patient and, thus, softened his expression, saying gently, “A’ying, it was just that the elder brother spoke out of turn. He didn’t mean it. Don’t take it to heart. Oaths to heaven, although they have been made since ancient times, are baseless. The classics advise against speaking of strange phenomena. Just forget what happened yesterday and return to the palace with the prince. No one will dare to fabricate anything against you. If there are any complaints, I will deal with them.”

“So,” Zanying interrupted him, “Mr. Fu doesn’t believe in retribution. Yet, yesterday in your home, when your sister swore an oath with me, you immediately interrupted her, afraid she would make a poisonous oath.”

Fu Zean’s mind went blank, forgetting what to say, staring at Zanying in astonishment.

It was not that he felt guilty; he had never paid attention to this point before.

“That’s not—” he tried to explain, “Ah Xue didn’t do anything wrong, she doesn’t need to swear an oath. As for your oath, it’s…”

“It’s what?” Zanying said, “Mr. Fu, who understands etiquette best, can you tell me if it’s proper for family members to freely enter and exit the palace?

Is it appropriate for unmarried girls to behave frivolously in front of their betrothed?

I abide by the rules in the palace, while her actions are seen as romantic and naive; I wear white at the banquet, and you frown, while she wears white, and you ignore or condone it.

On my coming-of-age day, I was criticized by my betrothed in front of the guests, leading to a broken engagement, and it was considered disregarding the greater good.

As the instigator, she only needed to shed a few tears to be considered innocent.

Her future and reputation must be preserved, while my dignity and reputation are of no concern.

I swear that if I break my oath, may I be like a broken hairpin. You say it’s baseless, and you don’t worry about me suffering retribution.

Yet you fear her oath might be harmful and quickly silence her to prevent it from affecting her fate.”

Fu Zean’s face turned pale. “No…”

He had thought that his role as the elder brother was to help persuade A’ying to return to the palace to calm the situation and protect his sister’s peace and smoothness, fulfilling his familial duty.

There was nothing wrong with this.

But after hearing Zanying’s words, he began to realize that comparing the two situations revealed a line of imbalance he had never noticed before.

Scholars emphasize self-cultivation.

Fu Zean could appear composed and graceful in public, but when it came to his own moral flaws, he felt like he was facing a severe threat.

He felt a cold shiver down his spine, stepping back a half-step as if struck by a blow.

“Mr. Fu, have you finally realized?”

The orange-red sunset, hanging at the peak of the western mountain, reflected in Zanying’s eyes.

Facing the mountains and trees, her gaze was as red as blood, her voice soft like exhaled mist.

“You’re not using the same standards for your two so-called sisters.”

“A’Ying.”

Even Fu Xiao was drenched in cold sweat, his face turning ashen as he stepped forward, trying to remedy the situation.

He knew well how adept his nephew was at debating, and never imagined that one day he would be left speechless by a young girl known for her reticence and modesty.

He didn’t believe these words were Zanying’s own.

Her nature was like her father’s: uncontentious and easygoing, always accommodating.

How could she harbor such deep grievances?

Fu Xiao’s gaze involuntarily shifted to the silent green canopy carriage.

In just a few moments, this old vice minister had conjured up several different political scenarios in his mind.

He wiped the sweat off his forehead with his sleeve, swallowed a dry gulp, and, unsure of the intentions of the capital’s Grand Marshal, decided to set politics aside.

He planned to use the topic of Sanlang to evoke this girl’s blood ties.

“Ah Ying, don’t be angry. If you truly don’t wish to see the second lady, I, your second uncle, will send her to a manor outside the capital tomorrow. How does that sound?” He sighed deeply. “We are family, and there should be no distance between us. Back in the day, your second uncle…”

But Zanying interrupted him, calling out, “Fu Zhongshu.”

Fu Xiao was taken aback. “What did you call me?”

Zanying lowered her thick eyelashes, feeling genuinely weary inside.

Do these high-ranking officials, so well-dressed outside, truly not understand human speech, or do they only feel pain when the knife cuts into them?

“I said yesterday, do not come to the young lady’s door again. I hope Fu Zhongshu, Fu Shushi, and all the Fu family will remember this firmly, firmly.”

Because this was just the beginning.

Just like in her past life, when the imperial physician first cut away a piece of flesh, she thought enduring a few moments of pain would heal with time.

She didn’t realize that it was only the beginning.

It was the same here.

Each cut, repeatedly festering, over two years—was it not a long, drawn-out form of execution?

In her most painful and helpless moments, she had desperately hoped that someone from the Fu family would come to save her, keep her company, or even just look at her.

But not one did.

Not one.

Zanying ignored the Fu family members and turned to look at Li Jinghuan, who had been silent for a long time, his expression as cold as a wooden puppet.

She asked one question, “Did my messenger deliver the message?”

The sunset had already set in the west, and the chaotic sky was like a murky pot of ink, carelessly spilled over, coating Li Jinghuan’s clothes and face, casting a shadow under his eyes.

This was the first sentence she had said to him today.

He still remembered her last words to him: “I came with my whole being, and I will leave with a whole being.”

At the time, he thought it was just an illusion, until he heard A’Ying’s accusations.

Only then did he realize how much she had suffered.

“Ah Ying, I know I was wrong yesterday.”

The echoes of those words still rang in his ears, his heart almost wrung dry.

If he truly didn’t care about her, he wouldn’t have waited for her here for an entire day.

Everyone said they were childhood sweethearts, but in fact, Li Jinghuan was four years older than Zanying.

Her first poems were taught to her by him, her calligraphy was learned under his guidance, he had held her when she was young, comforted her during thunderstorms, and last year, when she was distressed, he was the first to notice.

So it wasn’t an exaggeration to say that this woman was raised and watched over by him.

So how could she not be his?