Chapter 1: Eldest Sister
 

In the twentieth year of Yongde, winter.

Snow fell heavily from the sky.

A piercing cold wind howled straight into the dilapidated woodshed.

Shen Tang, her whole body frozen stiff, looked even paler than before. At the corner of her lips curled a faintly mocking smile.

Last autumn, the Western Liang forces invaded. Prince Jingyang led the army to war and, tragically, fell in battle.

The next day, his heir, Xie Guimo, inherited the title and immediately requested to be dispatched to the frontier. Brave and battle-hardened, he crushed the enemy at every turn, forcing Western Liang into retreat, surrender, and a plea for peace. Yet on his triumphant return, just as victory was in sight, he suddenly died on the road.

As his widow, Shen Tang had not removed a single garment in mourning. She kept vigil by the spirit tablet for three days and nights, grief-stricken to the point of collapse. But rather than being helped back to her quarters, she had been thrown into this damp, icy woodshed.

She had already been locked in here for an entire night.

She and Xie Guimo had been married for four years. Their relationship had been distant and strained. Even the child conceived by accident had not survived. He had loved her Eldest Sister deeply, never took a concubine, and had no children. Now that he was dead, there was no heir to inherit the title, and the noble rank would inevitably fall into someone else’s hands.

But that title was already as good as theirs. Shen Tang posed no threat to them. Though her Father was gone, the Pingyuan Marquis Manor still stood strong. They would not sit idly by while their legitimate daughter was treated like this. Her Eldest Sister was the Empress—Mother of the Nation—beloved by the Emperor. How dare these people from Prince Jingyang’s residence act so brazenly?

A wave of unease surged in Shen Tang’s heart.

Creak—

The rotten door to the woodshed was pushed open.

The bone-chilling wind swept in, slicing against the skin like blades of ice. Shen Tang looked at the visitor, startled at first—then, more than that, she was overjoyed.

“Eldest Sister, why are you here at Prince Jingyang’s residence?”

The woman who entered wore a magnificent phoenix-embroidered robe. It was her twin sister, born of the same mother—Shen Juan.

Shen Juan looked down at Shen Tang from above, her expression devoid of the deep sisterly affection she once wore. “Prince Jingyang rendered great service to the realm, securing the border and easing His Majesty’s worries. Yet he died before he could return to the capital and receive his rewards. I could not bear the thought, so I petitioned on your behalf to be buried with him—to accompany him on his final journey. His Majesty approved. I’ve come to see you off.”

The joy on Shen Tang’s face froze, her expression turning to disbelief. “You want me to be buried with him? Eldest Sister, have you gone mad? I am your blood sister!”

Shen Juan chuckled as if she’d just heard an amusing joke. “If you were truly my blood sister, of course I wouldn’t have the heart to do it.”

Shen Tang’s face drained of color. Her voice trembled in confusion and fear. “What do you mean by that?”

“You really can’t figure out something so simple?”

“Well, since today is the day you die, I may as well let you die with clarity.”

A triumphant gleam shone on Shen Juan’s face. “Back then, Mother—no, I should call her Aunt—she truly did give birth to a pair of twins, a dragon and a phoenix. But no one believed her. In the end, she died of grief.”

“Your real Second Brother was buried alive the moment he was born…”

“And your Big Brother, who vanished at the lantern festival when he was just four—that wasn’t an accident either. Though, he was lucky. He actually survived.”

Each word stabbed straight into Shen Tang’s chest like a dagger. Her eyes flamed red with rage and sorrow.

If these words had come from anyone else, Shen Tang wouldn’t have believed a single one.

But they had come from her Eldest Sister’s own mouth—there was no room left for doubt.

Back then, when their Mother was pregnant with her, she suffered from severe morning sickness and couldn’t even step outside. That year, the capital held a grand lantern festival. Her Big Brother had gone to visit their maternal family and attended the festival with his cousins, only to disappear in the crowd, never to be seen again.

Their Mother was devastated by the loss. Stricken with grief, she nearly miscarried. She spent months bedridden to protect the child in her womb. But after finally giving birth, she had flown into a frenzy, trying to strangle the baby girl she had fought so hard to bring into the world, insisting she had given birth to a pair of twins—a boy and a girl—and that her son had been stolen and switched at birth.

But no one in the Pingyuan Marquis Manor believed her. They all thought she had gone mad from sorrow over her lost son. Father, heartbroken, confined her to her chambers, forbidding her to step outside again. In the end, she died bitter and broken when Shen Tang was only two years old.

If not for Shen Juan saying it with her own lips, Shen Tang would never have dared believe her Mother’s desperate words were true—that someone would actually have the audacity to steal a newborn under Father’s very nose, that even her Big Brother’s disappearance had been part of their scheme.

These people were truly heartless—vicious beyond belief!

Shen Tang nearly lunged at Shen Juan, wanting nothing more than to tear her apart, but she forced herself to hold back. Her voice shook as she demanded, “My Big Brother is still alive? Who is he?!”

She knew now—there was no escaping her fate today.

But still—she had to know her Big Brother’s fate.

Yet some people delighted in tormenting others. The more desperate Shen Tang was to know, the less Shen Juan would tell her. “So eager to find out who your Big Brother is? You’ll never guess.”

“Don’t worry, Eldest Sister will be sending him to reunite with the rest of your family soon.”

Shen Tang’s eyes were bloodshot, her voice hoarse as she screamed, “How many people have you murdered?!”

Shen Juan admired the fresh crimson lacquer on her nails, her smile flirtatious and carefree. She twirled her delicate hand and said lightly, “Too many have died by these hands. Let me think… who else was there…”

She actually pretended to ponder it seriously, but the words that followed came straight from hell. “Father, Grandfather, our cousin, and that baby of yours—nearly full term, wasn’t it…”

With nearly every name uttered, Shen Tang’s face turned several shades paler.

These were her kin—her flesh and blood.

And when she thought of the child she had carried for eight months, lost after a single fall, the last remnants of her reason were consumed by hatred. She lunged at Shen Juan, desperate to avenge her Father and her child. But her body was too weak—she couldn’t even rise from the ground and collapsed with a heavy thud.

A bitter, broken laugh escaped her lips. Shen Tang wiped away her tears and stared at Shen Juan.
“Prince Jingyang… was he one of your victims too?”

“He loved you deeply—how could you bear to do it?!”

Shen Juan burst out laughing. She crouched down and seized Shen Tang’s chin in a cruel grip. “My dear little sister, which of your eyes saw Prince Jingyang loving me deeply, hmm? But I must say, I truly ought to thank him. If he hadn’t pushed me toward Prince Qi back then, I wouldn’t be basking in the glory I have today.”

Shen Tang struggled, but Shen Juan’s fingers clamped down like iron, the hate in her eyes manifesting in the force she used—her grip nearly shattered Shen Tang’s jaw.

“Let me tell you something. The one who killed Prince Jingyang wasn’t me—it was you.”

“He was wary of everyone, but not you. That sachet you gave him? He carried it with him day and night. And that’s precisely why—exposed to poison every single day—he collapsed from its effects on the way back to the capital.”

“He was still thinking of you when he died. Poison coursing through his veins, he insisted on writing a letter to release you from your marriage. And you, fool that you are, believed the person he loved was me. So blind, so stupid—what was it about you that he ever liked?”

Jealousy twisted Shen Juan’s exquisitely made-up face into something monstrous.

From the moment she received news of Prince Jingyang’s death, Shen Tang had suspected foul play. But never had she imagined he died like this—by her own hand, unwittingly delivering his killer.

She and Xie Guimo had never gotten along as a couple. The year had barely begun when they had fought before he left for the battlefield.

Two months ago, Xie Guimo had achieved a great victory on the battlefield, with reports of his successes flooding in. Shen Juan, knowing there was no correspondence between Shen Tang and Xie Guimo, had pointed out that, as a general, he should have letters from his wife like all other commanders—yet there had been nothing. This could harm his reputation. Shen Juan suggested that, if Shen Tang didn’t know what to write, she could just embroider a sachet and send it.

Though Shen Tang privately believed that Xie Guimo wouldn’t care for something like that, she still listened to Shen Juan’s advice and embroidered the sachet.

But Xie Guimo had never shown her any kindness. How could he possibly have kept the sachet

She refused to believe it!

This had to be some kind of trick!

She stared at Shen Juan, wanting to clarify everything, but Shen Juan was no longer willing to say another word.

“Send her on her way.”

The two old women slowly approached Shen Tang, white silks in hand, advancing step by step.