Song Luan let out a strained laugh, opening her mouth to explain, “No, no, mother, I’m doing just fine.”

Aside from those final days when the poison had seeped into her bones, leaving her writhing in agony, barely clinging to life, the original owner of this body had actually lived quite well up until her death. Zhao Nanyu had never deprived her of fine clothes, good food, or a comfortable home.

But Madam Lin’s face might as well have had the words ‘I don’t believe you’ written all over it. Rather than easing her mother’s worries, Song Luan’s words only made things worse.

From the very beginning, Madam Lin had opposed her daughter’s marriage to Zhao Nanyu. Unfortunately, her objections had meant little—once the master of the house made a decision, there was no room for discussion.

Madam Lin came from a wealthy merchant family in Jiangnan. She had grown up surrounded by silks and jewels, dining on the finest delicacies. Marrying Song Luan’s father, Song Lian, a high-ranking court official, had not been a step down for her.

For a merchant’s daughter, marrying into a prestigious official’s household was already considered quite fortunate. Over the years, Song Lian had treated her well enough, showing no favoritism between his children and ensuring they were all well cared for. Madam Lin had never lacked money either—her personal quarters were filled with gold, silver, and jewels. She had always believed that wealth and power were life’s greatest assets, and she had instilled that same belief in Song Luan.

Though not a cruel woman herself, Madam Lin had played no small part in shaping Song Luan’s spoiled and materialistic nature. She had cherished her daughter like a precious jewel, never once raising her hand against her or even uttering a harsh word. Even when Song Luan was in the wrong, Madam Lin could twist the truth until it became someone else’s fault.

Anyone could be blamed—anyone except her daughter. Mistakes were possible for others, but never for Song Luan.

So even when Song Luan and Zhao Nanyu had been caught in a scandal years ago, Madam Lin had remained firm in her belief: Zhao Nanyu had seduced her daughter. He must have coveted Ah Luan’s beauty but, knowing he could never win her through proper means, had resorted to a despicable scheme.

And who was Zhao Nanyu, really?

Everyone in the capital knew, his mother had been a courtesan. If not for the fact that Third Master Zhao had so few heirs, this illegitimate son might never have been acknowledged by the Zhao family at all.

Yes, he had earned a scholarly title, but what good was it? Among his peers who had passed the imperial exams, every single one had found greater success than him while his so-called achievement was hardly worth mentioning.

Zhao Nanyu slowly loosened the grip he had around Song Luan’s waist. He seemed well aware of Madam Lin’s deep dislike for him, but he still smiled at her with his usual good-natured ease and said, “I’ll take Shige back to his room to sleep.”

Madam Lin couldn’t have wished for anything more than for him to leave. She nodded and gave a perfunctory hum of acknowledgment.

In previous years, Shige had always accompanied them back to the Song family estate. Sometimes, Zhao Nanyu would be called away by his father-in-law for a conversation, leaving him unable to look after the boy. But Song Luan had never been the patient type when it came to children—she would simply lock Shige in her old bedroom, the one she had lived in before marriage, toss him a few trinkets to play with, and forbid him from going outside.

Every single time, Zhao Nanyu would return to find his son sitting in that room, on the verge of tears, his little face full of grievances. Because of this, he was more than familiar with her old quarters—he could find his way there without anyone needing to guide him.

As soon as he was gone, Song Luan let out a relieved sigh. At least now, she wouldn’t have to worry about him overhearing her mother’s sharp words and holding yet another grudge against her family.

Madam Lin pulled Song Luan into her own room, her eyes brimming with tears as she gazed at her daughter. “Ah Luan, you must have suffered so much in the Zhao family. You’ve even learned to swallow your pride.”

Since when had her daughter ever spoken so meekly? The way she had just humbly said she was doing “just fine” was entirely out of character. Madam Lin was convinced—Zhao Nanyu must have bullied and coerced her into submission.

Sniffling, she wiped away her tears and opened a cabinet, pulling out a small wooden chest. When she lifted the lid, a dazzling array of gold, silver, and jewels glimmered inside, stacked high.

Song Luan, who had spent the past few days in a rural village with nothing but the bare essentials, couldn’t help but swallow hard at the sight. “This…”

But before she could finish, Madam Lin spoke first. “Take some of it, in secret. Spend it however you like. I have nothing else to give you—only money. Use it freely, don’t hold back. And don’t be afraid of Zhao Nanyu. If it comes to it, just divorce him. We’ll find someone better.”

In this era, society was relatively open-minded—divorce and remarriage weren’t all that unusual. But with her tainted reputation, who knew what kind of man she’d end up marrying next?

More importantly, with Zhao Nanyu’s vindictive nature, there was no way he would ever let her live in peace.

Still, in front of her mother, Song Luan had to maintain the same arrogant persona as before. “Mother, as if I’d be afraid of him! If he dares mistreat me, I’ll be the first to make sure he regrets it.”

Even as the words left her mouth, she felt a little weak inside. This kind of bold talk was only possible when Zhao Nanyu wasn’t around—just empty bravado to reassure her mother.

Madam Lin considered her words and found them reasonable. After all, Ah Luan had never lost a fight or an argument since she was a child. Surely, even Zhao Nanyu wouldn’t dare treat her poorly. But despite this, she still worried her daughter might suffer grievances. With that thought, she scooped up a handful of jewelry from the box and stuffed them into Song Luan’s arms. “Take all of these! My Ah Luan is so beautiful—she should always be dressed up and looking her best.”

Song Luan quietly accepted the jewelry, grinning from ear to ear. “Mother, you’re the best.” Then, after a brief pause, she added with a smirk, “Men are all worthless.”

Madam Lin beamed with pride and affection, stroking her daughter’s face. “Is there anything you want to eat? I’ll make it for you myself.”

“I want lotus seed soup.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll make it for you right away.”

Watching Madam Lin fuss over her, Song Luan couldn’t help but feel conflicted.

The original owner of this body had been truly doted on—her mother spoiled her without restraint, always giving her the best of everything and fulfilling her every wish.

But Song Luan also knew how this story ended. After her daughter was burned to death, Madam Lin had been devastated. The grief was too much for her to bear, and in the end, she fell ill and passed away in sorrow.

Madam Lin scrutinized her daughter’s appearance from every angle, still dissatisfied with how plainly she was dressed. Unwilling to let it slide, she forcibly tucked two more golden hairpins into her coiffure and slipped a fine jade bracelet onto her wrist before finally relenting.

“Now this is beauty.”

“Thank you, Mother.”

After chatting for a while, Madam Lin finally remembered her promise and bustled off to the kitchen to make lotus seed soup. The moment she left, Song Luan’s stiff posture relaxed slightly.

She had been on edge the entire time, afraid she might slip up and break character. In front of the male lead, the original owner’s persona—spoiled, vicious, and thoroughly detestable—had already crumbled beyond repair because survival came first. But with everyone else, she couldn’t afford to drop the act.

Playing the role of a pampered, willful young lady wasn’t difficult. She figured her performance just now had been passable.

As soon as Madam Lin was out of sight, Song Luan decided to check on Shige and Zhao Nanyu. She knew that Zhao Nanyu had definitely overheard her mother’s passive-aggressive remarks. He wouldn’t forget them easily, and chances were, he’d hold her responsible for them too.

It had taken so much effort to earn even a sliver of goodwill from him—she wasn’t about to let it go to waste.

There was just one problem.

Song Luan was completely unfamiliar with the layout of the Song estate. And, as luck would have it, she had an abysmal sense of direction. After wandering aimlessly in circles for what felt like an eternity, she was still hopelessly lost.

Finally, she spotted a figure up ahead. Just as she was about to call out and ask for directions, the person turned around on their own.

It was a young man, dressed in simple blue robes. Handsome, with delicate features, he had a soft and almost fragile air about him—someone who seemed easy to take advantage of.

The moment he saw her, his eyes lit up with unmistakable joy. Without hesitation, he sprinted toward her, his face overflowing with delight and affection.

“Ah Luan,” he called, voice filled with deep emotion.

Song Luan’s brows furrowed, and she instinctively took a few steps back.

Who… who the hell was this?!

From his tone, he sounded exactly like some long-lost lover of the original owner.

Not good. Very not good.

Every instinct screamed at her to run.

Before she had any time to react, the man grabbed her wrist.

“Ah Luan, I… I just knew you still loved me!”

Song Luan: “???”

The man looked like he had a million things to say, hesitating several times before finally speaking. “If I hadn’t received your letter, I never would’ve known you were suffering so much. Ah Luan, just wait for me—I’ll convince my parents, and then you can come with me, alright?”

Song Luan stood frozen, as if she had just been struck by lightning. It took her a long moment to find her voice again. “I’m married…”

At her words, the man’s grip on her wrist tightened, his expression darkening with resentment. “Then divorce him! Didn’t you say you hated him?! Before your wedding, you told me yourself that you didn’t want to marry him! If not for my parents refusing, the one who should have married you back then was me!”

With that, Song Luan immediately figured out who he was—this had to be He Run, the young master of the He family, the man the original owner was once engaged to.

He Run’s father was the emperor’s brother-in-law, his aunt was the empress, and his mother was a princess. On top of that, he had two older brothers, all of whom were influential and powerful figures—not people to mess with.

Yet somehow, in a family full of political sharks, they had managed to raise… him. A naive, lovestruck fool.

Back then, all it took was a little manipulation from the original owner, and he was utterly enchanted. Their engagement had only happened because He Run had cried and begged for it. But the moment the scandal between Song Luan and Zhao Nanyu broke out, the marriage had been called off.

Now, standing here in this mess, Song Luan felt a headache coming on.

What kind of ridiculous situation was this?!

She pulled her wrist free and spoke in a gentle, patient tone. “Young Master He, just forget the past, will you? I’m doing well now, so you really don’t have to—”

But He Run was convinced she was only holding back out of fear. He immediately cut her off. “Stop lying to me! I won’t let you suffer in that Zhao family hellhole any longer! You wrote in your letter—you said you still loved me!”

His expression was filled with hurt as he continued, “I even wrote back to you a few days ago. You should know by now—I haven’t forgotten you, not once, in these four years.”

Song Luan was completely lost. What letter?! She had never received anything!

She had no interest in getting tangled up with another man and tried once more to distance herself. “Young Master He, I have a husband and a child. I am not the woman for you. You will surely meet someone better in the future.”

He Run’s eyes were red, on the verge of tears. His hands clutched her slender wrist tightly. “I don’t care! Ah Luan, we love each other! You never wanted to marry Zhao Nanyu in the first place—I don’t blame you for what happened! We can start over, can’t we?”

Song Luan felt her temper rising. Why was this man so damn stubborn?!

Since reasoning didn’t work, she switched tactics. If softness wouldn’t get through to him, then she’d hit him where it hurt.

Lifting her chin with an air of arrogance, she spoke slowly, deliberately, her tone laced with mockery. “You think I love you? Then by your logic, I must love quite a few men. One pair of hands wouldn’t be enough to count them all. As long as a man in the capital is rich and powerful, I like him. That’s all it ever was—I wanted your family name, not you.”

The moment she finished speaking, a quiet, almost imperceptible chuckle drifted from behind a nearby pillar.

At the same time, a slow, creeping malice began to unfurl from the shadows.

Zhao Nanyu’s lips curled into a silent smirk.

He hadn’t been hiding for long, and he hadn’t caught much of their conversation—just the last two sentences.

So that’s how it is.

Anyone would do, as long as they had wealth and power.

Well… wealth and power truly were wonderful things.

With them, he could ensure that Song Luan would never step foot outside her door for the rest of her life.

His pitch-black eyes locked onto He Run’s hand—still wrapped around her wrist. A deep, ruthless malice flickered to life in his bloodshot gaze.

=^_^=

Author has something to say: Ah Luan: Thank god my husband didn’t hear that—WAAH! 😭😭😭

Ah Yu: Heh… heh… heh… 😈