Chapter 22

In the capital, where every inch of land is precious, the Pei family’s residence didn’t seem large to Jiang Wanrou. Compared to the Lu family’s estate, it was worlds apart. The small courtyard with three entrances couldn’t even compare to the rear courtyard of the Lu manor. However, it had a serene environment, with pine and cypress trees planted within, reflecting the refined taste of its owner.

When Jiang Wanrou arrived, a maid greeted her and said that the mistress was still dressing, asking the Madam to wait for a moment. Jiang Wanrou sat down to wait but suddenly felt something wasn’t quite right. She turned to Cui Zhu behind her and asked, “Last time… how long did she wait?”

Cui Zhu tilted her head and replied, “Around… two hours?”

“Madam Pei wouldn’t make you wait two hours, would she?”

Cui Zhu was startled, losing her composure. Lu Feng’s official position was as a supervisor of all officials. Whenever he attended social events, invitations were sent with great effort, and only after numerous requests did Jiang Wanrou grace someone with her presence. Cui Zhu never imagined that someone would dare to treat her mistress so rudely.

“This Madam Pei has gone too far!” Cui Zhu, filled with righteous indignation, blushed with anger on her round face. However, Jiang Wanrou merely smiled and said gently, “Alright, consider this a repayment for what happened last time. Next time, you must be more attentive and not neglect any guests.”

Her voice was soft and mild, not truly blaming Cui Zhu. After all, many people came to see her. If she met each person individually, she would be receiving visitors from dawn to midnight. Moreover, Jiang Wanying didn’t even bother to send an invitation.

She also came uninvited this time, but sitting and waiting for a few hours was hardly a challenge. If she lacked even this bit of patience, what right did she have to be the esteemed Lady of the Lu family?

Jiang Wanrou composed herself with calm and grace, quietly observing the surrounding furnishings. The reception hall for hosting guests was not large, yet the carved pearwood tables and chairs displayed fine craftsmanship. In the corners, a few pots of orchids adorned the shelves, and the walls were decorated with landscape paintings. One inscription read: “On holly trees hangs trumpet creeper; though flowers wither in the depths of winter, the tree remains evergreen.”

Although Jiang Wanrou was not particularly well-versed in art, even she could discern the excellence of the calligraphy. The characters were open and flowing, executed with an effortless grace resembling a free stream. The strokes danced like dragons and serpents, embodying an air of elegance and charm.

As she continued to admire the calligraphy, she suddenly thought of her son’s awkward and clumsy handwriting, which brought a sense of sorrow. Distracted by this, she lost interest in further appreciation of the artwork and shifted her thoughts to matters within the household. Fortunately, Jiang Wanying was not so petty about the delay. After about an hour, just as Jiang Wanrou’s stomach began to rumble with hunger, the hostess arrived fashionably late.

Her complexion looked slightly improved compared to the last time Jiang Wanrou saw her, though her face still appeared pallid and her tone was distant and cold. After giving Jiang Wanrou a cursory glance, she asked bluntly, “Why have you come?”

Jiang Wanrou was not angry, and her tone was equally indifferent. “You don’t need to show me attitude. You don’t welcome me, and similarly, I don’t want to see you.”

“I came to you for one matter. Please ask Madam Pei to dismiss everyone, leaving just the two of us.”

Jiang Wanying stared at her for a moment before waving her hand to dismiss the attendants. Jiang Wanrou also instructed Cui Zhu and Jin Tao to leave. When the spacious hall was left with only the two sisters, Jiang Wanrou said slowly, “I have two people in my possession: one named Ma Chunlan, the other Ying’er…”

She spoke clearly, recounting the past events in detail, without even needing to verify whether Jiang Wanying was responsible for them, simply asking her one question: “Why?”

Why did it have to be you? She even accepted Jiang Wanxue, for as one was the legitimate daughter and the other an illegitimate daughter, their positions were naturally opposed.

But why was it Fifth Sister? When they were young, Fifth Sister had made mistakes, and Jiang Wanrou had covered for her in front of Madam Qin. When Jiang Wanrou was punished and left hungry, it was the young Fifth Sister who sneaked in and gave her a white bread bun.

Mother once said, “A kindness as small as a drop of water should be repaid with an overflowing spring.” She always remembered that bun and helped her many times afterward. Even as the two gradually grew distant and she didn’t receive an invitation to her wedding, she still eagerly sent generous gifts. She believed she had done nothing wrong to her.

She couldn’t understand.

Perhaps because the evidence was undeniable, Jiang Wanying didn’t try to refute her. She listened in a daze, and after a long pause, she looked into Jiang Wanrou’s eyes and said softly, “Why?”

“Because I was jealous.” She looked at the woman before her, whose skin was extremely fair. Her face needed no powder—just a touch of red lipstick, and she was stunningly beautiful. The short jacket she wore was made of floral brocade silk in a fragrant color. Her hair was adorned with a gold hairpin inlaid with jewels and filigree, her earrings were large and lustrous East pearls, and on her left wrist, she wore both a jade bracelet and a gold bracelet inlaid with pearls. Truly a sight to behold.

She was even more dazzling than in her previous life.

Yes, she was the one responsible for the events five years ago. She had a secret. She was someone who had lived another life.

In her previous life, without her interference, Ying’er followed her destined path and became a concubine in the Lu family. However, her fate was far from fortunate. As for her esteemed legitimate elder sister, what did a few years as a princess consort really amount to? Later, Prince Gong was imprisoned, and despite her desperate efforts, it all amounted to nothing. When the new emperor ascended the throne, Prince Gong perished, and the royal family members were sent to a desolate region to guard the imperial tombs, where no leniency was shown.

No one would have imagined that the one who laughed last was their seemingly unremarkable Sixth Sister!

The youngest top scholar of their dynasty, who achieved the rare honor of ranking first in all three imperial exams, shook the entire court. This extraordinarily talented man stood in the Golden Throne Hall and boldly requested the emperor’s blessing to marry the sixth daughter of the Marquis Ning’an household.

The emperor personally issued the decree of marriage, and their wedding was grand and spectacular, with miles of red bridal decorations lining the streets. After marriage, they lived harmoniously, and years later, there was still only her in the household. Even her mother-in-law never reproached her but treated her like her own daughter. Her husband was loving, her mother-in-law was kind, and at that time, every woman in the capital went to the temple to pray, muttering, “If I could have just half of the fortune of Sixth Miss Jiang, I would be utterly content.”

So many women envied her and were jealous of her, and she, too, could not avoid such feelings.

As a fellow woman, how could Jiang Wanrou be so fortunate?

She had married properly into a marquis household, wed to a lesser son of equal rank. Yet, her husband, who seemed to have an appearance of dignity, was nothing more than an ornate fool, indulging in eating, drinking, gambling, and other vices. Her “good” mother-in-law couldn’t control her son and instead vented all her frustrations on her, blaming her for not being able to manage a man. The backyard was filled with mistresses creating endless strife, left and right. She lost two children and eventually damaged her health, leaving her barren. Her in-laws, seeing her as useless, didn’t even bother calling a doctor and tossed her into the Buddhist hall to fend for herself.

She endured through sheer willpower, surviving one year after another. Her enemies lived in splendor, and she was unwilling to die in such misery!

Day after day, she burned incense and prayed, wearing out one kneeling cushion after another. Then, one day, she overheard the maids gossiping outside, saying that today, Grand Secretary Pei was late to court. When the emperor asked why, it turned out he had been delayed because he was drawing his wife’s eyebrows.

It took her a long, dazed moment to realize that her younger sister’s husband had already become a Grand Secretary. He wasn’t even thirty years old! Once the youngest top scholar, now the youngest Grand Secretary—a remarkable individual with boundless prospects, he was still so kind to her.

At that moment, she suddenly lost the will to live. She overturned the candlestick, allowing the flames to engulf the curtains. In the searing, excruciating pain, she felt that her entire life had been a joke. As a child without her mother’s protection, she struggled to survive under the cruel hand of her stepmother. She thought that getting married would mark an improvement, but instead, it was jumping from one pit of fire into another. Her husband never showed her a shred of pity; she fought against her mother-in-law, battled with concubines, and ultimately, she had no children, her body was ravaged with illness, and she died alone in an unnoticed corner.

In life, she hadn’t experienced a single day of happiness. Perhaps in death, people would still spit on her grave as bad luck.

Her life had been so bitter.

…

Jiang Wanying snapped out of her thoughts, looking at Jiang Wanrou with a complex expression and murmuring, “I was jealous of you—jealous to the point of madness.”

Perhaps her relentless prayers day and night finally evoked compassion from Buddha. In her previous life, she had been poor at judging people, but now, given the chance to relive her life, she believed this time, she would make it better. She had suffered so much; she wished to experience the feeling of being cherished.

Jiang Wanying muttered obsessively, repeating the word “jealousy,” while Jiang Wanrou furrowed her brows tightly. To think that she had been vilified by so many people, all because of such a ridiculous reason.

She could not lie and claim there was nothing in her life worthy of envy from others, but Jiang Wanying should not have been the one envious of her. Even while confined to the inner household, she heard about Pei Zhang’s reputation. Rising from a local position to being directly appointed as the Right Deputy Minister of Personnel and concurrently a Grand Academician of the Eastern Pavilion, he was still so young that his future rise to marquis or prime minister seemed inevitable. The Pei household had few members and was free from mundane entanglements. Walking along the serene, elegant paths earlier, she had felt unusually refreshed, unburdened by her responsibilities.

She truly had no need to envy others.

Jiang Wanying did not elaborate further. Raising her head, she spoke coldly, “Sixth Sister, everything is governed by cause and effect. The past cannot be undone. Back then, I wronged you. But now, aren’t you doing quite well?”

She chuckled ambiguously and said, “Perhaps someday you’ll thank me for bringing you boundless fortune.”

Jiang Wanrou was so infuriated she almost laughed. Having eaten little that morning, her stomach burned uncomfortably, and she felt nauseated just looking at Jiang Wanying’s face.

She adjusted her golden-threaded scarf and stood up. “Fifth Sister, this is the last time I call you ‘Fifth Sister,’ honoring the bond we shared as children. From now on, we are strangers. If you strike at me again, I will not show mercy.”

Perhaps she was right. Deep down, Jiang Wanrou thought her current life was indeed good—her mindset had broadened significantly. She had a loving grandmother, a smart and considerate son, and a husband with immense power. Even seeking revenge against Jiang Wanying felt beneath her.

She turned on her heel and left, sweeping her sleeves. Just as she stepped across the threshold of the flower hall, Jiang Wanying suddenly remarked, “Your hands—they’re very beautiful.”

The skin was smooth and delicate, the ten fingers white as jade with a faint pink sheen—hands that clearly belonged to someone accustomed to a life of privilege.

Jiang Wanying lowered her head and stretched out her hand. “Unlike me, whose hands develop chilblains every winter, unsightly and unbearably itchy and painful.”

Unless someone committed a major mistake, Madam Qin would not allow physical punishments that left visible scars. She preferred a slow, grinding torment, such as allowing only half-full meals or withholding coal for warmth in winter. All the girls were delicate, and at that time, both she and Sixth Sister suffered greatly, with their fingers freezing and developing chilblains year after year.

The dreadful thing about chilblains is that once they appear, they are highly likely to recur in the future.

Jiang Wanying sighed softly and said, “I heard that the Imperial Medical Bureau has a cream for nourishing the skin, Snow Skin Balm, which works very well. I asked my husband to help obtain it for me.”

Jiang Wanrou turned her head to look at her, wondering what kind of trick she was playing. Jiang Wanying merely gave a bitter smile and said quietly, “He forgot.”

It wasn’t like this in her previous life. During the rebellion, he earned merit and was asked by the emperor what reward he desired—gold, land, or a promotion? Standing in the Golden Throne Hall, his voice rang clear: “My wife endured hardship in her youth and suffers from itchy, cracked fingers every winter. It pains me, I cherish her, and I pity her. I beseech Your Majesty to grant her medicine to cure this ailment. I am deeply grateful for the imperial favor and am willing to serve Your Majesty and the court with utmost devotion, even unto death.”

He secured a grand wedding procession stretching for miles and petitioned for medicinal balm on her behalf in the imperial court. And she, she had nothing. How could she not be jealous?

Jiang Wanying stared intently at Jiang Wanrou’s hands with a complex expression, her tone a mix of envy and sighs. “Who would’ve thought someone like Commander Lu would also care for you so deeply?”

Jiang Wanrou paid no attention to the word “also,” thinking only that she was acting deranged. How could this be related to Lu Feng? Her hands were beautiful because of her mother’s genes, and she no longer suffered from chilblains due to her diligence in self-care. In the year she had just married into the Lu family, she, too, endured unbearable pain and itching. The imperial physician resided at the Lu residence to treat Lu Feng’s legs, and she bribed him with silver to obtain a box of salve.

She didn’t need anyone else to care for her; she cared for herself.

Jiang Wanrou gazed at Jiang Wanying with an indescribable expression, thinking to herself: Is a box of chilblain ointment such a rare item? Even if Pei Zhang forgot, couldn’t you remind him? If all else fails, you could buy it yourself at a pharmacy. Though it may not be as refined as the cream from the Imperial Medical Bureau, diligently applying it and keeping warm would prevent her current condition.

“You…” With countless thoughts swirling in her mind, Jiang Wanrou ultimately had no words to say and could only remark, “Take care of yourself.”

She didn’t wish to stay there another moment, so she called for Cui Zhu and Jin Tao and left. Having barely eaten in the morning and then clashing with someone, her stomach burned, and her limbs felt weak. She finally returned to the mansion but found herself unable to eat.

“Forget it. I’ll lie down for a while. Just say I’m reviewing the account books; if there’s anything urgent, it can wait.”

Jiang Wanrou reluctantly drank two sips of ginseng tea, then removed her hairpin, let her hair down, and lay on the bed to rest. Due to the old matriarch’s birthday celebrations, the household managers were all trying their hardest to impress the lady of the house, reporting matters incessantly—today one, tomorrow another. It had been a busy time for her.

Now, with a brief moment of stolen leisure, no one dared lift the curtain to check whether the lady was truly reviewing the account books.

Today was particularly unlucky. No one expected that Lu Feng would unexpectedly return to the mansion during the day!

He was wearing a deep purple dragon-patterned official robe, specially tailored for the Commander. The dragon embroidered on his chest had wide-open glaring eyes, exuding an imposing presence—it was clear he had just returned from court.

None of the maids dared to block his path. Not only did the master not dare to intervene, but the truth had to be reported directly: “Madam is resting in her room.”

“Ridiculous,” Lu Feng muttered, his brows slightly furrowing. Instantly, the maids at Jinguang Courtyard silently knelt on the ground. Cui Zhu, being closest to him, trembled on the floor—not just out of fear for herself but also out of worry for the mistress inside the room.

Sleeping soundly in broad daylight—forget being a wife; even an unmarried girl might be called “lazy” for such behavior. The fact that Madam was resting after morning tea was a secret known only to Cui Zhu and Jin Tao, her closest attendants. Surely, the Master wouldn’t punish Madam?

Lu Feng ignored the kneeling maids and pushed open the door, stepping inside.