Chapter 2

Page 1 of 3

Ever since Shen Lingyue transmigrated, she had been confined indoors to recover from an illness, so bored that she could only gossip with her maidservants to pass the time. This was her first time confronting the household’s intrigue head-on, and she found it both novel and exhilarating, her fighting spirit instantly ignited.

In truth, the cause of the original Shen Lingyue’s death had always been blurry in her mind. There were only faint, lingering memories: on the afternoon of the incident, the original had exchanged a few words with her second sister, Shen Songyi, in the garden, and their conversation had ended badly.

Now that the “suspect” had come to her of her own accord, she naturally wouldn’t let this opportunity slip away.

Steadying herself, Shen Lingyue recalled the original’s usual demeanor, coldly brushing away Shen Songyi’s hand and seating herself at the head of the table, taking the chance to snatch a pastry and munch on it.

“What’s this, are you disappointed to see I haven’t died of illness, Second Sister?”

Shen Songyi choked at this, her expression growing even more pitiful. “Even if you’re still angry at me, little sister, must you say such things and curse yourself?”

“Enough, enough. Father isn’t here—who are you putting on this teary act for?” Shen Lingyue rolled her eyes disdainfully. “If you have something to say, say it. If not, leave. I have no time to play at sisterly affection with you.”

Shen Songyi didn’t doubt her attitude. Shen Lingyue had always been like this—relying on her status as both a legitimate daughter and the youngest in the family, she’d never taken her elder sister seriously.

In the past, Shen Songyi would never have come to seek out humiliation, but this illness of Shen Lingyue’s had been suspicious from the start. The legitimate madam had punished a whole batch of servants in these last days, and soon enough, the investigation would land on her.

Exhaling, Shen Songyi forced a smile more wretched than tears. “Perhaps you’ve been muddled from your sickness, but do you remember what we talked about in the garden that day?”

Shen Lingyue pretended to think for a moment, then shook her head impatiently. “I drink so many bowls of bitter medicine every day—who could remember what nonsense I might have said to you?”

Shen Songyi grew anxious at that. “How can you not remember? You said that Second Young Master Pei is nothing but a frivolous wastrel, spending his days with cockfights and dogs, unfit to inherit the marquisate. You said you’d rather dash your head to death than marry such a fool!”

Thud.

The pastry in Shen Lingyue’s mouth dropped to the floor.

No way—her future husband was that kind of man?

She was doomed. She might as well go find a white silk scarf and be done with it—

Wait—

Wiping the pastry crumbs from the corner of her mouth, Shen Lingyue sized up Shen Songyi and snorted coldly. “Are we really so close that I’d say such things to you?”

Was this frail little stepsister hoping she’d been muddled by illness, and had come to stir up trouble and twist the facts?

With a sudden burst of righteous indignation, Shen Lingyue stood. “The Emperor is wise—how could he bestow a marriage recklessly? Second Sister, mind your words. I am more than satisfied with this engagement and have no complaints whatsoever!”

Hmph. She wasn’t about to let Shen Songyi catch her out.

Shen Songyi’s brows furrowed ever more tightly. In her panic, she blurted out, “So you’re saying the promise you made to let me be the substitute bride doesn’t count?”

Shen Lingyue: Huh?

She stared wide-eyed. “Are you mad? This is an imperial marriage decree—you want to play at swapping brides? Planning to drag the whole family down with you?”

Having spoken, Shen Songyi stiffened but pressed on. “The decree only says that the legitimate daughter of the Shen family is to marry the second son of the Pei family to unite our houses. It never named you, Shen Lingyue, specifically…”

She mustered her courage, stepped forward, and clutched Shen Lingyue’s hand tightly. “Sister, if you don’t want to marry, I do! I am willing to take your place in this pit of fire—please, let me!”

Only then did Shen Lingyue understand.

So, the talk of jumping into a pit of fire was a ruse; what Shen Songyi truly wanted was the title of legitimate daughter.

But this raised another question—was Shen Songyi a fool, willing to trade her future for an empty title?

“Second Miss!”

Page 2 of 3

Qingchan entered carrying tea just as these words were spoken, and immediately rushed forward to shield Shen Lingyue, glaring angrily at Shen Songyi. “Madam has always treated you well, yet you dare to plot against my mistress’s marriage!”

She turned anxiously to Shen Lingyue. “Miss, don’t listen to her nonsense. I’ve already looked into it—while Second Young Master Pei is the legitimate second son, his mother is the Marchioness’s second wife. By the rites, both he and the eldest son can inherit the marquisate.”

Behind her, Shen Songyi’s voice drifted in softly, “You said ‘by the rites’—but the eldest young master’s mother is Princess Qinghe, her bloodline noble and pure, and he is both talented and accomplished, already serving at the Ministry of War at a young age. How could the second young master compete?”

Shen Lingyue pushed aside Qingchan’s head, growing more puzzled. “You know all this, yet you still want to marry him?”

Even if Shen Songyi was renowned for her talents among the ladies, the marquisate was ultimately a man’s inheritance. Did she think she could force the second son to surpass the eldest?

With that birth, talent, and reputation, the elder son inheriting was all but certain.

Shen Songyi gave a bitter smile, with a hint of sincerity. “Because this is the best marriage I can hope for.”

“Sister, I know you’re unhappy with this match. You don’t want to become a sister-in-law to Miss Zhou, nor marry a frivolous man like Second Young Master Pei. With your status, and Madam and the Zhao family making plans for your future, you’re bound to have better choices.”

“But I have none.”

“If I miss this match with the Marquis of Changning’s family, then I’ll only—”

“Only what? Be harshly mistreated by me, your legitimate mother, and married off at random?”

A calm, dignified middle-aged woman’s voice sounded from outside the door.

Shen Lingyue looked up to see a richly dressed woman approaching with her maids and old nursemaids. Her hair was piled high like clouds, her forehead broad, her brows long and elegant, her features open and imposing—a face both tranquil and commanding.

It was the original’s mother, Madam Zhao Lan, the mistress of the Shen family.

Shen Lingyue hurried forward. “Mother, what brings you here?”

Turning, she spied Shuangxu hiding behind a maid—so she had gone to the main house to fetch reinforcements.

Zhao Lan took her hand, squeezing it with a hint of disappointment. “If I hadn’t come, you’d have let your good sister sell you off and even helped her count the money.”

Shen Songyi’s face turned white and she fell to her knees. “Madam, I meant no such thing!”

Zhao Lan didn’t spare her a glance, instructing the nursemaids behind her, “Second Miss has become muddle-headed and speaks nonsense. Take her back to her rooms to recover. Let Concubine Liu look after her carefully. She need not come to pay her respects before the Buddha’s birthday next month.”

Immediately, two sturdy nursemaids stepped forward, grabbed Shen Songyi, covered her mouth, and dragged her out.

Shen Songyi struggled, kicking her legs desperately, but could only stare fixedly at Shen Lingyue with wide, tear-filled eyes before being taken away.

Shen Lingyue found herself pinned by that gaze, full of unwillingness and pleading. She couldn’t say what she felt, but it wasn’t quite as satisfying as she’d imagined.

“All right now, don’t be fooled by her honeyed words.” Zhao Lan tapped her forehead in mock reproach, her tone tinged with disgust. “Just like that Liu woman—both so good at feigning pitifulness and deceiving people.”

Snapping out of it, Shen Lingyue mused for a moment and asked, “Is Second Sister’s marriage settled yet?”

Zhao Lan replied indifferently, “She has two elder brothers still unmarried—what’s the rush?” Then, with a mocking smile, “Your father is afraid I’ll mistreat his precious daughter. He’s waiting for the spring examination results to choose a son-in-law. It’s not my concern.”

Shen Lingyue let out a quiet sigh of relief, which Zhao Lan caught, both amused and exasperated. “Heartless girl, did you really believe I’d manipulate her marriage?”

“Of course not,” Shen Lingyue replied quickly, her eyes darting as she changed the subject. “I was just worried she’d try to interfere with my betrothal again.”

Zhao Lan shot her a sidelong glance. “This illness has cleared your mind—you’re not clamoring to break the engagement anymore?”

Maintaining the original’s spoiled persona, Shen Lingyue huffed, “Even if I didn’t want it, it’s not her place to take it from me.”

“That’s more like my daughter.”

With a gratified smile, Zhao Lan accompanied her back to the bedroom, called for Qingchan and Shuangxu, and inquired in detail about her meals and routines over the past days, her care and concern evident in every word.

Shen Lingyue played the obedient daughter, fiddling with the delicate kesi embroidery on Zhao Lan’s hem one moment, lifting her sleeve to examine the translucent jade bracelet on her wrist the next—never quite able to sit still.

Page 3 of 3

Zhao Lan enjoyed this closeness, and without hesitation slipped off her jade bracelet, tucking it into her daughter’s arms, giving her anything she wished for.

Once the servants had been dismissed and only mother and daughter remained, Zhao Lan spoke to her earnestly.

“Don’t listen to your second sister’s nonsense. An imperial marriage decree is a shining honor. Does she think the Marquis of Changning’s household is blind and deaf, that she could impersonate a legitimate daughter as a substitute bride? She’s scheming for nothing more than to be registered under my name and gain the status of a legitimate daughter. Dream on—as long as I live, she’ll never step over you.”

“But Second Sister says Second Young Master Pei is just a useless wastrel…” Shen Lingyue grumbled, feigning reluctance. “Do I really have to marry him?”

Zhao Lan countered, “If he were truly so unworthy, why would she still want to marry him?”

She reached out to tidy Shen Lingyue’s bangs, coaxing her gently. “Since ancient times, noble families marry high and take wives low. The Marquis of Changning’s family is favored by the Emperor—where else could you find a match made by imperial decree, and with two marriages granted at once?”

“Second Young Master Pei may not be as accomplished as his elder brother, but he’s merely young and playful. At least he’s never committed any crimes of bullying or murder.”

Shen Lingyue: …

Was the bar really set this low? So long as he wasn’t a murderer, he was a good husband?

She recalled a joke she’d read online, about a matchmaker introducing a blind date—he used to be a killer, but he’s reformed now.

Oblivious to her inner grumbling, Zhao Lan continued, “And besides, the current Marchioness of Changning is Second Young Master Pei’s own mother—she’ll be your mother-in-law. If you ever have a quarrel with Miss Zhou, she’ll surely take your side. Remember this: in the rear courtyard, your mother-in-law matters far more than your husband.”

Mentioning Miss Zhou finally roused Shen Lingyue’s fighting spirit. She clenched her fists. “Don’t worry, Mother—I won’t lose to her!”

Zhao Lan laughed so hard crow’s feet appeared at her eyes. “Very good. Then I’ll wait to see you make your mark in the Marquis of Changning’s household.”

*

That evening, Vice Minister of Rites Shen Hang returned home after drinking with colleagues, meaning to visit Concubine Liu’s quarters as usual, only to be stopped along the way.

“Madam says Second Miss has behaved outrageously and deceived her younger sister. She and Concubine Liu have both been confined. Master, you must do something!”

Shen Hang was incensed and stormed off to the main house.

Zhao Lan was sitting at her dressing table removing her makeup. Smelling the alcohol, she frowned and spoke without turning. “You’re drunk, husband. Best sleep in the front quarters tonight.”

Instead, Shen Hang deliberately staggered over and burped in her face, cheeks flushed, slurring his words. “What did Songyi do to displease you? Why have you confined her?”

Zhao Lan, covering her nose with her sleeve, replied testily, “Your precious daughter doesn’t want to recognize her own mother, wants to be the Shen family’s legitimate daughter, and is trying to steal Yue’er’s marriage!”

Shen Hang sobered up at once, eyes wide with disbelief. “Is that true?”

Zhao Lan’s voice was icy. “Ask her yourself if you don’t believe me. If she hadn’t come up with such wild schemes and sown discord before Yue’er, would Yue’er have suffered such a fright, nearly falling fatally ill?”

Thinking of his daughter lying deathly still in bed days ago, Zhao Lan clenched her fist, her eyes cold and stern.

“I nearly died giving birth to Yue’er. Anyone who dares upset her will have to go through me.”

Shen Hang was so startled by the murderous tone in his wife’s words that any lingering drunkenness was chased away by the night air. He laughed awkwardly, backing away. “Just sisters’ foolish teasing—no need to take it so seriously.”

He sniffed his sleeve. “Ah, I did have a bit much to drink tonight. I’ll go to the study. Madam, rest early.”

Zhao Lan watched his retreating figure with utter indifference.

Once Yue’er was married, she’d understand—whether a man was good or not mattered little. Only the power in your own hands was truly real.