Disaster Began With Me

Oulan’s defense had, for now, spared her life. Pan Yueyang swept his sleeves and departed, while Oulan’s eyes, brimming with hatred, shot daggers of enmity toward the doorway.

“Go and fetch Dan Yunji for me!” Pan Yueyang barked at Emerald Bamboo as he stepped outside, striding towards his study.

“Princess?” Emerald Bamboo stood cautiously outside the door. She had served the princess for years, but never before had she seen Oulan kneeling in such despair, fear, and panic. Truth be told, seeing Oulan in this state brought Emerald Bamboo a touch of satisfaction.

“Get out!” Oulan did not raise her head.

Emerald Bamboo ducked out quickly: “Go, the general wants Dan Yunji summoned.” Naturally, Emerald Bamboo would not trouble herself with such tasks and so instructed a young maid in the household to see it done at once.

“Explain! I was gone from the manor for but a day—how could so many disasters unfold? Where is Pin’er’s body?” Pan Yueyang suddenly felt a vast, ominous shadow lurking within his own home.

Dan Yunji stood timidly, not knowing where to begin. If one must speak of calamity, it all started the day the princess entered the house.

Pan Yueyang stared at Dan Yunji’s lowered head in silence. He knew well enough: Oulan had been here but three days, and already she had turned his manor upside down—Yan’er suffered a miscarriage, Pin’er took her own life in shame. Hmph, a vicious woman.

“General, the manor was peaceful before. Now that we have a mistress, it’s—difficult for us…” Dan Yunji shook his head. He truly did not know the specifics.

“Go and assign a few trusted servants to care for Yan’er. I do not wish to see her threatened again. You may leave.” Pan Yueyang rubbed his temple, loathing this life under another’s power.

Yan’er would neither eat nor drink, drifting in and out of sleep each day. When tired of lying down, she would sit up and gaze out the window. Autumn had deepened; the withering leaves swept through the room on a cool wind, and Yan’er tightened her quilt.

“Madam, shall I close the window?” The young maid assigned to Yan’er gently shut the casement.

Yan’er silently watched the girl, then closed her eyes.

“General.” The maid curtsied, glanced worriedly at the woman on the bed, and shook her head at Pan Yueyang.

“She still hasn’t eaten?” Pan Yueyang looked at Yan’er feigning sleep upon the bed, uncertain how to approach her. Both angry and helpless, he nearly turned to leave, but a pang of pity made him step softly to the bedside. He picked up a bowl of rice porridge from the low table: “Go warm this.”

The maid took the bowl and hurried out, still pausing to glance back at Yan’er. Her youthful face was etched with concern.

“Yan’er, we can still have children. Once you’ve recovered, I promise you, we’ll have many, many children.” Pan Yueyang gently embraced Yan’er, whose frail body was now little more than skin and bones.

“Hush.” Yan’er closed her eyes, placing a finger to her lips. “Don’t disturb me. My child is asleep.”

Pan Yueyang recoiled in shock, seeing Yan’er lost in her own fantasy, eyes closed in bliss. He furrowed his brow in pain. “Yan’er, don’t punish yourself like this.”

Yan’er suddenly opened her eyes wide. “You will face retribution.” She smiled, as lovely as a flower, closed her eyes, and stroked her abdomen.

Pan Yueyang clenched his fists and sighed deeply. Dan Yunji had told him the child, when delivered, was barely the size of a palm, her body dark and lifeless—a girl.

“General, the porridge is ready.” The maid looked tenderly at Yan’er sitting on the bed.

“I’ll do it.” Pan Yueyang took the porridge, stirring it gently lest the sound of porcelain disturb Yan’er. “Here, have a sip. Isn’t the child asleep? While she rests, you must eat so you can care for her.” Pan Yueyang gazed mournfully at the broken Yan’er, realizing he was uttering the same mad words as she.

The maid stood quietly nearby, wiping her eyes. For days now, Madam had been this way—either drowsy or lost in a daze. Any noise in the room would prompt her to anxiously demand that the child not be awakened.

Yan’er turned her face away, eyes still shut. She was not insane; she simply refused to confront reality, deliberately fleeing from it. She would rather feign madness and dwell in her imagined world. Yet today, hearing Pan Yueyang echo her delusions, she found herself unable to hate him.

Pan Yueyang set the spoon aside, tipped up half a bowl of porridge, and held Yan’er’s head, pressing his lips to hers. Yan’er struggled against his hold, but she was too weak to resist him. Pan Yueyang pried her teeth open, his lips locked to hers, letting the porridge slowly flow into her mouth.

Yan’er abruptly opened her eyes and bit down hard on Pan Yueyang’s lip. He winced in pain but did not relent, continuing to pry her mouth open and force the porridge in. Yan’er seized the chance to twist away, and the porridge sprayed from their mouths across the bed and the floor.

“Madam?” The maid had been pleased to see the general force some food into her, but Yan’er’s sudden struggle sent most of the porridge spilling onto the bedding and floor. The maid quickly handed Pan Yueyang a brocade handkerchief.

Yan’er smiled in triumph, glaring at Pan Yueyang, a sense of vindication swelling within her.

Pan Yueyang was not angered by his recent actions. When his lips met Yan’er’s, he found himself yearning for more. Defeated, he took the handkerchief and gently wiped the rice and porridge from Yan’er’s face, bit by bit.

“Don’t pretend to care. You will face retribution.” Yan’er’s voice was low, but the murderous tone was unmistakable as she growled at him.

“Change Madam’s bedding shortly.” Pan Yueyang finished cleaning Yan’er, wiped his own mouth and collar, then rose and left, stepping lightly. At the door, he paused for a moment but did not turn back, silently exiting the room.

The maid brought out a fresh quilt, carefully making the bed but hesitated to pull the soiled one off Yan’er. “Madam…” She turned her head to hide her tears.

“What is your name…”

Unexpectedly, Yan’er asked the maid her name. The girl was overjoyed, quickly wiping her tears. “I am Xiaoyuan.” It was the first time Madam had spoken to her since she began her service.

“How old…”

Yan’er’s voice remained devoid of emotion.

“I am thirteen.” Xiaoyuan squatted by the bed, looking up at Yan’er. Her small hands covered Yan’er’s icy fingers, trying to warm them.

“Leave. Those who stay by my side never meet a good end.” Yan’er closed her eyes and exhaled weakly.

“No, Madam, you will be well again. Xiaoyuan believes it.” Xiaoyuan’s innocent eyes searched Yan’er’s face.

Yan’er ignored her, drifting back into her own world, while Xiaoyuan lowered her head, her hands still gently clasping Yan’er’s cold fingers.

“What a touching display of mistress and servant, indeed.” Oulan, supported by Emerald Bamboo, appeared at the door, not intending to come any closer.

The familiar voice made Yan’er open her eyes, filled with hatred and coolly fixated on Oulan—the ruthless woman. Remembering Fenghe’s death, Yan’er’s eyes brimmed with tears of vengeance.

Oulan loathed Yan’er. She had never expected this woman to cling to life so stubbornly, to circle the gates of death and return. If not for Yan’er, how could Pan Yueyang ignore her? Even on their wedding night, he had been perfunctory, and these days he slept alone in the study. Oulan’s teeth clenched—proud as she was, she would not easily concede defeat to Yan’er. She was a princess!

“Princess,” Emerald Bamboo gently called Oulan back from her thoughts.

“I came to see if you were dead. You should thank me for dealing with the true culprit.” Oulan lifted her chin.

Yan’er said nothing, still glaring at Oulan with murderous hatred.

“Pin’er has confessed,” Oulan declared, then turned to leave. She had prepared many words to wound Yan’er, but the fury in Yan’er’s gaze made her uneasy.

Emerald Bamboo cast a spiteful look at Yan’er, spat on the floor, and followed Oulan. “Princess, why did you let that wretch go so easily today?” Emerald Bamboo complained about Oulan’s weakness.

“That wretch will be dealt with sooner or later!” Oulan straightened her back and strode away. “Prepare yourself, we’re going to the palace.”

A smile bloomed on Emerald Bamboo’s face. Oulan’s visit to the palace meant that Yan’er, that little wretch, would soon know no peace. Heh.

“Madam?” Xiaoyuan tightened her grip on Yan’er’s hands, pulling her back from the brink of emotional collapse.

Yan’er glared at the empty doorway, then turned to Xiaoyuan in agitation. “Tell me! Tell me, what happened to Pin’er!?”

“Madam, madam…” Xiaoyuan steadied Yan’er’s trembling body, letting the frail woman collapse into her arms. “It’s alright, Madam, it’s alright.”

“What happened to Pin’er?” Yan’er began to regain her composure. “Xiaoyuan, will you tell me?”

“Madam, I was only assigned to you after that day, I truly don’t know what happened,” Xiaoyuan pressed Yan’er’s shoulders gently. She did know, of course; though she hadn’t seen it herself, everyone in the manor was aware. But the steward had cautioned not to speak of it to Yan’er—and seeing Madam’s current state, Xiaoyuan dared not tell her.

“Xiaoyuan, Fenghe followed me from the day I entered the manor. Fenghe…” Yan’er faltered. Fenghe had always been dutiful and loyal, serving her faithfully, yet Yan’er had never truly cared for her. Even in her final moments, Fenghe was steadfast in her protection, and Yan’er felt only indebtedness.

“Madam, Xiaoyuan understands. Sister Fenghe was a good person.” Xiaoyuan’s tears spilled down.

“Xiaoyuan? I beg you, I need to know how many innocents have died because of me!” Yan’er’s eyes were clear—not the madness of before, but an earnest plea that melted Xiaoyuan’s resolve.

Xiaoyuan steadied herself and spoke quietly: “After that day, the princess accused Pin’er of plotting against you. Pin’er confessed without defense. Doudou, trying to protect her mistress, was beaten to death by the princess. Afterwards, Pin’er took poison and died, and the princess left her body in the wild…”