Chapter 8: The Crippled Young Lady (VIII)

Chapter 8: The Disabled Young Lady (Part Eight)

From the moment the imperial edict arrived, the Grand Tutor’s residence had been preparing in an orderly manner. In fact, to be precise, everyone in the household—from the venerable Madame Feng, the Grand Tutor’s wife, down to the concubines and maids—was fully aware of the situation.

Among the three young ladies of the house, the Fourth Mistress boasted two of them. In recent days, they all walked with their chins held high, their steps brimming with pride, clearly showing the triumph of those who have risen in favor.

Feng Qingqing and Feng Ruoyu had long been coaxed by the Fourth Mistress to have old palace maids from the imperial court teach them the proper etiquette, so they were well-versed in the palace’s rules and rituals.

In contrast, Feng Yanran had been neglected due to her physical condition.

Everyone was clear: this eldest young lady was a hundred percent certain to be rejected.

In the blink of an eye, the third day of the eighth month arrived—the day for the selected maidens to enter the palace.

The venerable madame tenderly saw her off, placing a gentle hand on her head, as if Su Kui were merely stepping out for a moment and would soon return.

“Be good, Ran’er,” the madame said softly, her only words to her.

Su Kui smiled with eyes nearly closed and nodded firmly. “Yes! I know!”

Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed Grand Tutor Feng and the Fourth Mistress standing nearby, carefully sending Feng Qingqing and Feng Ruoyu onto their carriage, offering meticulous instructions. A shadow crossed her gaze.

Su Kui immediately lowered her eyelids to conceal the mocking glint in her eyes. The Grand Tutor was indeed cold and callous; Feng Yanran was such a foolish girl to still cling to the illusion of paternal love despite being so completely ignored.

Watching Su Kui’s demeanor, the venerable madame sighed and waved her hand without a word, clearly helpless toward her son.

Feng Zheng, who had been standing silently with his hands behind his back before the mansion, observed the scene. His eyes flickered.

He watched her act obediently, coquettishly towards the venerable madame, the small dimples on her cheeks like honey dripping. He saw the eager longing in her gaze toward her father, and the disappointed grievance in receiving no attention.

For some reason, a dull ache stirred in his heart. Reflecting on Su Kui’s behavior over the past month, it seemed she had indeed changed.

Before the carriage departed, Feng Zheng finally stepped forward and, like the venerable madame, reached out to smooth her hair. “The palace is not your home where you can act recklessly. You are no longer a child. Remember, you must not make mistakes there. When some time has passed, your brother will come to fetch you.”

Su Kui’s catlike pupils sparkled, then she beamed a wide smile that made him squint. “Yes!”

The carriage slowly set off, heading toward the imperial palace towering at the heart of the capital.

Su Kui waved vigorously at the venerable madame and her brother until their figures vanished from sight.

Lowering her hand, she settled back inside the carriage and smiled faintly, her mood remarkably bright.

Could this be considered a successful strategy?

So—

Even if she couldn’t latch onto a powerful patron, she still had a way out.

At the very least, she was no longer like Feng Yanran—alone, with nowhere to turn.

Feeling buoyant, Su Kui began to hum a little tune.

“Speak of eternal love and loyalty, he says there is joy to share, he says there is sorrow to endure together. But now, it’s like autumn winds passing the ear, all affections erased with a stroke. Left only with a solitary shadow, a beautiful dream abruptly ended—”

Su Kui lifted her slender finger, softly crooning the lament of Du Shiniang, so vivid it was as if a faithless lover had truly betrayed her.

At that moment, a lavish carriage brushed past the Feng residence. Atop it, a small flag fluttered in the wind, emblazoned with the fierce gaze of a lone wolf.

Inside, a man rested his cheek on one hand, fingers playing with a bone porcelain cup, turning it over and over. His flowing silver robe shimmered, his expression one of utter boredom.

Then he heard that delicate, soft singing. Though some words were lost in fluctuating volume—likely ignored by the singer herself—they still ensnared his heart.

The man could not quite explain the feeling. If he had to name it, it was as if a wandering, restless spirit, lost for centuries, had finally found a home. The restless, anxious life would soon be behind him. He would no longer be alone.

(End of chapter)