Chapter Thirty-One: Crossing Blades

Seeing the changing expression on Steward Zhao’s face, Lu Ying suddenly felt a headache coming on. She thought with some irritation: this is the power granted by status—even a casual jest from someone above sends those below into wild speculation, and countless fates are altered as a result.

Still, despite her thoughts, Lu Ying replied, “No. I don’t know this nobleman.”

Steward Zhao was plainly unconvinced. He frowned and said, “A Ying, he called you Ying-ying…”

Lu Ying cut him off decisively, her voice cold. “He mistook me for someone else!”

Such an attitude—how rude! Steward Zhao was incensed. Out of habit, he wanted to scold her, but recalling the scene moments ago, he pressed his lips tightly together and said nothing.

Since these two youngsters cared nothing for him, there was no need for him to waste his warmth on their indifference. Closing his eyes, he composed himself and thought: I must report this to Lord Ping at once and let him handle it.

In the ensuing silence, the ox cart rolled into the Ping estate. As soon as they disembarked, Steward Zhao summoned a servant to lead the siblings to the Matron, while he himself hurried toward the small garden where Lord Ping resided.

The Ping estate was a familiar place to the siblings—they had been frequent visitors these past years. As the overlord of Hanyang, the estate sprawled over vast grounds. Winding corridors and timbered pavilions spoke of great care and expense in their design.

From afar, Lu Yun glanced at the courtyard where the Matron stayed and whispered, “Sister, why do you think Grandmother has called for us? Could it be about that time you saved someone?”

Lu Ying shook her head. “I don’t know.”

As they spoke, a clear, crystalline laughter rang out ahead. Within the laughter, a girl’s teasing voice could be heard: “Hee-hee, Yin-jie, you’re blushing!” Next came the sounds of playful scuffling—Ping Yin and another girl, by the sound of it.

Lu Ying’s lips curved into a faint smile. “So Uncle Zeng has come calling. No wonder Grandmother sent for us.”

Lu Yun blinked in confusion. “Sister, didn’t you just say you didn’t know?”

Lu Ying laughed softly. “Didn’t you hear Ping Yin laughing? She’s so delighted—it must be because her betrothal to Master Zeng is settled. If their marriage is agreed upon, then the matter of dissolving Master Zeng’s engagement to me must also be addressed, don’t you think?” Though Zeng’s father was not dealing directly with her but instead acting through the Ping estate, she knew she needed to be mentally prepared.

As they spoke, they had already passed several peach trees and could see a group of girls frolicking in the distance. Among them was Ping Yin, slender yet radiant.

Watching Ping Yin, whose joy seemed to shine even from her hair, Lu Ying shook her head, pity rising in her heart: She understands nothing.

Yes, she understands nothing. She does not know what fate awaits her, marrying into the Zeng family after her reputation has been tarnished, nor does she know what kind of place the Zeng household truly is.

…Time is a butcher’s knife; for the narrow-minded, even the faintest grievance or fragment of idle gossip will be magnified endlessly, until resentment and dislike consume all that once moved the heart.

The girls did not notice the siblings’ approach. After passing through several more corridors, Lu Ying and Lu Yun entered a courtyard and followed the servant into a spacious, well-lit hall. In the center, the Matron of the Ping family sat erect on her couch. To her left, in the guest seat, sat a robust, swarthy military officer.

Almost as soon as the siblings entered, the officer’s gaze snapped toward them, studying them intently.

Zeng’s father, a seasoned martial man, had eyes like lightning—his lofty and faintly disdainful, scrutinizing look could make one’s knees tremble.

But Lu Ying, having faced even the sons of the powerful without flinching, would not be cowed by a mere military man. The siblings stepped forward and bowed to the Matron at the center.

“Grandmother, we hope you are well.”

After the salute, Lu Yun straightened. No one had introduced him to Zeng’s father, so he only glanced at the man, lowered his head, and maintained a respectful posture.

Lu Ying, however, turned toward Zeng’s father, curtsied gracefully, and greeted him in a clear, cool voice. “Lu Ying of the Lu clan pays her respects to Uncle Zeng.”

At her greeting, Zeng’s father started, his rough voice ringing out, “You know me?”

“I do not, but I knew Uncle Zeng would come.”

At these words, Zeng’s father snorted and, ignoring Lu Ying, looked to the Matron.

Receiving his signal, the Matron cleared her throat and addressed Lu Ying in a bland tone. “A Ying.”

“Grandmother.”

Her calm response made a flash of distaste flicker in the Matron’s eyes. With a cold expression, she snorted through her nose and said mockingly, “A Ying, you’ve grown up, haven’t you? Grown wings, have you? The moment you gained someone’s favor, you rushed to turn it into silver and buy yourself a house. When you wanted to break off the engagement, you snatched the betrothal contract and tore it up at your fiancé’s home, even dared to slap him twice before you left. Lu Ying of the Lu clan, you’re really something!”

The Matron had deliberately twisted the facts, omitting all context and focusing solely on Lu Ying’s supposed insolence. Standing in the hall, Lu Ying’s face grew dark as she listened.

The Matron was her elder. As such, when her junior erred, not only did she refuse to shield her, she even used her words to cut her down. Did she not remember that Lu Ying was an unmarried girl? Did she not consider that, as a close elder, uttering such words could ruin her niece’s reputation, destroy her virtue?

Lu Ying had always known the Matron disliked her parents, and liked her and her brother even less. But she had not realized her grandmother would kick her while she was down, caring nothing for kinship!

Of course—Zeng’s father must have promised her some benefit, to make her step forward and destroy an insignificant junior like herself.

Lu Ying’s face turned ashen. Beside her, Lu Yun trembled with rage. Seeing her brother about to speak out, Lu Ying’s heart clenched. If her reputation was ruined, at worst she would not marry—but if her brother’s name was tarnished, his future would be lost.

Thinking quickly, she darted in front of him, yanked him back, and raised her head.

Fixing her gaze on the Matron, Lu Ying spoke icily. “Madam, does my father bear you a grudge? Or my mother? I see—my brother and I displease you! So, in your authority as elder, you do not hesitate to conspire with outsiders to destroy my reputation!”

Her words were so blunt and sharp that the Matron was left gasping, pointing at her for a long moment before she could not utter a sound. The two maids behind her stepped forward, rebuking Lu Ying. “Lu Ying of the Lu clan, how dare you!”

“I dare little enough.”

Having mastered her initial anger, Lu Ying was calm once more. Her lips curled coldly. “My courage has always been small. I am a pauper’s daughter—who would want me? At worst, I forgo a husband and reputation. But, Madam, if I recall, my two cousins are to stand for filial and honest conduct this year, are they not? Such candidates must be above reproach. Now imagine—a pauper’s daughter, with nothing to lose, fabricates a few stories and brings them before the authorities. Better yet, there are seven or eight reputable families who recently owed her a favor. What if she simply went to their doors, weeping and telling her grievances? I suspect the result would be most effective.”

Strike where it hurts—at her words, the Matron’s face changed dramatically, and Zeng’s father, so composed before, now stared wide-eyed in shock.

It is said that those with nothing to lose fear nothing. In the eyes of the Matron and her ilk, Lu Ying and her brother were just that—paupers, without prospects, without light, the lowest of the low.

But Lu Ying’s words made the Matron abruptly realize that her own powerful, numerous family could not afford to tangle with those who had nothing to lose.

No, it was not just that they could not afford it—they absolutely must not. How could she have forgotten? This little niece before her was no longer the helpless victim of months past. She had saved many children, and in Hanyang, her words carried weight—wherever she went, people paid attention. The Ping family had ambitious sons seeking office every year; a single misstep could bring shame to the entire clan.

At a time like this, it was far better to avoid trouble than to invite it.