Chapter Six: The Ping Residence

Lu Ying examined the spot where she had fallen, but after searching, she found no answers and turned to walk back home. By now, dusk had descended.

Before she reached the door, she saw from afar her younger brother standing in the courtyard, reading from a book, his head swaying with the rhythm of the words. He would read a few lines, then glance down the road, read a few more, and look up again. He was waiting for her to return.

Warmth blossomed in Lu Ying’s heart, a bittersweet ache rising in her eyes. Unconsciously, she quickened her steps. Seeing her approach, her brother’s face darkened, his voice cold as he asked, "Why are you so late?"

He glared at her with eyes so like hers—clear and bright, shimmering with anger on his fair, handsome face.

Lu Ying knew he was worried for her. She smiled gently, "I went to the Xuan Yuan Temple, that’s why I’m late." Walking toward the house, she added, "You must be hungry. Tonight we have bone broth."

Lu Yun had intended to stay angry, but the words "bone broth" made his stomach betray him with a loud rumble. Yet he said nothing, even turned his back, snorting dismissively, "I’m not hungry!"

Hearing her brother’s denial, Lu Ying only smiled, busying herself as she said, "Luck was with me today. I met a nobleman who asked for directions and rewarded me with some money. Ah Yun, tomorrow we can pay your tuition for the year."

After a while, she heard her brother grunt softly, signaling he’d heard.

Then, lowering her voice as she kindled the fire in the clay stove, Lu Ying said, "Ah Yun, after this injury, I feel I’ve understood many things."

"Mm."

"My heart has grown much harder."

"Mm."

"…"

"It’s dark outside. Come read by the fire."

"Understood."

When her brother settled beside her, Lu Ying shifted back a little, tilting her head to rest gently against his shoulder. Feeling the warmth behind him, Lu Yun stiffened at first, then quietly leaned closer.

…

The next day, all of Hanyang Town was abuzz with talk of Ah Jiao. In this small town, it was rare for someone to suffer such immediate retribution after making a vow.

Rumors spread like wildfire, growing more outrageous with each retelling. Within two days, Ah Jiao had become a venomous shrew; even matters unrelated to her were linked to her name. Her second cousin’s husband was now deemed a fool duped by a wicked woman. Some whispered that he had long conspired with her, waiting for the right moment to divorce his wife. Others claimed the pair had planned to poison Ping Yi.

Everyone had witnessed Ping Yi’s conduct toward her husband’s family over the years. Now, Master Wu was so reviled he dared not leave his house. Even so, Ping Yi’s brothers cornered him and gave him a beating. The Ping family sent someone to inventory the Wu family’s assets, and under the direction of the clan elders, everything was transferred to Ping Yi. If she divorced, the Wu family would be left penniless.

On the third evening, when news of Ah Jiao’s suicide reached Lu Ying, she found she merely paused for a moment before returning to her usual composure.

She felt no unease!

To end a life with her own hands—no, two lives, counting the child in Ah Jiao’s womb—and yet she felt no remorse, no terror? When had her heart grown so cold?

Lu Ying startled herself. She had always known she was distant, wary and indifferent toward most things, with a streak of cruelty deep within. But she had not expected that, after a single illness, she would come to regard human life so lightly.

That night, after a quarter hour of deep reflection, Lu Ying picked up the Doctrine of the Mean and read with utmost seriousness. Indeed, the teachings of sages brought calm—within half an hour, she had set aside thoughts of Ah Jiao.

The next day dawned bright and clear. In this radiant spring, the golden sunlight always seemed to stir a bittersweet melancholy in youth. Rising early, Lu Ying glanced at the pink blossoms nearby, her lips curving in a distracted smile, before turning toward the Ping family’s great house.

Even before she drew near, the laughter of girls carried over the courtyard wall. Looking up, she saw a swing soaring high, a corner of pink fluttering in the air—a cousin, no doubt.

Her cousins, sheltered by their parents, lived in comfort and pride, their hands never rough like hers.

Her lips tugged in a wry smile. Yet, she mused, they had never tasted the joy and freedom she and her brother now enjoyed.

At the side gate, the woman guarding it spotted Lu Ying and called out, "Oh, cousin, you’re early! Any later, and the sun would be past noon." She clicked her tongue, her expression sharp and mocking.

Lu Ying merely smiled and lowered her head, walking straight past into the courtyard.

This woman, Aunt He, was a lifelong servant of the Ping household, her family having served for three generations, which lent her some influence. She had never quarreled with Lu Ying, but disliked her for that perpetually calm, indifferent face, and for her inability to flatter. Hmph, what airs? Just a fallen branch—does she really think herself equal to the sons and daughters of great families?

Passing through the corridor, Lu Ying reached a small garden where maids bustled and laughter rang out. From afar, a plainly dressed young woman smiled gently, "A Ying, here to pay your respects? I heard you were badly hurt last time. Ah, you’re always so careless."

At this, Lu Ying’s eyes brightened with a hint of a smile. "Good morning, Sister Qing."

Sister Qing nodded, lowering her voice, "You’ve healed, but why wait until today to come? Your third aunt said something about it yesterday."

Her third aunt came from a powerful family and held sway in the Ping household—Lu Ying had always been a little wary of her.

But in this world, one fears only those from whom one needs something. The Ping household gave little to her and her brother, yet could dictate their marriages. Even if she resolved the engagement with Master Zeng, her future marriage would still be decided by the Ping family. Most likely, it would be her third aunt who meddled in their affairs. She had to find a way to escape this fate.

As Lu Ying pondered, a lively chatter drifted from nearby, "I’ve never seen such a handsome, noble young man in all my life." "He smiled at me—ah, when he did, my heart nearly leapt from my chest."

"Did you hear? All the young ladies from the Yang and Cheng families went to see him, and several of ours did too—third, fifth, and sixth cousins." "Even fifth cousin?" "Of course! She dressed up beautifully. Sister Luo said that nobleman is a lord with his own lands, perhaps the next Prince of Shu. He’s not yet betrothed. If one of our girls caught his eye, even as a maid, the family would rise to greatness."

Lu Ying paused in surprise. Ah Yin went too? Was that prince so desirable that even being a concubine or maid to him was considered an honor? Suddenly, she realized that her cousin, whom she had regarded as a close friend, thought very differently from herself.