Chapter 22: Are You Out of Your Mind?

When Shen Qianmo returned to the Duke’s Mansion, she inquired and, as expected, learned that Shen Qianxue had suffered a miscarriage. However, Madam Cui had ordered the servants to keep the matter strictly confidential; anyone who leaked the news would be flogged to death.

Shen Qianmo understood Madam Cui’s fear. If the Prince of Rong’s household found out, the engagement could fall through.

How could the dignified heir to the Prince of Rong marry a woman who became pregnant before marriage, thus compromising her virtue? Even as a concubine, it wouldn’t be acceptable. Now the child was gone—how could Shen Qianxue ever guarantee the baby was Meng Yunce’s?

Yet, the Duke’s household was unprepared for what happened next: the very next day, the Prince of Rong’s estate learned of Shen Qianxue’s miscarriage.

The Princess of Rong personally arrived, demanding the engagement be annulled, fierce and uncompromising. Shen Yi’an, though pained for his daughter, was powerless to rebut, his confidence diminished. In the end, he had to invite the old Madam Shen to intervene.

The Princess of Rong still held some respect for the old Madam.

Years ago, the old Duke had saved the former emperor and was granted noble titles for generations; Madam Shen herself was honored as a First Rank Lady and had ties with the Empress Dowager. Yet after the deaths of the old Duke and his eldest son, she withdrew to the Buddha Hall, weary of worldly affairs, and the Duke’s household had steadily declined.

But for the sake of the Empress Dowager, the Princess of Rong could not disregard Madam Shen’s dignity. After negotiation, the Prince of Rong’s household agreed to let Shen Qianxue marry in, but the position of secondary consort was out of the question; she would enter as a concubine.

Madam Shen knew this was the best possible outcome. She had not intended to meddle in Cui’s affairs with her daughter, but the issue was serious. If the Prince of Rong’s household successfully withdrew from the engagement, Shen Qianxue would be branded as having engaged in an illicit affair, and the Duke’s mansion could not afford such disgrace.

When Shen Qianxue learned of this, she fainted again in anger. Not only had she lost her position as a secondary consort, but now the child was gone as well. She had hoped to rise in status as the mother of the heir, perhaps even become principal wife, but now she would be only a concubine.

She knew all too well how low the status of a concubine was, and with her proud temperament, how could she endure it?

But what choice did she have? Was there any better option? Raging in her room, she vented her anger by striking the maids around her one by one, yet her fury was not assuaged.

“Shen Qianmo, you’re ruthless!” she thought bitterly, “I’ll settle this score with you someday! As long as I draw breath, I won’t let you live in peace!”

In her mind, Shen Qianmo must have seen through her and her mother’s schemes, seizing the opportunity for revenge, and so she blamed everything on Shen Qianmo.

But Shen Qianmo had no time to concern herself with Madam Cui and her daughter’s thoughts.

They had tried to harm her again and again; she had planned to settle accounts with them. Yet seeing Shen Qianxue’s miserable fate, she had no desire to kick someone when they were down. Shen Qianxue would soon be married off anyway, and she doubted any more trouble would arise.

Besides, she was busy packing her belongings, for tomorrow she would accompany Xie Mingyu for a brief stay in Suzhou.

Xie Mingyu had recently visited the abbot Liuhe of White Deer Academy in the suburbs, and upon returning to the capital, heard of Shen Qianmo’s punishment by flogging. Known for his gentle temperament, even Mingyu was unusually angered. He immediately visited Shen Yi’an at the Duke’s mansion, and used his grandfather Piao Miao’s eightieth birthday as a pretext to propose taking Shen Qianmo to Suzhou for the celebration, claiming it was his father Song Yue’s wish.

As Xie Mingyu spoke reasonably and convincingly, Shen Yi’an had no choice but to agree.

Having long heard of the famed Piao Miao and Song Yue, Shen Qianmo looked forward to the trip to Suzhou.

After finishing her packing, it was already late in the night. Shen Qianmo sent Lüzhu, Qingluo, and Madam Xu off to rest, draped an outer robe over herself, and sat by the window to organize her thoughts about several recent cases.

People of this era generally retired early, but Shen Qianmo was accustomed to thinking late at night when all was quiet, as her mind was clearest then. It was a habit from her modern life, one she had yet to break.

Suddenly, a breeze fluttered the oil lamp.

Shen Qianmo looked up. Before her stood a tall, handsome man, cold and elegant as jade, clothed in dark robes, his black hair casually tied, eyes deep as the sea, sharp yet alluring.

“Prince Xuan?” Shen Qianmo blinked, making sure she wasn’t seeing things.

Meng Yuanheng nodded, seized a chair, and sat opposite her. Noticing the neatly stacked books on her desk, he casually picked one up, glanced at the cover, and remarked with some surprise, “So you’re fond of reading.”

There wasn’t even a trace of cosmetics on the table—how much did this woman dislike dressing up?

Shen Qianmo watched his fluid movements, combined with his striking appearance and noble bearing, admitting inwardly he was indeed pleasing to the eye.

She mentally berated herself and banished such thoughts, then asked with some displeasure, “What brings Prince Xuan here so late?”

Was he addicted to breaking into her room? He walked in as if he owned the place, utterly familiar.

Meng Yuanheng raised his brows slightly, his tone indifferent, “I came to see if you’ve grown wiser these days, but the Duke’s guards are really lacking.”

Shen Qianmo rolled her eyes in silent response. Seeing him reach for her cup of tea and raise it to his lips, she quickly stopped him, “Hey, that’s my cup.”

Meng Yuanheng ignored her, took a graceful sip, and shot her a glance, “I was thirsty.”

His tone clearly implied: I’ve been here so long and you haven’t offered tea, so I had to drink yours.

Watching him drink so contentedly from her cup, Shen Qianmo could only brew him a fresh one, replacing her own as well—she wasn’t one to share cups.

Meng Yuanheng’s gaze darkened at this, then he picked up a slip of paper she had been scribbling on. Upon seeing the words “Wuji Sect,” his expression turned grim.

“How do you know about the Wuji Sect?” he asked her as she poured tea.

Shen Qianmo turned, saw the note in his hand—she had written it while contemplating case clues earlier. Seeing Meng Yuanheng’s serious face, she guessed he knew of the Wuji Sect as well.

“Why bother asking, Prince Xuan? Aren’t you the one who knows my affairs best?” Shen Qianmo snorted. “After days of watching, have you found a reason to dissolve the engagement?”

He knew she’d been flogged in the Duke’s mansion and sent medicine, knew she disguised herself as a man and intervened, knew she was set up by Madam Cui and her daughter and switched the horses, and even the miscarriage news might have been leaked by him—otherwise, with Madam Cui’s precautions, the Prince of Rong’s household wouldn’t have learned so quickly.

But if he wanted to break off the engagement, why help her so many times? This, she couldn’t fathom.

“Break off the engagement? Why do you think I want that?” Meng Yuanheng asked, puzzled.

Shen Qianmo glanced at his intact legs and said calmly, “It seems Prince Xuan is not as physically impaired as rumors claim. In that case, how could someone like