Now that the truth was revealed, Zhang Shi knew he was completely done for. He colpsed to the ground, limp.

  Madam Zhang was still begging for mercy on his behalf.

  Song Huaiyu sighed. “To indulge a son is no different than killing him. If you hadn’t spoiled him so deliberately, if you’d properly taught him the meaning of filial piety, how could he have committed such a grave mistake?”

  “But, Your Excellency,” Madam Zhang cried out, “my son is filial—truly! He didn’t mean it. He thought I had died, so he wanted to burn the body and help me pass on. And look—he had no money, yet instead of just digging a hole and burying me, he sold off our belongings, borrowed money, and gave me a proper funeral. Doesn’t that show his sincerity? Your Excellency, my son is just zy and gluttonous, but he’s not a bad person!”

  “Beyond saving,” Song Huaiyu shook his head again and turned to Wang Banxian. “Wang Banxian, you trafficked in superstition, spoke nonsense, and misled Zhang Shi into destroying evidence. Do you admit your guilt?”

  Wang Banxian stammered, “Your Excellency, I… I just made a guess based on the story Zhang Shi told me…”

  Song Huaiyu raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

  Wang Banxian immediately bowed his head in submission and confessed.

  The case wasn’t rge, but it was yered with twists and turns. Though Song Huaiyu had unraveled it all, as Investigating Officer, he only had the authority to investigate and record, not pass final judgment. That would be left to the Kaifeng Prefect.

  The legal secretary came forward and had Zhang Shi sign and pce his fingerprint on the written case record. Madam Zhang was still kneeling on the ground, pleading bitterly, looking truly pitiful. The legal secretary, feeling sympathetic, said, “You’ve gone three days without food. Your body’s already weak—don’t exhaust yourself further. The w is strict, yes, but in the end, you weren’t killed or burned. The punishment for your son will be light. Even if he’s sentenced, it won’t be for long.”

  “R-really?” Madam Zhang’s eyes were swollen and red. She was an illiterate woman who didn’t understand the legal system, and had thought her son committed a capital offense. Hearing this, her heart rexed a bit, and she quickly dragged Zhang Shi over to kowtow in gratitude.

  —

  It had been a long day, and the sky had already turned dark.

  Dongchun helped Ji Ping’an onto the carriage. Ji Ping’an deliberately wobbled and almost fell right off.

  Song Zhiyin caught her with a steady hand. “Little Cousin, your body’s really too frail.”

  Ji Ping’an gave her a weak smile. “An illness from the womb. Forgive me for making you ugh.”

  Song Huaiyu gave Ji Ping’an a deep, unreadable look, then mounted his horse.

  After turning down three streets, they arrived at the Song Residence.

  By now, it was night, and the gate should have already been closed. But since Song Huaiyu and the others hadn’t returned, the family had sent someone to wait at the gate, which remained open.

  Ji Ping’an had refreshed her makeup inside the carriage. Now her face looked even paler than before.

  She and Dongchun followed behind Song Huaiyu and Song Zhiyin.

  In the inner courtyard, Song Huaiyu personally escorted Ji Ping’an, then prepared to take his leave.

  Just as he csped his hands and turned to go, he suddenly paused, turned back, and said, “Miss Ji, your medical skill… is quite impressive.”

  “I’ve just been sick for so long, I picked up a few things,” Ji Ping’an replied modestly with a smile.

  Song Zhiyin’s gaze flickered teasingly between Ji Ping’an and Song Huaiyu’s retreating back. She grinned and tugged Ji Ping’an inside. “Grandmother, Mother—we’re back.”

  “What took you so long to return?”

  As soon as they entered, Old Madam Song spoke up. Upon seeing Ji Ping’an, she immediately unched into warm praise.

  Ji Ping’an lowered her head bashfully and offered her greetings.

  In the original novel, the original Ji Ping’an was just a minor background NPC. There were barely any details about her. By the time she first appeared, she’d already been living in the Song Residence for a while. It was mentioned that on her first day, due to improper etiquette, the servants ughed at her, and that was when Song Huaizhang stepped in and scolded the servants, sparking the original owner’s first feelings for him.

  If even the original owner, born and raised here, couldn’t manage perfect manners, then Ji Ping’an, an outsider, had even less chance.

  So when it came time to greet the family, Ji Ping’an pretended her body was too weak and colpsed straight to the floor.

  Dongchun caught Ji Ping’an just in time, as if on cue.

  “Oh dear, what happened?” asked Old Madam Song. “Quickly, come sit down.”

  Song Zhiyin sat beside her mother, Madam Song, and expined, “Grandmother, Mother, Little Cousin has always been frail. The long journey has taken a toll—she was already feeling unwell on the way back. I think she’s pushed herself too far and is completely drained.”

  “Oh, poor child,” Old Madam Song took Ji Ping’an’s hand—it was icy cold to the touch. “So young, yet how is your body already so weak?”

  Ji Ping’an covered her mouth and gave a soft cough, her voice light and breathy. “No one gets everything in life. In many ways, I’ve already lived far better than most common folk. I can’t expect every blessing.”

  “Sigh…”

  Seeing her pale as snow, Old Madam Song grew even more distressed. She immediately had the warm dishes brought out and carefully picked out the lightest, most nourishing bites to pce in Ji Ping’an’s bowl.

  Madam Song, Concubine Xiao Man, and Xiao Man's daughter, Song Zhishu, noticed Ji Ping’an’s delicate, sickly appearance. Finding nothing to criticize, they offered a few polite words and quietly excused themselves.

  After the meal, Old Madam Song, still worried about Ji Ping’an’s fragile health, instructed the servants to take her to the room they had prepared so she could rest.

  Once they returned to the room, and only Dongchun was left at her side, Ji Ping’an finally let her guard down.

  This entire day had been more exhausting than a hospital night shift.

  But at least, she’d passed the first round. The Song family now believed she truly was weak and sickly.

  She nibbled on a few delicate pastries and drank some water, brought in earlier by Dongchun. In truth, she’d barely eaten anything earlier for the sake of appearances.

  While Ji Ping’an rested, Dongchun couldn’t yet. She and Musheng still had to unpack the gifts prepared in the carriage, rewrap them neatly, and present them the next day.

  They had been meant for today, but it was simply too te to deliver them properly.

  —

  The next morning, the Ji family’s gifts arrived.

  Madam Song, Chen Wanyu, examined the boxes filled with pearls and jade. “These are real treasures,” she murmured.

  “The quality is exquisite,” she added, admiring the gleam of a jade bangle.

  Now that they were alone, Song Zhiyin dropped all pretense and clung to her mother’s arm pyfully. “Mother, your skin is so fair—this jade bracelet looks perfect on you. But what about this pearl neckce? Could you give it to me?”

  Chen Wanyu shot her a look. “What are you saying? Didn’t the Ji family give you your own meeting gift?”

  “They did,” Song Zhiyin said, “but it was mostly cloth and fabric. Nothing as pretty as these pearls.”

  Truthfully, while the Song family was still a first-rank official household and had no shortage of jade and jewelry, most of their valuable pieces were heirlooms passed down through generations. As the legitimate young dy of the Minister’s residence, Song Zhiyin had a busy social calendar—banquets, outings, visits—so she needed new jewelry to match her standing. Wearing the same pieces over and over again made it obvious that the household hadn't added to its wealth in years. Even exquisite heirlooms, when recycled too often, hinted at hard times.

  “Sigh…” Chen Wanyu csped the pearl neckce around Song Zhiyin’s neck. “Your father and brothers have respectable saries, but with a house this rge and so many expenses, my hands are still tight. I’m sorry you have to make do.”

  Song Zhiyin patted her mother’s hand. “Don’t worry, Mother. I noticed Little Cousin brought plenty of fine things this time. Didn’t you say you lost money investing in the rice depot st winter, and the household deficit hasn’t been patched? You were worried Father would find out and bme you? Well, now Little Cousin is family. She’s going to be living here, eating and drinking with us—naturally, we should support each other. We’ll be taking care of her for years.”

  “I understand what you mean.” Chen Wanyu ran her fingers over the jade bangle again. “Ping’an’s part of the family now—there’s no need for formality. If one of us struggles, we all help each other. But she just lost her father and came to Bianjing all alone. If we start asking her for money now, she may grow resentful. Luckily, her father sent over a sum of silver before he passed. That should tide us over for now.”

  “I think Little Cousin is generous by nature. If she realizes we’re in trouble, she’ll offer help herself. Don’t stress too much, Mother.”

  Song Zhiyin took off the pearl neckce, carefully pced it on a tray, called her maid Bilu to return it to her room, and then went off to make social rounds.

  Her cheerful personality and sweet words made her quite popur. By the end, she had received several gifts:

  —A pair of earrings and a white jade bracelet from Old Madam Song,

  —A complete set of schor's tools from her eldest brother, Song Huaizhang,

  —A painting and calligraphy set from her second brother, Song Huaiyu,

  —And a turquoise hairpin that was regifted to her by Concubine Xiao Man.

  She left with her arms full, and on her way out, she even gave Song Zhishu a smug look.

  Song Zhishu snorted. “Mother, I wanted that turquoise hairpin too.”

  Being the legitimate daughter, Song Zhiyin was naturally favored. She was never short on gold or jewels when she went out. But Song Zhishu—being born of a concubine—wasn’t so lucky. The Xiao family had long since declined, and there wasn’t much left to pass down. And while the first wife always found ways to shortchange them, now even gifts specifically addressed to “them” were ending up with Song Zhiyin?

  It was infuriating.

  Xiao Man wasn’t the type to argue. She simply said, “Zhiyin is your elder sister. What’s the point in fighting her?”

  “Am I the one starting fights? She’s the one bullying me!” Song Zhishu’s eyes were rimmed red with frustration. “You always side with outsiders against your own daughter. If you won’t stand up for me, then I’ll do it myself.”

  With that, she twisted her embroidered handkerchief and ran off.

  Back in her room, the more Song Zhishu thought about it, the angrier she got. She threw herself onto her desk and cried for a long time. Her maid Bilu tried to console her, whispering, “Fourth Miss, don’t cry. Don’t we still have the Eldest Princess?”

  Song Zhishu wiped her tears. “I just don’t understand. Why won’t Mother ever take my side? Why does she always tell me to yield to Third Sister no matter what? I know she’s older—I’m not trying to compete with her for everything. I just want to win once. Just once. I want Mother to be proud of me. To choose me for once. Do you understand, Bilu?”

  “I understand.” Bilu gently dabbed at her tears. “In a few days, it’ll be the Eldest Princess’s birthday. Miss has spent a whole year preparing that birthday gift. Once you present it, you’re sure to impress her and win her favor.”

  Song Zhishu nodded.

  The Eldest Princess was the Emperor’s older sister—twelve years his senior—and the most esteemed princess in the entire empire.

  Five years ago, her prince consort died in an accident while saving the Emperor. The two had grown up together and shared a deep bond. His death dealt her a devastating blow, so much so that she fell gravely ill. Several imperial physicians worked together to treat her for half a year just to keep her alive.

  Though her life was spared, the Eldest Princess was left with a strange affliction. At first, her abdomen grew increasingly rigid and swollen with pain. Then, by the winter before st, a new symptom appeared—every time she opened her mouth to speak, she would emit a foul stench.

  ___

  (Transtor Xiaobai: Could be a stomach ulcer. What do you think?)