Sun Qingi silently clenched her sleeves, her nails nearly digging into her palms.
She raised her eyes, her gaze slowly sweeping over the hall filled with vile creatures. Every face was twisted with malice and ugliness.
Her once-beloved husband, Shangguan Xuan, sat loftily on the high master’s seat, looking down upon her like a king surveying ants.
Since their marriage, Sun Qingi had dutifully upheld her role as a virtuous wife, adhering to the teachings of her late father and brother, striving to be a proper mistress of the marquis’s household. All she wanted was to avoid conflict, serve her in-laws, raise children, and live a peaceful life.
But now, the threshold of the marquis’s mansion had grown too high for her. Despite her tireless efforts in managing the household, her husband had brought ho a new woman, and everyone had taken his side, trampling her underfoot while fawning over him. It seed that if she refused to accept Zhao Qing as a "co-wife," she would be branded a villain.
Was there no justice in this world?
A bitter ache filled Sun Qingi’s heart. She knew that if she didn’t yield tonight, only an abyss awaited her. Lowering her eyes, she spoke softly, "It’s late. Tomorrow is Mother’s birthday. Let’s discuss this after the celebrations."
Her words sounded like surrender.
Outside, the sky had darkened, and the hour was indeed late. The old madam’s sixtieth birthday was a grand affair, and Sun Qingi was the one orchestrating the banquet. If tensions escalated tonight, the festivities tomorrow would surely be ruined.
"Very well," the old madam said, relieved at Sun Qingi’s apparent submission. "Xuan’er has traveled far. Let him rest well tonight."
Sun Qingi forced a gentle smile, as if she had finally co to terms with the situation. She stepped forward and addressed Shangguan Xuan with a serene expression, "Husband, I’ll have the maids prepare hot water for your bath. As for Miss Zhao Qing, I’ll arrange a spacious courtyard for her."
Shangguan Xuan finally relaxed.
He studied his wife from his lofty perch—her delicate features, the embroidered peony brocade robe that accentuated her slender fra. She was the epito of a refined gentlewoman, raised to be demure and virtuous. But Shangguan Xuan had grown weary of such docility. He preferred won like Zhao Qing—ambitious and cunning.
Seeing Sun Qingi yield so easily only deepened his contempt. Truly, a pampered noblewoman, buckling under the slightest pressure.
In secret, Shangguan Xuan plotted. Once Zhao Qing beca his co-wife, he would find an excuse to divorce Sun Qingi. He only needed one true wife.
"Enough, everyone retire for the night," the old madam declared, and the hall emptied as people took their leave.
Shangguan Xuan did not return to Sun Qingi’s chambers, choosing instead to sleep in the study. Sun Qingi did not protest, calmly instructing the servants to prepare bedding for him.
The night grew darker, and the mansion’s residents settled into their beds.
In Sun Qingi’s chamber, a lone candle flickered, casting dim light. She sat by the table, staring blankly at the fla.
A cold winter wind rattled the window, forcing it open and letting in a frigid gust. With a soft snap, the candle was extinguished, and a sword hanging on the wall clattered to the ground.
"Madam, you should rest," Little Cha said, shutting the window and relighting the candle.
She picked up the fallen sword, inspected it for damage, and rehung it.
Little Cha was Sun Qingi’s only maidservant from her dowry, and the two were as close as sisters. Seeing her mistress so despondent, Little Cha’s heart ached, and tears slipped down her cheeks. "Madam, when under another’s roof, one must bow their head. The marquis has betrayed you, but you’re already wed to him... there’s no choice. If we remain obedient, perhaps he’ll rember your kindness soday."
Outside, the wind howled louder.
Sun Qingi closed her eyes briefly before murmuring, "Little Cha, this winter is so cold."
So cold that even tears refused to fall.
Little Cha frowned, puzzled by her mistress’s strange remark.
Sun Qingi rose slowly and took down the ancient sword from the wall. Its scabbard was adorned with faded engravings, the blade chipped and rusted.
"Madam?" Little Cha’s brow furrowed.
Sun Qingi sighed deeply, gripping the sword tightly. "Before my brother passed, he told to be a virtuous wife and mother, to serve my husband and raise children. But he was wrong. The kinder I am, the more others trample upon ."
Little Cha considered this and realized the truth in her words. Sun Qingi’s gentle nature had only emboldened the marquis’s household to push her further.
"Little Cha, prepare the carriage. I’m going to the princess’s residence," Sun Qingi declared, unsheathing the rusted blade.
Though dull, the sword could still cut through tangled threads.
Her father had once told her that in battle, victory lay in swift and decisive action.
On that bitterly cold winter night, an unassuming carriage slipped out the back gate of the marquis’s mansion, heading toward the princess’s estate.
...
...
The wind howled relentlessly through the night, rattling the two trees in the courtyard of Liuli Pavilion. When Shen Wei awoke, the ground was strewn with dead leaves. Nanny Rong was directing a group of young eunuchs to sweep them away.
With no pressing matters today, Shen Wei was at leisure.
The old madam of the South Garrison Marquis's Mansion was celebrating her birthday, and Shen Wei had personally selected a fitting gift, instructing the steward to deliver it.
Prince Yan had yet to return. Shen Wei guessed he was buried in work at the Ministry of War and the Eastern Palace, likely staying there until the composite bows were perfected.
While her husband toiled away, Shen Wei played the role of the dutiful wife, ensuring his comfort. She turned to Cai Lian and said, "Prepare so warm als and send them to the Ministry of War at noon. Make sure soone watches him eat. Also, pack extra winter clothes and dicine in case he falls ill."
Cai Lian nodded eagerly. "At once, mistress."
By afternoon, a sliver of sunlight pierced the overcast sky. Shen Wei, sensitive to the cold, stayed in the warm pavilion, amusing herself with the children. Li Yao scampered in to play with her little sister, the two girls crawling about on a soft woolen rug, their laughter ringing like silver bells.
Shen Wei reclined in a plush chair, brush in hand, contemplating her plans to expand her business. Cai Ping rushed in, eyes alight with excitent. "Mistress! Shocking news!"
Cai Ping was a gossipmonger by nature, always eager for the latest rumors, whether from Prince Yan's Mansion or all of Yanjing City.
"What now?" Shen Wei asked with a smile.
Cai Ping blurted, "The marquis’s wife, Madam Sun—she tried to kill herself!"
Shen Wei nearly dropped her brush.
What? Suicide?
Cai Ping quickly clarified, "Don’t panic, mistress! She’s fine. Let explain."
According to rumors, Shangguan Xuan had returned ho with Zhao Qing the previous day, declaring his intent to make her his "co-wife." Sun Qingi, usually so ek, had shocked everyone by leaving the mansion that night to seek an audience with Zhao Yang Princess.
Zhao Yang, infamous for her hatred of unfaithful n, had taken Sun Qingi straight to the palace to plead their case to the empress. However, it was already late, and the emperor and empress had retired. The old maidservant at Kunning Palace, unwilling to disturb them, had turned Sun Qingi away, telling her to return the next day.
Sun Qingi knelt directly at the entrance of Kunning Palace, holding her late father’s sword in her hands. Father Sun had once used this very blade to save the emperor’s life, and now Sun Qingi declared that if the emperor and empress refused to grant her justice, she would take her own life with it.
The sword of a ritorious official had rusted over ti, and the last remaining daughter of his household now sought to end her life before the imperial court—a scandal that would surely tarnish the emperor’s reputation.
With a sigh, the emperor summoned Sun Qingi.
No one knew exactly what she said in the imperial presence, but when Sun Qingi left Kunning Palace, she carried with her an edict of divorce—sanctioned by the throne itself.
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