Outside Jingsi Hall, a thin layer of fallen petals, like a layer of snow, had already accumulated beneath the pear tree. From afar, it resembled a painting lightly stained with ink. Liu's face was gloomy as she stared intently at the half-dead crabapple tree outside the window, her heart filled with resentment and unwillingness surging like a tide. Her nails scraped against the mottled window frame, making a harsh sound, as if she wanted to vent all her resentment on the old window frame.
Since her confinement, her situation has plummeted. Even the maid who brought her water dared to bully her, deliberately tilting the copper basin. The icy water trickled down her washed-out, plain dress, sending the chill piercing her skin and piercing her heart. This morning, through the crack in the door, she saw Su Qingyao herself, wearing the gold-woven brocade dress she had meticulously custom-made at the Jiangnan Embroidery Workshop just last year. The phoenix-shaped pearl pattern on the hem shimmered in the sunlight, dazzling her eyes. Su Qingyao was chatting and laughing with Madam Li in the garden. The red-gold and kingfisher-embellished hairpin on her temples was the one that Liu had gifted her stepdaughter just last month. Thinking of this, Liu's eyes grew more resentful, and her hands unconsciously clenched, her nails digging deep into her palms.
"Madam, the eldest daughter is here," Madam Zhou, the personal nanny, whispered softly. The ginseng tea she held swayed slightly in the celadon cup, reflecting the lingering tears in her eyes. Her trembling hands betrayed her nervousness and helplessness.
The carved diamond-shaped door creaked open, letting a rich, fragrant breeze blew into the room. Su Qingyao entered the hall with light steps. She wore a pomegranate-red silk dress embroidered with gold, the hem of which swayed gently as she walked, like a pomegranate blossom blooming in the wind. The Nine Phoenix Rising Sun hairpin on her head shone with a dazzling brilliance, each step gleaming with luxurious light. Her gold-embroidered shoes treaded over the fallen petals on the threshold, making a delicate, crisp sound, as if playing a proud melody. She clutched a silver-red silk handkerchief embroidered with twin lotus flowers, gently covering her mouth and nose, her gaze slowly sweeping across the hall. When she caught sight of the spider web woven in the corner, her brows furrowed slightly, a subtle movement that betrayed her deep disdain. "Stepmother, my father sent me to see you." Su Qingyao's voice was crisp and melodious, but in the silent hall, it seemed a little cold.
Liu raised her eyes, and her gaze fell on the jade bracelet on her stepdaughter's wrist, and her eyes froze instantly. That was the best of her dowry, with a soft texture and a juicy emerald green color. Last year, when Su Qingyao came of age, she reluctantly gave it away in order to win over this concubine's daughter. Now, the bracelet against Su Qingyao's snow-white wrist seemed to belong to her by nature. "Are you here to laugh at me?" Liu suddenly sneered, her laughter was sharp and piercing, and her dry fingers clenched the cuffs tightly, as if she wanted to crush the fabric. "Su Qingyao, don't forget, who is behind you to make you what you are today!" Her voice was a bit hysterical, echoing in this small hall.
"Stepmother, you're joking." Su Qingyao raised an eyebrow slightly, her expression nonchalant. She pulled a brocade box from her sleeve and gently placed it on the dusty table. The box was embroidered with intricate and exquisite lotus patterns, the needlework delicate and lifelike, clearly worth its weight in gold. "This is the latest 'Drunken Clouds' rouge. Father said... you should rest well." Her tone was calm, yet a hint of distance lingered.
Liu's eyes fell on the brocade box, and her thoughts were instantly pulled back to the day of her coming-of-age banquet. Su Jinli stood quietly in front of the guests with her bare face. She was wearing a moon-white skirt, which was even more simple, elegant and clean than the rouge box. Thinking of this, the jealousy in her heart suddenly rose. She suddenly stretched out her hand, grabbed the brocade box, and smashed it to the ground. With a crisp "pop" sound, the rose-red rouge cream instantly shattered into pieces, splashing on the blue bricks, like a pool of coagulated blood, which was shocking. "I don't need it! Give this thing to that little bitch Su Jinli! Doesn't she love to show off? If she can't get married in the future, let's see how she can gain a foothold in the capital!" Liu roared hysterically, her eyes full of madness and resentment.
Su Qingyao looked at the mess of rouge on the ground, then cast her gaze at Liu. Her hair was disheveled, with many strands of white in it, and she looked particularly haggard and disheveled. Su Qingyao's eyes gradually turned cold, like a bottomless pool of ice. "Stepmother, please take care of yourself first." With that, she turned and walked away. The hem of her pomegranate-red skirt swept past Liu's feet like a flame, stirring a gust of wind that mercilessly swept the rouge crumbs from the ground to the hem of her skirt.
Returning to Yaohua Garden, Su Qingyao slowly removed the golden hairpin from her hair and quietly gazed at her gorgeously made-up face in the bronze mirror. The figure in the mirror had eyebrows as delicate and soft as the outline of distant mountains; her lips were like cinnabar, like a blooming red plum, delicate and alluring, exactly the look most sought after by the daughters of wealthy families in the capital. Yet, for some reason, Su Qingyao suddenly felt that this makeup was somewhat dull, as if something important was missing. Her thoughts drifted involuntarily to Su Jinli, whom she had seen in the front yard that morning—the younger sister in a light green skirt, like a breath of fresh green on a spring day, strolling leisurely behind the rockery, a book in her arms. Sunlight gently filtered through the gaps between the crabapple petals, casting a shadow on her plain face. Her eyes, free of any trace of timidity, were instead startlingly bright, revealing a unique confidence and composure.
"Miss, this is the Beijing storybook you requested." The maid walked into the room with a pile of books in her arms. The top one had a cover depicting a woman holding a divorce letter. It was Su Jinli's "The Concubine's Daughter's Shocking Beauty."
Su Qingyao casually flipped open the book, her eyes falling on the scene where the legitimate daughter schemes to expose her stepmother's scheme. The corners of her mouth curled up unconsciously. She recalled Liu's hysterical expression in the Jingsi Hall, and Su Jinli's calm composure as she exposed her gambling debts at her coming-of-age banquet. A ripple of emotion welled up in her heart. This sister, whom she had never taken seriously before, now seemed somewhat unpredictable to her, as if she hid many unknown sides, becoming even more intriguing.
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