As the sedan chair curtain fell, Yu Chuwei's fingertips brushed against the plum blossom hairpin hidden in her sleeve. In the secret compartment of the hairpin's head, a half-piece of blood-stained fox fur material was gleaming faintly.
In the twilight, the Yongchang Marquis's mansion suddenly erupted in the deafening sound of a suona, startling the red lanterns beneath the eaves and shaking violently. Jiang Yuyao, dragged by Xinyi Zigu through the hanging flower gate, her wide-sleeved peach-pink shirt sweeping the firecracker debris from the ground, like a dying fire.
"Mother!" she suddenly turned back toward the pavilion and screamed, her gold-inlaid jade earrings gleaming coldly. Xu was feeding Jiang Songyi crystal grapes, her peacock-blue armor gleaming coldly in the twilight, without even raising her eyelids.
Madam Qi tightened her grip on the fan and asked, "Madam Hou, do you really not care?"
"It saves thirty loads of dowry." Jiang Songyi spat out the grape seeds and watched them roll into the lotus pond, creating ripples. "It's just right for making some new winter clothes for Mother."
Suddenly, the sound of cups and plates shattering could be heard from the front yard. Peng Yuyan rushed into the pavilion, her skirt in hand, her Xiang Fei-colored scarf wrapped around a dead branch. "How cruel, the county lady! Her own sisters have been humiliated!"
"Peng!" Wu chased after her, her golden hairpin tilted with exhaustion. "Why don't you apologize to the Marquis' wife?"
Jiang Songyi slowly wiped her fingertips, her wide, moon-white sleeves sliding down to reveal the hideous scars on her wrists. "Is this shawl made of the floating brocade we received as tribute last year?" She suddenly chuckled. "I heard that when my cousin was providing disaster relief in Longxi, he gave bran to the refugees."
Peng Yuyan's face suddenly changed, and she was about to explode when Wu held her back tightly. The wife of the Yongchang Earl looked at the receding sedan chair and suddenly collapsed into the arms of a maid—her poor daughter, now wearing a burnt veil, was entering the palace to express her gratitude!
On the palace road, common people crowded together to enjoy the excitement. An old man selling candy figurines stood on tiptoe to look around and asked, "That young lady in pink on the horse, could she be the Fourth Prince's concubine?"
"What concubine?" the woman with the vegetable basket spat. "I heard she's a maidservant who came with the bride's dowry and is eager to climb into her master's bed on the wedding day."
These words drifted into the sedan chair on the autumn breeze. Yu Chuwei stroked the charred veil and raised the corner of her lips. Suddenly, the curtain of the sedan chair was blown away by a strong wind. Jiang Yuyao rode her horse alongside the sedan chair, her peach-pink sleeves brushing her eyes. "Sister, do you know about last year's winter hunting?"
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