The glaring red made Cui Yan's heart skip a beat.
Her eyes shifted from the inappropriate wedding dress to Yao Zhenyun's calm profile. As the intense emotions of surviving the ordeal subsided slightly, a sharp question surfaced in her mind.
After hesitating for a long time, Cui Yan finally couldn't help herself and asked in an unusually dry and weak voice: "Master Yao...you..."
Yao Zhenyun suddenly opened his eyes.
Her eyes were still dazzlingly bright in the shadows.
Cui Yan's heart trembled at his gaze. The words on the tip of her tongue became even more difficult and fearful. She stammered out the second half of the sentence: "...Aren't you afraid? You take me away like this. If we get to Jiangnan and Lord Yao knows the truth..."
She subconsciously hugged her arms tightly, as if just imagining Lord Yao's possible anger was enough to scare her to death.
Yao Zhenyun looked quietly at the fear and disbelief in her eyes.
He didn't rush to answer. His fingers tapped twice on the brocade cushion beneath him, barely perceptible, making a subtle "tap-tap" sound.
After a moment, an almost self-deprecating sneer escaped from his nose.
"Afraid? What should I be afraid of? Who is performing the wedding ceremony today? Who is escorting her to the bridal chamber? Outsiders see that it is me, Yao Zhenyun, marrying Sang Wenyin from the Sang family. As long as Sang Wenyin is here, this marriage is legitimate."
His gaze fixed sharply on Cui Yan's face, with an unmistakable coldness and command, "From now on, you are Sang Wenyin. At least in Jiangnan, in front of everyone, especially in front of my father—you must be!"
Cui Yan shuddered violently, and a chill ran down her back and up her head.
From then on, she lived as another person? A shadow that couldn't even have her own name?
Yao Zhenyun seemed to understand the turmoil in her heart. "You and I are both pitiful creatures, dragged into this quagmire by your foolish mistress for no reason. When she swore to the moon in the embroidery building, begging her lover to take her to the free sea and sky, did she ever imagine what would happen today, what kind of situation we would be in?"
His voice wasn't loud, not even rising or falling, but every word was filled with an icy chill. "When she acted so recklessly, did she ever consider anyone else for even a moment? No! So why should you and I bear the consequences for her?"
"She should taste the bitter fruit herself!"
The last sentence was so resounding that it made Cui Yan's ears buzz.
The carriage was dead silent.
Cui Yan fell completely silent. She lowered her head, and the last spark of fire in her eye sockets completely extinguished, leaving only a barren expanse of dead ash.
His eyes fell on the deep purple marks on his wrists, which was shocking.
Miss Sang Wenyin...
Those scenes suddenly emerged before her eyes. In her boudoir, Sang Wenyin spent all day and night holding the brocade handkerchief on which Liao Lingxi had written a love poem, staring at it intently, and muttering to herself as she watched the birds outside the window.
What a foolish obsession. It's so ridiculous and yet so pathetic.
Cui Yan curled up woodenly and slowly closed her eyes.
Miss... I'm leaving! Don't regret it later...
…
The remaining blood of the setting sun splashed at the end of the winding narrow alley in the north of the city.
A few rotten wooden boards nailed together crookedly could barely serve as the gate to the courtyard.
The gap in the door panel was big enough to fit a fist, and the wind easily squeezed through, bringing in a stale and moldy smell mixed with cheap cosmetics and a long period of lack of ventilation.
This is Liao Lingxi’s nest.
The yard is so small that you can walk from the east wall to the west wall in just a few steps.
In the corners of the walls leaned several broken jars, their mouths broken, with oily foam of indistinguishable color floating on the surface. A few shiny dirty clothes lay carelessly thrown on the muddy ground, weighing down a few clumps of weeds.
The smell in the house became stronger.
A bunk bed with peeling paint, its curtains gray and yellow with several large patches. A table with a rickety leg, the flame of the oil lamp dancing, casting several twisted and swaying shadows on the mottled wall.
The half-worn silk shirt on Liao Lingxi was open at the chest, revealing a white linen undershirt underneath. The collar was also pulled askew, revealing the hollow of his neck.
His hair was disheveled, and he sat on the edge of the bed, with a lazy look and a hint of subtle gloom on his face.
Kneeling on the ground was a young maidservant named Huan'er, who had been bought home less than three months ago.
A large hole was torn in the coarse cloth jacket he was wearing, revealing a piece of flesh on his shoulder that had been pinched purple.
Her hair was also pulled loose, and a few strands of hair stuck to her sweaty cheeks in a mess. Her head was pressed against the dirty ground, and her thin shoulders were shaking violently.
"Lift your feet! Where did you get the energy to climb onto the bed just now?" Liao Lingxi's voice was hoarse, and filled with uncontrollable anxiety and impatience.
He tapped the maid's bruised arm with his toes, neither lightly nor heavily, as if weighing an inanimate object. "My master asked me to serve him, and this is how you serve him?"
His voice suddenly rose, and Huan'er trembled with fear, like a broken leaf in the wind.
Huan'er took a deep breath and shook her head desperately with a crying voice. There was a hoarse sound in her throat, but she couldn't make a complete excuse.
Just then—
“Squeak—”
The rickety broken door was pushed open violently.
The golden-red light of the setting sun at the door pierced the dim room like a sharp sword. The figure outlined in the light and shadow was Sang Wenyin.
She was wearing a light green coarse cloth girl's shirt, with the simplest round bun in her hair, without any jewelry, and no makeup on her face. There was a layer of fine beads of sweat on her forehead, and her lips were cracked and peeling.
She avoided the people from the Sang Mansion along the way, mixed in with the servants who were escorting the bride, and finally found this remote place. She walked in a hurry and panic, and her chest was still heaving violently.
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