The chaos at Taiye Pond in the West Garden ended with Princess Yongjia fainting from anger and being carried back to her residence in a disheveled state. Xin Jiuwei's words, "clinging to the drowning," seemed to have wings, quickly spreading to the ears of every noblewoman present before she even left the painted boat. Those gazes, initially filled with disdain and schadenfreude, gradually turned to surprise and a hint of barely perceptible apprehension. This third young lady from the lowly Xin family of Yingzhou seemed not to be as weak and easily bullied as they had imagined.
Xin Jiuwei ignored it all. With her back straight, protected by Xin Kui, she stepped off the painted boat, facing the various gazes. The autumn wind, carrying the moisture from Taiye Pond, brushed against the hem of her damp skirt, chilling her to the bone. That dark water stain was like a brand of humiliation, or a silent battle flag.
Xin Kui silently followed half a step behind her, his eyes sharp as a hawk's, scanning anyone who might approach, shutting out any probing or malicious glances. Only after boarding the unassuming blue-curtained carriage of the Xin residence, shutting out the outside noise, did Xin Jiuwei almost imperceptibly relax her tense shoulders, leaning against the carriage wall and taking a deep breath. The carriage was filled with the scent of old wood and faint incense, the only tranquility she could find at that moment.
“Miss,” Xin Kui said in a low voice, with a hint of worry, “Princess Yongjia suffered a great loss today, I’m afraid…”
“I’m afraid she won’t let this go so easily.” Xin Jiuwei, with her eyes closed, finished her sentence. Her voice was tired but exceptionally clear. “I know. If she dares to frame someone in public today, she’ll dare to use even more despicable methods tomorrow. And those who are just watching the show, I made Yongjia lose face today, but they may not be happy about it.”
She opened her eyes, her gaze cold and clear. "Xiao Xun was right about this stagnant water in the capital; it's deep and murky. Now that I've stepped in, I have no intention of leaving cleanly." She looked at Xin Kui, the songstress she had implicated in her past life, who remained loyal to her in this one. "Xin Kui, are you afraid?"
A hint of ruthlessness, a product of past experiences, flashed across Xin Kui's eyes, before turning into an unwavering resolve: "Wherever Miss is, Xin Kui will be. Even mountains of knives and seas of fire are but a matter of life and death."
Xin Jiuwei felt a warmth in her heart and gently patted the back of her hand. In this cold capital city, she was not entirely alone and helpless.
The carriage rumbled through the bustling streets, finally stopping in a relatively quiet alley in the south of the city. The Xin family did not have a mansion in the capital, and Xin Jiuwei was temporarily staying in a small three-courtyard house that her mother had given her as part of her dowry. The courtyard gate was simple, with white walls and black tiles, appearing somewhat shabby compared to the surrounding grand and wealthy houses.
Xin Kui stepped forward and knocked on the door. The old servant, Uncle Zhong, who was guarding the door, opened it and was startled to see Xin Jiuwei's skirt soaked through: "Third Miss, what happened to you...?"
"It's alright, Uncle Zhong, just prepare some hot water." Xin Jiuwei didn't want to say anything more and walked straight through the small front yard toward her west wing room. Several autumn chrysanthemums in the yard were in full bloom, golden and bright, but they couldn't dispel the heavy chill in her heart.
Pushing open the door to the side room, a familiar warmth, tinged with a touch of old-fashioned charm, wafted out. The room was small and simply furnished, yet spotlessly clean. Xin Jiuwei's gaze habitually swept over the desk by the window, but her steps abruptly halted.
There was something new by the window frame.
A brand-new, moon-white brocade cloak was carefully hung on a brass hook by the window. The brocade was of the finest quality, flowing with a soft, watery sheen. The collar and edges were embroidered with an exquisitely delicate, almost imperceptible, lotus scroll pattern in silver thread, exuding an understated yet ineffable preciousness. The cloak's hem hung gracefully, as if still carrying the warmth of its owner's fingertips.
This is definitely not hers. Nor is it something that Xin Kui or Uncle Zhong could afford.
Xin Jiuwei's heart skipped a beat without warning, only to be overwhelmed by an even stronger wave of humiliation and anger! Xiao Xun! There could be no one else but him! Did he send it? Or... did he come in person?
She walked a few steps to the window, her fingertips touching the cool, smooth brocade. The delicate touch felt like a red-hot iron, burning her so intensely she recoiled. Images flashed before her eyes: the cold, calculating look in his eyes last night in the Sixth Prince's main hall when he publicly declared the mark on the back of her neck to be a "life-saving medicine"; the domineering way he used information about her brother to control her in the study; the aloof, indifferent posture he displayed on the pleasure boat…
A wave of intense nausea rose in her throat. Did he think that sending her a cloak would erase the humiliation he had inflicted? That it would negate his meticulously planned schemes? That it would make her willingly become a pawn on his chessboard, or even the… “antidote” for his warm bed?
"Heh..." A cold sneer escaped Xin Jiuwei's lips. She suddenly reached out and ripped the expensive moon-white cloak off the hook! The movement was rough, carrying a resolute determination as if everything was going to be destroyed.
"Miss?" Xin Kui was startled when she saw the basin of hot water as she entered.
Without even glancing at it, Xin Jiuwei clutched the soft yet dazzling brocade tightly in her hand, her knuckles turning white. She walked to the corner of the room, where a charcoal brazier burned brightly, the glowing embers radiating scorching heat. Without any hesitation, she tossed the brand-new, expensive cloak into the brazier with a fierce, decisive motion!
laugh--!
The moment the brocade touched the glowing embers, it immediately curled, turned black, and emitted wisps of smoke, before bursting into bright flames! The exquisite lotus scroll pattern twisted and charred rapidly under the licking of the flames, turning to ash. Thick smoke, carrying the acrid smell of burning fabric, filled the air, making one's throat itch. The flickering firelight illuminated Xin Jiuwei's cold and expressionless face; in her clear eyes, there was only a burning, icy flame.
“Filthy.” She stared at the flames engulfing the brocade and uttered a single word clearly, her voice soft but sharp as an icy blade. “Everything he used was filthy.”
Xin Kui watched the cloak quickly turn to ashes, then glanced at her mistress's resolute, almost cold profile, and was deeply shocked, yet she didn't utter a single word of advice. She simply placed the basin of hot water on the shelf silently, then quietly retreated a few steps to guard the door. The thorn in her mistress's heart was too deeply embedded; no one else could remove it. They could only wait for it to rot away on its own, or... be forcibly ripped out by an even stronger force.
The night, like thick ink, completely soaked into the sky above the capital.
The small courtyard was quiet, with only the intermittent chirping of autumn insects in the corner.
The flames in the charcoal brazier had died down, leaving only a pile of dark red embers and the lingering smell of burning. Xin Jiuwei bathed and changed into a plain cotton nightgown. With her slightly damp long hair loose, she sat in a round-backed chair by the window, holding a book in her hand, but she couldn't concentrate on reading a single word.
The scorching sensation of the brocade being consumed by flames still lingered on my fingertips, as did the almost masochistic pleasure of throwing it into the fire.
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