The bluestone slabs of the Shuntian Prefecture Hall, polished to a shine by centuries of official boots, were now stained with the footprints of ordinary people. Outside the threshold, bamboo sticks from the candied haws stall sat askew in their straw baskets. The old man selling sugar paintings forgot to stir the copper spoons used to boil the candy, and all stood on tiptoe to peer into the courtroom. Two women knelt in the hall—the one in front, her hair disheveled, her brocade prison uniform stained with a scrap of straw. She was none other than Liu, the domineering woman at the General's Mansion just three days ago. The one behind, her hair undone like rags, her face gray from lead powder mixed with tears. She was none other than Shen Ruorou, the Second Miss Shen, once renowned as "the most talented woman in the capital."
"Silence!" The yamen runner's water and fire sticks hit the bluestone slab, splashing out fine stone powder.
Chen Weiwan stood behind a carved screen in the audience gallery, her fingertips pinching a newly purchased sugar-painted phoenix. The sugar threads shimmered amber in the sunlight, and as her tongue licked the phoenix's tail feathers, syrup clung to the corners of her lips. Seventh Prince Xiao Yu leaned against a vermilion pillar, his dark-colored robe brushing the hem of her moon-white skirt. He suddenly leaned over and whispered in her ear, "Look at your cousin's fallen horse bun; it looks like a bird's nest that a wild cat has plundered."
Before he finished speaking, Shen Ruorou happened to raise her hand to support the shaky pearl hairpin, causing her messy hair to fall, revealing a striking streak of white hair at her temples. Shen Weiwan bit off the phoenix head of the sugar painting and muttered incoherently, "Your Highness should see my aunt's nails. When she grabbed the yamen runner's collar just now, the blood marks left by the red polished nail polish are more vivid than this sugar painting of mine."
As he spoke, the prefect stepped into the courtroom in his crimson official boots. The jade belt buckle on his waist prickled his stomach, but he kept a straight face and slammed the gavel: "Bring the prisoners, Liu and Chen Ruorou!"
With a thud, Liu suddenly broke free from the guards' grip, took three steps on her knees, and slammed onto the blue bricks. The red gold hairpin on her bun tilted to one side, and the beads clattered to the ground. "Your Excellency, please understand! I am innocent! It was all that little bitch Shen Weiwan who framed me—she coveted the key to the General's Mansion's treasury, so she bribed the accountant to forge the bank account!"
"Falsifying the accounts?" the prefect sneered, raising his chin at the legal advisor. The yellowed account book lay spread out on the desk, the ink a stale brown in the candlelight. "Look, Liu! Ten years ago, you withdrew twenty jade ornaments, recording them as 'Old Madam's Reward'—yet when the Old Madam passed away, you hadn't even entered the Shen family yet! And then there's this three thousand taels of silver, recorded as 'a dowry for the eldest young lady,' when it actually went to your brother's 'Hongyun Gambling House' in West City!"
Liu's pupils shrank suddenly, and she turned her head sharply to point at Shen Weiwan behind the screen, her nails almost digging into the wooden fence: "It's her! She is the evil ghost that crawled back from the underworld! She..."
"How dare you!" The prefect's gavel slammed loudly, a few drops of red ink splashing from the cinnabar inkstone on the desk. "How can the laws of Dasheng tolerate your lies and misleading the people? Liu, you embezzled 27,000 taels of silver from the general's mansion, withheld 8,000 taels of frontier military pay, and even secretly met with the bandit leader of Black Wind Village and sent three letters—" He paused, his eyes sweeping over the breathless people below. "For these multiple crimes, I sentence you to exile 3,000 miles to the bitter cold of Mobei, never to return to the capital!"
"No!" Liu was struck by lightning, collapsing, knocking over the copper incense burner behind her. Three thousand miles of exile, the coarse rice in the post stations along the way would have grated her throat, the sandstorms of the northern desert would have ripped her skin apart. How could her delicate skin, nurtured for forty years in seclusion, withstand such torment?
At this moment, Shen Ruorou, who had been cowering behind Liu, suddenly screamed and lunged forward. As her sleeves fluttered, the gold-inlaid jade bracelet on her wrist struck the corner of the table, leaving a crack. "Sir! My mother was wronged! It was all Shen Weiwan who forced me to do this—she stole my gold bracelet and sewed itchy grass all over my skirt!"
"Chen Ruorou!" The prefect threw a stack of testimonies in front of her, the mulberry paper rustling. "You falsely accused my eldest sister of theft and bribed a servant girl to give false testimony. You deliberately spilled tea at the Spring Festival banquet and hid grass scraps in a spare dress to frame her. Worse still, you stuffed cotton into your abdomen to fake a pregnancy and deceived the emperor. According to the law, you should be executed!"
The word "behead" struck Shen Ruorou like thunder. She stumbled back, her embroidered shoes treading on her scattered hair. Suddenly, she raised her voice and screamed, "I am the Second Miss of the Shen Family! My father is the Second Master of the General's Mansion! You can't do this to me—!"
"Shut up!" The prefect's fingers stabbed the table, making a clanging sound. "You have repeatedly framed my eldest sister. Your heart is more vicious than that of a snake and scorpion! This prefecture considers that you are a woman, and also considers the old general's meritorious service in defending the border. I sentence you—" He dragged out his words, looking at Shen Ruorou's face, which turned pale in an instant, "to be sent to Jingxin Temple in the suburbs of Beijing. You must worship Buddha for the rest of your life and you are not allowed to step out of the mountain gate without permission!"
"Jingxin Nunnery?" Shen Ruoruo's scream was harsher than a cat's claws scraping against glass. "I'm not going to that damn place! Last year, when I went to pay homage, I saw the nuns eating rotten millet porridge! I want to go home! I'm Shen Ruoruo—the noble lady who will marry into the Marquis's mansion in the future!"
She rushed to grab the prefect's official boots, but the yamen runners tied her arms behind her back. Shen Weiwan looked at the last pearl hairpin in her bun, which was teetering on the verge of falling, and suddenly raised her voice, "Don't worry, cousin, there's plenty of cabbage at Jingxin Temple—I just had someone send twenty pounds of cabbage seeds the other day. You must cultivate it yourself to atone for the sins you committed in your past life!"
Shen Ruorou turned around abruptly, meeting Shen Weiwan's half-smile in her eyes. Those eyes looked exactly like her own, smirking behind the screen three years ago when she'd tricked Shen Weiwan into marrying the cripple. Now, the tide had turned, and she was going to eat boiled cabbage, spending her youth in front of the ancient Buddha and the green lamp!
"Chen Weiwan—! I'll kill you—!" Shen Ruoruo twisted like crazy, her hairpin falling to the ground, revealing the newly formed white hair at her temples. The yamen runners impatiently wrapped the chain around her wrists, dragging her skirt up as they did so, revealing her patched, moon-white panties underneath.
"Wow! Look at Miss Shen's underwear, it's covered in patches!"
"I heard the cotton she stuffed in her belly during her fake pregnancy was fluffier than the ones sold in silk shops!"
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