Shi Lingyi had returned as well.
She wore a pomegranate-red beizi jacket, with a pure-gold pearl-pendant hair ornament in her hair. She looked a little plumper than before her marriage, but there was an unmistakable weariness between her brows.
“Congratulations, little brother.” Shi Lingyi entered the Hall of Longevity with a polished smile, her voice as gentle as a spring breeze.
Shi Huai was tidying the writing desk. At the sound of her voice, he looked up and smiled. “Big Sister, you’re back? The journey must have been tiring.”
Shi Lingyi’s gaze lingered on his face for a moment. Her pupils contracted slightly, then quickly returned to normal.
She had discovered that this little brother of hers had grown even more handsome. Every time she saw him, he was more difficult to look away from than before.
His face was so fair it seemed to glow. The lines of his features had become more defined, giving him a sharp, striking beauty somewhere between that of a boy and a young man.
“It wasn’t tiring. I just missed all of you and came back to visit.” Shi Lingyi sat down in a chair and took a sip of the tea a maid brought her.
Her fingers rubbed lightly against the rim of the cup. The gesture appeared casual, but Shi Huai noticed that her knuckles had gone faintly white.
“Ding! Current attractiveness: 91. Facial symmetry increased to 95%. Skin smoothness increased to 94%. Hair luster increased to 62%. Eye-color intensity increased to 58%. Passive effect unlocked: Resonance of the Voice. The host’s voice produces a physiological attraction in others, causing them to listen involuntarily.”
Shi Huai lifted his teacup, took a sip, and cleared his throat.
“Big Sister, why didn’t Brother-in-law come back with you?”
His voice was slightly lower than before, carrying the clear, youthful quality unique to a teenage boy, like wine warmed in winter.
Shi Lingyi’s fingers jerked violently. Tea sloshed from the cup, splashing onto the table and spreading into a small brown stain.
“He… he’s busy. There’s a lot to do at the yamen, so he couldn’t get away.” Shi Lingyi’s smile stiffened for an instant before settling back into its gentle expression.
Shi Huai caught a glimpse of something she was desperately trying to suppress in her eyes.
It wasn’t sorrow or anger, but a far more complicated emotion.
There was hatred in it, and resentment, along with an almost maddened obsession.
He did not press her. He merely nodded and lowered his head to continue sorting through the papers on the desk.
Shi Lingyi sat there, watching the side of his face as he looked down. Her fingers clenched tightly inside her sleeves, her nails digging into her palms.
She remembered what had happened on the night of her wedding.
Red candles flickered in the room, which was filled with splendid furnishings. She had sat by the bed, waiting for Shen Zhixing to lift her veil.
She had waited for a full hour before Shen Zhixing finally pushed the door open, reeking of alcohol and the heavy fragrance of rouge and powder.
He did not lift her veil. Instead, he lunged at her, calling out not her name, but “Yunniang.”
Shi Lingyi understood at once. There was someone else in her husband’s heart—and not just one person.
The next morning, she learned how many concubines Shen Zhixing kept in his residence.
There was Yunniang, Concubine Lian, Concubine Liu, and two personal maids who served as bed companions.
They were as varied as fat flowers and slender swallows, a chorus of charming women crowding the small courtyard until there was hardly room to turn around.
Madam Shen had merely said offhandedly, “Men are all like this. You need to be more understanding.”
Shi Lingyi had smiled and agreed. But the moment she returned to her room, she smashed an entire tea set on the table.
She hated Shen Zhixing. She hated those concubines. She hated Madam Shen. She hated everyone.
But most of all, she hated Shi Huai.
It wasn’t because Shi Huai had done anything wrong. She simply needed someone to hate, someone who could make her believe that everything she had suffered had been caused by him.
If not for Shi Huai, she would never have rushed into marriage. She would never have married Shen Zhixing. She would never have ended up in her current state.
The logic was absurd, but to Shi Lingyi, it was enough to justify anything she might do.
The months she had spent in the Shen residence had not worn down her hatred. Instead, it had grown like wild grass, spreading unchecked.
She wanted Shi Huai dead. She wanted Shen Zhixing dead. She wanted everyone in the Shen household dead.
On the way back to the marquis’s residence, she had even wondered whether, if Shi Youlan also became “frail and ill,” Father would place all his hopes in her.
If she gave birth to a son, would she then be able to inherit everything in the marquis’s residence?
These thoughts coiled through her mind like venomous snakes, their scarlet tongues flicking.
“Big Sister, you don’t look well. Are you feeling unwell?” Shi Huai’s voice pulled her back from those feverish thoughts.
Shi Lingyi lifted her head and found Shi Huai standing before her, looking down at her with genuine concern in his eyes.
Those eyes were far too beautiful.
They were as black as ink, with a faint ring of gold around the edges. Under the light, tiny glimmers seemed to flow within them, like two finely polished pieces of obsidian.
Under that gaze, the hatred surging through Shi Lingyi suddenly stalled for a moment, like a rushing river crashing against a dam.
“Big Sister?” Shi Huai tilted his head and waved a hand in front of her.
Shi Lingyi came back to herself and forced a smile. “I’m fine. I’m just a little tired. I’ve been sitting in a carriage all day—my bones feel as if they’re about to fall apart.”
“Then you should go rest, Big Sister. Don’t force yourself to stay here.” There was an unmistakable firmness in Shi Huai’s concerned tone.
He turned to Qinghe and said, “Sister Qinghe, go have someone prepare Big Sister’s courtyard. Lay out some extra-thick bedding too. The weather’s getting cold.”
Qinghe acknowledged him and turned to leave.
Shi Lingyi rose and straightened her sleeves. Her gaze lingered on Shi Huai’s face for a moment before she suddenly asked, “Little Brother, what do you think of Second Sister?”
Shi Huai paused, unsure why she had suddenly asked. “Second Sister? She’s pretty nice. Lively and adorable, though she can be a little noisy sometimes.”
Shi Lingyi smiled, her expression carrying an indefinable meaning. “Yes, she is lively and adorable. More likable than I am, at least.”
Shi Huai detected something strange in her words, but he did not let it show. He merely smiled. “Big Sister is very likable too. Everyone in the residence praises you for being gentle and gracious.”
Shi Lingyi’s smile deepened, and she turned to walk out of the study.
Her footsteps were light. They made almost no sound against the bluestone path.
Shi Huai stood at the study’s entrance, watching her figure disappear beyond the moon gate. His brows drew together slightly.
This elder sister of his was even more dangerous than he had imagined.
Madam Liu’s malice was an open flame. It burned fiercely, but it could be seen and avoided.
Shi Lingyi’s malice was an underground current. The surface was calm, but beneath it lay a force capable of dragging someone into the abyss without even giving them a chance to struggle.
That evening, Shi Youlan returned as well.
She wore a goose-yellow jacket, with two little knots of hair tied atop her head. She bounded into the dining room, and her eyes lit up when she saw Shi Lingyi sitting at the table.
“Sister! You’re back!”
Shi Lingyi reached out and stroked Shi Youlan’s head, the gesture as gentle as that of a devoted elder sister.
“I’m back. I missed you, so I came home to visit.”
Shi Youlan wrapped her arms around Shi Lingyi’s waist and rubbed against her like a spoiled child. “Sister, I missed you so much! You weren’t here, and there was no one to talk to me.”
