The rain pattered against the window lattice as the night wind howled, perhaps because of this, Yun Wan slept restlessly and woke at the first light of dawn.
After the autumn rain, the morning air was piercingly cold, and a thick white mist veiled the surroundings. Fortunately, the dark clouds had dispersed, and it seemed there would be no more rain today.
After Yue Ya finished helping her wash and dress, she asked, "Mistress, only your dressing table and jewelry box remain unpacked. Should I put them away now?"
Pausing the wooden comb in her hand, Yun Wan replied softly, "No need to rush. You can do it later. I’m hungry now—go fetch some food for me."
Yue Ya responded promptly, "Of course! The tea room has prepared pastries. I’ll bring them to you right away."
Once Yue Ya was out of sight, Yun Wan set down the comb and reached into the innermost side of her dressing table, feeling around until her fingers brushed against a slight protrusion. She pressed down.
With a soft click, a hidden compartment slid open from the seemingly flawless side of the dressing table.
The compartment was small, containing only a few scattered notes and, most strikingly, a solitary ring resting inside.
A purple jade thumb ring, intricately carved with coiling dragons.
Though hidden away for years, the ring’s noble luster remained undiminished, its craftsmanship exuding an air of grandeur.
Yun Wan picked it up, cradling it in her palm. The smooth yet cool touch sent a shiver through her, and she sighed faintly.
After regaining her senses that day, she had hurriedly left the bamboo pavilion. It wasn’t until she returned home and undressed for a bath that she noticed something amiss.
An unfamiliar object had been caught in the folds of her undergarments, and as she loosened the ties, it fell into the bathtub with a soft splash.
When Yun Wan fished it out from the water, she was stunned.
The thumb ring that should have adorned the Emperor’s hand had somehow ended up with her!
Shocked but quick to regain composure, she immediately hid the extraordinary ring in the secret compartment of her dressing table, daring not to breathe a word to anyone.
The dressing table had been part of her mother Lady Cen’s dowry when she married into the Yun family. As a child, Yun Wan had often watched her mother sit before the mirror, grooming herself, and had even seen her open the hidden compartment.
Once, during her younger years when she was losing her baby teeth, Lady Cen forbade her from indulging in too many sweets. Defiant, little Yun Wan had secretly stashed treats inside this very compartment, sneaking bites when no one was looking.
She thought she’d gotten away with it—until the day she opened the compartment to find all her hidden snacks gone. Her world had crumbled.
Only later did she learn that her mother had known all along, turning a blind eye until the very end before confiscating everything.
Recalling these rare moments of warmth with her mother, Yun Wan’s expression softened, a gentle smile gracing her lips.
She wrapped the ring in a handkerchief and tucked it into her sleeve.
......
Knowing that Yun Wan was to return to the palace that day, the Lu family prepared a lavish banquet in the main hall, inviting her to join.
The reason was simple: regardless of her past ties to the Lu family, from now on, she would only be known as Consort Yun of the imperial palace.
Those who thrived in noble households were no fools. Even if they hadn’t been close to Yun Wan before, they had no desire to worsen relations now. Any opportunity to mend fences was worth taking.
With the elderly matriarch bedridden, the banquet was overseen by Second Aunt Lu, the widow of the late master’s younger brother. She invited all the women of the household to join in the festivities.
Throughout the meal, everyone tactfully avoided mentioning the matriarch or Lu Fenglan, as though the two had never existed. Thus, the gathering remained harmonious, free of discord.
After leaving the main hall, Yun Wan wandered aimlessly through the estate, her brow slightly furrowed with worry.
Fuling assumed she was feeling sentimental, gazing upon the familiar scenery now that she would never return. Her heart ached for her mistress.
In truth, Yun Wan was preoccupied with how to discreetly dispose of the ring in her sleeve—once and for all.
She had returned to the Lu residence precisely for this purpose, yet the right moment and place had eluded her.
The journey back to the palace would be crowded with prying eyes, leaving her no chance to discard it unnoticed.
If she waited any longer, she’d have no choice but to take it into the palace with her.
Far too dangerous.
As she strolled along the pebbled path, Yun Wan noticed a servant in coarse hemp clothes unloading goods in the distance. Recognizing the cargo, she paused.
"Is that horse feed?" she asked, stepping closer.
The servant, trembling at the sight of the former Third Madam—now Consort Yun—bowed deeply. "Yes, Your Grace. This is bean fodder for the horses. I was just about to take it to the stables."
For horses to thrive, they needed more than just hay—beans were essential.
Realizing she had wandered near the stables of the Lu estate, Yun Wan’s eyes flickered with an idea.
Casually, she inquired, "Is the horse that Sui used to feed still here? I’d like to see it."
The servant nodded eagerly. "Yes, yes! But the stables are filthy—I wouldn’t want to soil Your Grace’s robes..."
Yun Wan waved a hand dismissively. "It’s no trouble."
Standing outside the fence, she saw the once-small black foal that Sui had often fed. Now grown into a tall, robust steed, its jet-black mane gleamed, its eyes large and alert, lashes curled, limbs powerful—a majestic general among horses.
Noticing Yun Wan’s gaze, the horse lifted its head and snorted, chewing lazily on its hay.
"This horse has grown well," she remarked with a faint smile.
The stable hand grinned proudly. "Your Grace may not know, but the Duke learned that the young master favored this horse, so he ordered us to feed it the finest fodder. Good food makes for a strong steed!"
Yun Wan hummed in acknowledgment. "Do these horses stay here all the time?"
The stable hand shook his head. "Of course not. When there’s time, I take them outside the city walls every few days. It keeps them healthy—cooped up here all day, they’d grow restless."
"If the weather holds tomorrow, I’ll be taking these horses out for a stroll."
Yun Wan praised, "You’ve done well."
Glancing at the horses, she added gently, "Go on with your work. I’ll just look around for a moment before heading back."
The stable hand bowed and left, carrying a wooden bucket.
Once he was gone, Yun Wan pointed to a pile of fresh green fodder beneath the eaves and said to Fuling, "Fuling, fetch some of that to feed them."
Fuling nodded and turned away.
Seizing the moment, Yun Wan swiftly drew the ring from her sleeve and tossed it into the pile of hay.
As the ring vanished into the feed, her heart finally settled.
She had considered the possibilities: the ring would either be swallowed by a horse and later expelled outside the city walls, or it would be trampled into the dirt, crushed beyond recognition.
Either outcome suited her just fine.
With this burden lifted, she left the stables feeling lighter.
But halfway back, she encountered Lu Yuanduo, who had just returned from outside, dust still clinging to his robes.
