After seeing off the group from the Marquis of Weiyuan's estate, the heavy red sandalwood doors of the Shen residence slowly closed, making a dull, soft sound, as if shutting out all the absurdity and embarrassment of the day.
Shen Zhongcheng did not return to the inner courtyard but walked into his study alone.
He dismissed his attendants.
Only he remained in the room.
The candles were unlit, and the twilight seeped in through the window, dyeing the shelves of books a deep, gloomy dark blue. He stood by the window, holding a scroll of the *Comprehensive Mirror of Officialdom*, but his gaze lingered on the century-old plum tree in the courtyard—its bare branches vigorous, silent as ink in the sinking twilight.
His daughter's words, like a twilight drum and a morning bell, struck a chill down his spine but also brought sudden enlightenment.
"This switched marriage, though a mistake, is not necessarily a bad thing for you, Father. You are currently in the limelight competing for the position of Minister of Personnel. With the marriage between the two families thwarted, the Emperor will actually feel more at ease!"
Yes.
How could he have forgotten?
The Minister of Personnel controlled the selection, evaluation, conferring of titles, and rewarding of all civil officials in the empire. How heavy was that authority? The Emperor had grown increasingly sensitive to factionalism in recent years. If he were to form a powerful alliance through marriage with another family at this moment, wouldn't that appear in the Emperor's eyes as blatant factionalism and greed for power?
Cold sweat soaked his inner garments.
"Foolish... truly foolish!"
Shen Zhongcheng muttered to himself, his fingertips unconsciously rubbing the edge of the scroll. The rough texture of the yellowed pages helped him settle his mind slightly.
He slowly turned and looked out the window.
The last gleam of sunset in the sky was being swallowed by the night, the churning clouds like splashed cinnabar, or perhaps... dried blood. Was the officialdom of Shengjing not just like this?
Glamorous on the surface, but with turbulent undercurrents beneath.
One wrong step.
And it would be eternal damnation!
"Huan'er..." he murmured, his eyes filled with complex, indiscernible emotions.
What a pity.
Truly a pity.
Such sharp political insight, such clear-headed observation, such ability to assess the situation and weigh the pros and cons—to think it was born in a daughter. If she were a son, given time, entering the cabinet and becoming prime minister would not be difficult.
In comparison, his legitimate son, Shen Mingxuan, who was out of town handling cases, diligent but lacking in brilliance, seemed mediocre.
Shen Zhongcheng let out a long breath of stale air, and the slight unwillingness and regret in his heart over the "marrying down" dissipated completely.
The switched marriage was a foregone conclusion, and the best possible outcome!
...
The Shen family ancestral hall was located in the deepest part of the estate.
The towering roof ridge left only a blurred outline in the darkness, like a dormant beast. The heavy cypress doors were tightly shut, the bronze beasts on the door rings gleaming coldly in the moonlight.
Inside the ancestral hall, the everlasting lamps burned faintly.
The bean-sized flames flickered in the draft, casting alternating light and shadow on the ancestral tablets. The smell of incense and candles mixed with the scent of old wood, permeating the solemn air.
Shen Ningyue knelt on the cold cushion.
It had been nearly three shichen (six hours).
Her knees had long gone from stinging to numb, and she was both hungry and thirsty—according to family law, she was to kneel here for a full day and night, without food or water, as punishment.
Yet her face showed not a trace of suffering; instead, it faintly revealed a flush of excitement.
Beside her, her birth mother, Concubine Fang, was also kneeling.
This woman, nearing forty, had a pale, haggard face and bloodshot eyes, but she still supported her frail body, looking at her daughter with deep concern.
"Yue'er..." Concubine Fang lowered her voice, hoarse from lack of water, "Do you truly... not regret this?"
"Regret what?" Shen Ningyue turned her head.
In the dim light, a smile actually curled the corners of her lips. The smile did not reach her eyes, instead making Concubine Fang's heart tighten.
"Mother, you don't understand." Shen Ningyue's voice was kept very low, but every word was clear. "The path your daughter is taking is the true road to heaven."
Concubine Fang was stunned.
The candlelight danced.
Reflecting her daughter's young, beautiful face.
Those features were indeed seventy percent similar to her own in her youth, but the expression at this moment was so unfamiliar. It was a mix of ambition, calculation, and some kind of... almost prophetic certainty.
"But in the end, it's still being a concubine." Concubine Fang's voice trembled, reaching out to touch her daughter's hand but stopping in mid-air. "The Marquis's estate has strict rules. Entering in this manner, how could the main wife, Madam Li, ever treat you well? Even though Shen Ninghuan married into the second branch, she is the primary wife. In the future, when you see her, you will have to bow to her..."
"So what if I bow?"
Shen Ningyue gave a soft snort, her gaze turning to the dark depths of the ancestral hall, where the tablets of the Shen family ancestors stood silently, as if wordlessly judging this unfilial descendant.
"It's only temporary." She withdrew her gaze, her eyes burning brightly. "Mother, believe me. Pei Ciling is no ordinary man—within ten years, he will surely achieve illustrious military merits, be appointed as a Great General, and be enfeoffed as the Duke of Wei."
"And all I have to do is firmly grasp the heir's heart and give birth to his eldest son. Being elevated to the primary wife is just around the corner." Shen Ningyue spoke word by word, as if stating a foregone conclusion. "By then, I will be the Duchess. What does the primary wife of a mere Marquis's second branch... amount to?"
Her voice was very light, but it pierced Concubine Fang's heart like an ice-tipped needle.
Concubine Fang looked at the almost fanatical light in her daughter's eyes, and a chill inexplicably crept up her spine. This child... since waking up from that high fever a month ago, seemed like a different person.
In her words and actions.
She always carried a kind of resentment and unwillingness, occasionally saying things that frightened her.
"Yue'er, how... how can you be so certain?" Concubine Fang asked tentatively, her fingers unconsciously twisting her clothes.
Shen Ningyue merely smiled and did not answer.
Of course she wouldn't say.
Say that she had lived a past life, witnessing with her own eyes how Pei Ciling ascended step by step to the pinnacle of power—fighting on the battlefield, accumulating military merits, enjoying increasing imperial favor, ultimately being enfeoffed as a Marquis and appointed as a General, wielding power over the court.
Say that in her past life, Shen Ninghuan was infinitely glorious. After marrying into the Marquis's estate, she not only managed the inner courtyard impeccably but also became the standout among the noble ladies of Shengjing with her reputation for talent and her shrewdness, envied by all.
Say that she herself—this inconspicuous concubine-born daughter—could only follow that worthless Pei Cijing, watching helplessly as others basked in glory.
Ultimately dying in obscurity and depression in the backyard of the Marquis's estate...
Reborn for a second chance.
How could she walk the old path again?
In this life, she was determined to snatch away everything that belonged to Shen Ninghuan—her marriage, her honor, and everything that was enviable in her past life!
"Mother, you only need to remember," Shen Ningyue grasped Concubine Fang's cold hand, her own palm unexpectedly hot, "The path your daughter has chosen will never be wrong. Just wait—when your daughter becomes the Duchess, I will grandly welcome you out of the Shen residence, so you will never again have to look at anyone's face or bow to anyone."
Concubine Fang's lips moved, but she ultimately said nothing more.
She looked at her daughter's young, beautiful, ambitious face, her heart filled with mixed emotions.
Being a concubine for twenty years, only she knew the bitterness, grievances, and walking on thin ice it entailed. She originally only hoped her daughter could marry into an ordinary family as a primary wife and live peacefully.
But the fire in her daughter's eyes burned too brightly, too scorchingly!
She couldn't put it out, nor could she stop it.
She could only silently pray and support her daughter's desperate gamble, hoping she could truly win the glorious future she spoke of—even though that future sounded so out of reach, so... terrifying.
...
Outside the ancestral hall, at the corner of the corridor.
Shen Ninghuan stood quietly beside a cluster of green bamboo. Her plain cyan dress almost blended into the shadows of the corridor. The night breeze swept past, rustling the bamboo leaves and masking the sound of her incredibly light breathing.
She had originally intended to go to the study to fetch a couple of chess manuals.
When passing by the ancestral hall.
She "accidentally" heard the inner thoughts coming from within.
Those "prophecies" about Pei Ciling's future achievements, the absolute determination to secure the position of the "Duchess", the ambition to steal everything she had in her past life...
Word by word, they poured out from Shen Ningyue's heart with absolute clarity.
Washing over like a tide.
And she "heard" every single bit of it.
Shen Ninghuan lowered her eyes slightly, her long eyelashes casting shallow shadows underneath, concealing the look in her eyes. Moonlight filtered through the gaps in the bamboo leaves, casting dappled shadows across her fair, unadorned face.
After a long while.
The corners of her lips curled into an extremely faint smile.
The smile was light, pale, and fleeting, yet there was no warmth in her eyes.
Having been reborn, did she really only learn how to climb into a man's bed, how to scheme against men, and how to fight over the petty confines of the inner courtyard?
Such limited vision, such a narrow mindset.
Sure enough—rebirth could not grant wisdom to a fool. It would only lead them further down the wrong path, making them more stubbornly deluded.
What a foolish younger sister!
Good luck to you!
Shen Ninghuan turned around gently, her skirt brushing against the bluestone floor without making the slightest sound.
