Chapter 81: The Road Ahead

After the lively palace banquet, the Empress Dowager suggested visiting the lotus pond by the Jade Bright Hall. The imperial pond, crafted by artisans to mimic the Yongning River of Yanjing, was vast and expansive. In summer, a stretch of lotus blooms ten miles long painted the scene green, with the bright moon overhead and stars scattered like jewels—a sight so beautiful it swept away the lingering heat and refreshed the spirit.

It had long been the custom for the nobility to enjoy flowers after a feast. Jiang Li followed her family to the pond, with Ji Shuran and Jiang Youyao closely shadowing her every step. Jiang Li knew well this was not Ji Shuran’s display of affection for her stepdaughter; she simply didn’t care for such pretense.

Along the waterside gallery, the ladies and young misses seated themselves. Sliced fruits and dainty pastries adorned the tables. As Jiang Li walked toward the far end, she suddenly felt an object pressed into her palm. She turned to see a strange palace maid brush past her.

Clutching the object, she realized it was a slip of paper. She glanced at Ji Shuran and Jiang Youyao, suspecting their involvement, but Ji Shuran’s demeanor remained unchanged, as if unaware of anything amiss.

When they reached the pavilion at the lake’s heart, Jiang Li deliberately lagged behind. Once she was alone, she opened her hand by the dim lantern light and saw a line of neat characters: “Meet at the Eastern Rear Garden, Yuxiu Pavilion.” Signed: Zhou Yanbang.

Jiang Li froze. Ji Shuran had begun calling her, so she quickly crumpled the note. She intended to toss it into the lake but reconsidered and slipped it back into her sleeve.

As she approached, Ji Shuran smiled, “Li’er, you walk so slowly.”

Jiang Li responded with a gentle smile, though the note from Zhou Yanbang filled her with a cold amusement. Clearly, Zhou Yanbang was not orchestrated by Ji Shuran—knowing how highly Jiang Youyao valued him, Ji Shuran would never risk entangling him in any scheme. It must be Zhou Yanbang’s own idea.

Never had Jiang Li expected Zhou Yanbang to step into this mess. What confidence did the Marquis of Ningyuan’s heir possess to think a mere note could summon her? Did he believe the Second Miss of Jiang House still harbored feelings for him? Yet, Jiang Li recalled every interaction since her return to Yanjing—none had betrayed the slightest interest in him.

Some people are so self-deluded that no matter how coldly they are met, they find proof of affection hidden in every gesture.

Jiang Li mused to herself. She and Ye Shijie would never become what Ji Shuran wished, but even that seemed too mild a retribution for Ji Shuran.

Since coming to the Jiang family, Jiang Li had regarded everyone as an outsider. She sympathized with the real Second Miss, but until her own family’s wrongs were redressed, she wished to avoid entanglements and unforeseen trouble.

Thus, she returned offense for offense—Ji Shuran’s malice met with her own counterblows. She thought herself fair. But this time, Ji Shuran had truly angered her; her schemes were so base, they reminded Jiang Li of her former self, of old wounds and fresh resentments intertwined—she was eager for revenge.

It is said true vengeance lies in tearing away what one holds most dear. For Ji Shuran, that was Jiang Youyao and Jiang Bingji. But Bingji was too young, with nothing to lose. Youyao, however, was different.

Jiang Youyao’s greatest obsession was now the Marquis of Ningyuan’s heir, Zhou Yanbang. Ji Shuran and her daughter had snatched this engagement from the Second Miss and lived in constant fear of its reversal. Youyao even hated Jiang Li for Zhou Yanbang’s sake—he was her softest spot.

Jiang Li’s fingers caressed the note in her sleeve, and she smiled.

Since Zhou Yanbang insisted on wading into murky waters, he could hardly blame her for muddying them further. Jiang Youyao, always on guard against Jiang Li, did not realize that Zhou Yanbang was Yanjing’s most eligible bachelor, coveted by many. Take, for instance, her former sister-in-law Shen Ruyun, or Jiang Yuer, the daughter from the Jiang family’s third branch.

If Jiang Yuer were given a chance to marry into the Marquis’s household, what would she choose? On one side, the sisters she called friendly, on the other, a match that might never come again. Jiang Li was curious to see.

Ji Shuran glanced at Jiang Li from time to time as the minutes slipped away. Jiang Li pressed a hand to her brow and murmured, “Mother, I feel a bit dizzy…”

So soon? Ji Shuran was surprised; she thought the drug would take longer to work. Yet with Jiang Li’s complaint, she had to respond, fearing that lingering would arouse suspicion. She discreetly signaled a maid. “Help Second Miss back to her room for a good rest. I’ll fetch her later.”

Jiang Youyao asked tentatively, “Second Sister?”

Jiang Li frowned slightly and waved her hand, but accidentally knocked over a cup, spilling tea onto Jiang Yuer’s skirt.

Jiang Yuer exclaimed and stood up.

Jiang Li widened her eyes, seeming to regain some clarity. “Sorry, Fifth Sister, I didn’t mean to soil your dress.” Looking at the stain, she added apologetically, “What shall we do? Why not come change with me, and I can rest at the same time?”

“No need…” Ji Shuran began to object.

“Mother, it’s a palace banquet. It wouldn’t be proper for Fifth Sister to remain in soiled clothes. The palace has emergency attire, and if not, Consort Li should have some. It’s best Fifth Sister changes.”

Jiang Yuer was upset—this was her first time wearing such fine clothes, chosen by the old matron herself. Now they were ruined. But mention of Consort Li made her pause. If she could wear palace silks, they might be even finer than what the old matron provided. She stood and smiled. “Aunt, it’s all right. I’ll go with Second Sister. She’s right—dirty clothes might make others think our Jiang family disrespects His Majesty. I can look after her on the way.”

Ji Shuran’s palm sweated. Jiang Yuer had no idea of her plans. Ji Shuran did not want her meddling, but let it pass—she could have someone divert Yuer halfway, and Jiang Li would still end up as planned. Besides, Jiang Li’s quick reaction to the drug meant there would be plenty of time to arrange everything.

She signaled the palace maid, “Very well, off you go.”

Madam Yang said nothing. Though Yuer was her daughter, the girl fawned more on Ji Shuran than on her own mother. Yang was used to it.

Jiang Yuer and Jiang Li followed the unfamiliar palace maid away.

Near the pavilion, on the edge of the gallery, many tea rooms stood empty, reserved for noble guests needing rest or a change of clothes. Quiet and rarely used.

As they walked, perhaps due to too much wine, Jiang Yuer began to feel dizzy. Jiang Li chatted idly about Jiang Youyao’s engagement.

“Mother mentioned again today how happy Third Sister is with her betrothal to Zhou. Lady Ningyuan seems very satisfied too.”

“Indeed, Third Sister is fortunate. Zhou is one of the finest young men in Yanjing. But fate wasn’t on my side, so I’ll have to look elsewhere.”

“Fifth Sister, you’re nearly of age too. I heard the servants say Third Uncle is asking Father about prospects for you—who knows what household you’ll enter?”

Jiang Li’s sudden interest in her marriage made Yuer suspect she was being spiteful. Last time, when the engagement was set, Yuer was told Jiang Li must be heartbroken. Now, she seemed to twist the knife, bringing up Yuer’s uncertain prospects.

Yuer responded, “Second Sister cares a lot for my marriage, but I’m still younger than you. And as you said, my father isn’t as influential as Uncle—the matches he finds won’t compare to yours or Third Sister’s.” There was a trace of bitterness in her voice, emboldened perhaps by wine.

Jiang Li looked at her, a hint of pity in her gaze. “Why can’t one choose their birth? Fifth Sister, you’re as beautiful and accomplished as Third Sister; only your birth holds you back. If you were the eldest branch’s daughter, you and Zhou would be well matched.”

That stung. Yuer recalled all the injustices she and Youyao suffered in the Jiang family and was silent, her heart sour.

Jiang Li continued, “What a pity. With your looks and talent, Fifth Sister, you’ll probably end up with an unknown man. Compared to Zhou, even ordinary officials’ sons may not measure up. In fact, being Zhou’s concubine might be better than a commoner’s wife. Alas,” she broke off, shaking her head, “comparison is the thief of joy. Such is fate.”

Yuer was more upset than ever—being outshone was her greatest hatred. In the Jiang family, it seemed anyone could step on her. She bit back, “That’s my fate, not as good as Third Sister’s. But you’re broad-minded, Second Sister. Zhou was supposed to be your husband, but now he’s your brother-in-law, and you seem unbothered. No wonder they say time in a convent brings serenity.”

She thought Jiang Li’s calm must be affected. In her place, she would be seething. Yet, Jiang Li always remained unruffled, immune to sharp words.

As expected, Jiang Li merely smiled and said, “Whether I accept it or not, it’s done. Besides, I’ll have other chances, even if not as fine as Zhou. But as for you…” She glanced at Yuer, meaningfully leaving the sentence unfinished.

Yuer understood—her prospects would never surpass Jiang Li’s.

Anger and resentment welled up, making her feel hot and dizzy, unable to find a retort.

All the while, Jiang Li kept a sidelong eye on the palace maid, who remained indifferent to their conversation, making Jiang Li all the more wary.

After a while, another palace maid approached and said to Yuer, “Consort Li has asked me to help Fifth Miss choose a dress. Second Miss can rest in the front room—once Fifth Miss is done, I’ll bring her back.”

Jiang Li smiled coldly—Ji Shuran’s people were eager to separate Yuer from her. Playing along, she pressed her brow and said, “Go ahead, Fifth Sister. My headache is awful; I’ll wait for you inside.”

Yuer, still smarting from Jiang Li’s words, agreed. The prospect of wearing Consort Li’s clothes cheered her, and she followed the new maid away. As Jiang Li turned with her guide, a slip of paper fell from her sleeve.

Yuer, being close, instinctively bent to pick it up—a note, which she read by lantern light.

Her breath caught.

It was an invitation from Zhou Yanbang to meet Jiang Li privately—tonight, it seemed. Yuer’s first impulse was to bring it to Ji Shuran and expose Jiang Li’s scandal. The very idea cleared her head.

She hid the note in her sleeve and watched Jiang Li and the maid disappear around the gallery’s bend. Only then did she turn to the maid waiting to take her for a dress fitting. “My Second Sister is so careless, losing her things without noticing. I’ll have to find a way to return it to her later. Let’s go.”

She followed the new maid in the opposite direction.

Meanwhile, Jiang Li, led to the tea room by the first palace maid, gave a subtle smile.

When she dropped the note and heard no outcry behind her, she knew Yuer had taken the bait.

In such a setting, Yuer could not have missed the note. That she said nothing meant she had seen the writing.

Yuer would likely run to Ji Shuran, but even if she did, it proved nothing—Jiang Li would not go to the rendezvous. But if Yuer had listened to Jiang Li’s words along the way, she might make a different choice.

With Yuer’s ambitious and competitive nature, blinded by immediate gain, she was susceptible to temptation. Jiang Li’s remark about being a concubine to Zhou being better than a wife to some nobody would not appeal to a proud woman—unless that woman was Yuer.

All that remained was to settle matters here.

Jiang Li followed the palace maid around another corner to a tea room at the gallery’s end. The maid smiled, “Please rest inside, Second Miss. There are refreshments. I’ll fetch some ice to cool the room.”

“Go ahead,” Jiang Li said.

Once alone, Jiang Li quietly stood and walked over to the incense burner. With a flick of her lips, she snapped the stick in two.

Having been through this once before, she felt a strange calm. Her fingers found the small curved blade in her sleeve—a gift from Jiang Jingrui when she left for Mingyi Hall. No one would expect the daughter of Jiang Yuanbai to carry such a weapon into the palace; if discovered, she would have no way to explain herself.

She was not anxious, settling by the table in a pose of repose, one hand to her cheek, the other tapping the tabletop. The lamp’s wick fluttered, scattering sparks.

Outside, the palace maid would not leave until Ye Shijie arrived. She wondered how muddled he would be; if he was too far gone, she would not hesitate to use the blade to bring him to his senses.

She waited as the lamp oil burned low. At last, voices sounded outside, and the door creaked open.

Jiang Li maintained her feigned nap.

“Master Ye, please rest here. I will fetch more tea and snacks,” a woman’s voice said.

The door closed softly. Unsteady footsteps approached.

Jiang Li tensed as the stench of wine filled the air, and someone began to jostle her.

In that moment, memories of her past life swept over her. Although Xue Fangfei had remembered nothing after being drugged, the shame and suspicion that followed haunted her for years. Though it was later revealed to be a plot, she could never forgive her helplessness.

Jiang Li suddenly drew her curved blade, pressing it to the intruder with icy restraint and suppressed violence. “Ye Shijie,” she said coolly.

The man’s breathing steadied.

She opened her eyes to see her blade at Ye Shijie’s throat. His face was flushed, reeking of wine, but his eyes were clear and startled.

Jiang Li frowned slightly.

Ye Shijie was not drunk; he was perfectly sober.

…

Meanwhile, Jiang Yuer was led to another room to change. She was impatient to show Ji Shuran the incriminating note, unable to wait for the dress to arrive. Restless, she reread the slip she had picked up from Jiang Li.

She thought, Jiang Li claimed indifference to Zhou Yanbang, but secretly maintained a connection. Both daughters of Jiang Yuanbai—if this came to light, both sides would be in trouble. Would Zhou Yanbang marry Jiang Youyao after all? She was, after all, his fiancée.

The alliance would remain with the main Jiang branch.

Yet Jiang Li’s earlier words echoed in her mind.

“Fifth Sister, with your looks and talent, you’ll only end up with some unknown man. Being Zhou’s concubine might be better than being a commoner’s wife.”

She thought bitterly, why had Zhou Yanbang not chosen her? Was her birth so inferior she was unworthy even of his notice?

The thought of Jiang Li and Jiang Youyao vying for the Marquis’s heir, while she faced a future with an unknown husband, left her listless and uninterested even in Jiang Li’s disgrace.

Her forehead throbbed and her heart grew warm. Suddenly, a bold idea came to her.

What if she met Zhou Yanbang in Jiang Li’s stead?

What if, using Jiang Li’s name and this note, she could be with Zhou Yanbang—would he pity her, feel affection, and find a way to take her into the Marquis’s household?

She had no illusions of becoming his wife, but to be a favored concubine was no small thing. Jiang Li was right: being a concubine to Zhou beat being a wife to a nobody. He was Yanjing’s most admired young man, with wealth, status, and peerless looks. To marry him would be no loss.

The more she thought, the more possible it seemed. She clenched the note in her palm.

Her mind made up.

At that moment, the palace maid returned with the dress. Eager to change and meet Zhou Yanbang, Yuer’s impatience made the maid suspicious. Yuer made an excuse, “I need to visit the lavatory after changing. You needn’t wait—just point the way.”

The maid, a mere messenger for Ji Shuran, saw no harm and directed her, “Straight ahead, turn right at the end.”

Yuer changed, left the room, and walked as directed, but at the end she turned and, seeing no one about, slipped away toward the rendezvous.

It was the Yuxiu Pavilion by the eastern gate, exactly as the note said.

She hurried, breaking into a run. The cool night air did nothing to douse the heat within her; her heart pounded hotter with every step.

She had already planned what to say—her affection, her suffering in the Jiang household, and perhaps a tear or two. Men, even upright ones, took pride in a beauty’s devotion and could not bear to reject a maiden’s love. Men liked the fragile; her tearful face would surely soften Zhou Yanbang’s heart.

If only she could win his favor, she could escape a future of mediocrity.

Jiang Li’s mocking words stung anew, fueling the fire in Yuer’s heart.

What of the main branch? Only one of Jiang Li or Jiang Youyao could marry Zhou Yanbang; the other would lose. If Yuer could enter the Marquis’s household, at least one legitimate daughter would be bested by her. To be a concubine, even at the mercy of the principal wife, was no matter. Jiang Li was only superficially aloof; both she and Youyao, spoiled by Ji Shuran, knew nothing of pleasing men.

But Yuer believed she could win Zhou Yanbang’s heart.

Lost in such fantasies, she reached the pavilion.

The waterside structure was pitch dark, not a lamp lit—obviously seldom used. Zhou Yanbang had chosen well—or perhaps had always intended this place for his tryst with Jiang Li.

Yuer smiled to herself and stepped inside.

She paused before the door, heart racing. Crossing this threshold, she could transform her future, seize a fortune of her own making.

She opened the door and stepped through.