Chapter 8: Counterattack from Despair (2)

“Master?” Feng Tiande’s words seemed to have a deterrent effect. Only then did the Second Madam’s senses return. She had always maintained the image of a virtuous wife and loving mother in front of Feng Tiande, but this time, her true nature had been caught red-handed by him.

Her heart was filled with trepidation, yet she couldn't fathom how she, with her noble status, had ended up brawling with a group of lowly servants. “Get out. All of you, get out!” she said, overcome with shame and anger. Immediately, her face was plastered with a smile. “Master, why are you back so early? Weren’t you attending a banquet with the Minister of Revenue?”

“Hmph. If I hadn’t returned, wouldn’t this household have been turned upside down?” Feng Tiande let out a cold snort. “I’m asking you, what is the meaning of this?”

“This…” The Second Madam was momentarily speechless, not knowing how to respond.

“Father, you’re back? Please, quickly stop Second Mother; she wants to kill Xin’er,” Feng Qingcheng said, her eyes brimming with tears. This was exactly the effect she wanted.

“Feng Qingcheng, you bitch, how are you here?” Only then did Feng Qingqing notice Feng Qingcheng’s presence, shouting and screaming without noticing Feng Tiande’s livid expression.

“Father.” Feng Qingcheng called out timidly before fainting quite dramatically. Before she lost consciousness, her sharp gaze darted toward the outside. A white shadow flickered across the top of the wall like a passing cloud, vanishing in an instant.

The development of events was unexpected. For a moment, the Second Madam was stunned, and Feng Qingqing was equally dumbfounded. However, before they could dwell on it, red rashes began to break out all over everyone’s bodies, including Feng Qingcheng’s. The rashes mixed with the bloodstains, looking indescribably eerie.

With no time to attend to other matters, Feng Tiande ordered the servants to settle the Second Madam and have Feng Qingcheng and Feng Qingqing sent back to their respective chambers, then hurriedly sent people to fetch a physician.

He had just received an imperial decree stating that the Emperor would be hosting a grand banquet for his birthday next month, and all female relatives of officials were required to attend to show the vastness of imperial grace. Now that they were all in this state, how could he not be anxious? If they were disfigured because of this, where would he, a veteran official of the court, put his face?

The entire Feng residence became bustling with activity. Several groups of physicians arrived. The servants only had superficial wounds that could be treated with medicine, but the red rashes on the faces and bodies of the Second Madam, Feng Qingqing, and Feng Qingcheng were a mystery that even the physicians couldn't solve, no matter how hard they racked their brains. Even the most famous physicians in the capital were at their wits' end.

Those rashes were not like ordinary skin eruptions that could be resolved with the right medication. In the words of the physicians, these were rare and difficult ailments, the likes of which they had never seen or heard of before.

With their faces in such a state, the Second Madam and Feng Qingqing dared not go out all day, fearing they would be mocked. They had no mood to think about what had happened that day or why they had ended up like this. They wished they could hide their faces away rather than be pointed at and called ugly behind their backs.

Only Feng Qingcheng remained leisurely, hiding in her small courtyard, swinging on her swing and gnawing on her favorite chicken leg. Even with a face that looked too ghastly to behold, she didn't care in the slightest, because this was, after all, her own masterpiece.

“Miss, aren’t you worried?” Looking at Feng Qingcheng’s even more hideous face, Xin’er felt a pang of heartache. She didn’t understand why her mistress didn’t seem worried at all. Aren’t women supposed to cherish their appearance? Why was her mistress the exception?

“Worried about what?” Feng Qingcheng said indifferently. If the Second Madam and Feng Qingqing didn’t come to cause trouble, she was happy to be idle; what was there to worry about? Besides, she had more important things to do. Popping the last bite of chicken into her mouth, Feng Qingcheng wiped her hands and jumped off the swing.

“Xin’er, I’m going out for a while. Remember, no matter who comes, block them outside. If anyone asks, just say I’m resting in my room. If you can’t stop them, then you don’t need to stay by my side anymore.”

“But, Miss…” Xin’er opened her mouth to say something, but seeing Feng Qingcheng’s firm and sharp gaze, she said nothing more and just nodded heavily.

In these past few days, the change in her mistress’s temperament was something she had never expected, yet it was something she was happy to see. Her mistress had suffered so much over the years; now that she had changed and become so strong, how could she stop her? It was just that her mistress was originally a weak woman, and she hoped she wouldn't be bullied again.

Once ready, Feng Qingcheng examined herself in the mirror. With her skillful hands, the red mole on her face had been cleverly concealed. Dressed in a moon-white men’s robe, her black hair tied up with a jade hairpin, she looked every bit like a handsome young gentleman of the world.

As for the red rashes on her face, they were her own handiwork, so she naturally had plenty of ways to make them disappear. Thus, even if her Prime Minister father stood before her, he wouldn't recognize her as his daughter.

She slipped out of the Prime Minister’s residence silently and headed toward the busiest market in the capital. This was the first time Feng Qingcheng had set foot in the market during the day, yet she didn't feel like a stranger, for she had been here before. Her previous outings had been at night; she had gone out alone without alerting Xin’er to scout the situation, so she already knew everything she wanted to know.