Chapter 5: Precious Pearl

It was early spring. In a corner of the Luoying Courtyard, a red plum blossom bloomed silently, sending faint whiffs of fragrance on the breeze.

Wen Hao swept her gaze slowly across the courtyard, which felt both familiar and strange, a bitter ache rising in her heart.

Her elder sister’s given name was Chan, and she lived in the Jiaoyue Courtyard, named after the line, "May we live long and share the beauty of the moon together, even if we are thousands of miles apart." Her own given name was Hao, and she lived in the Luoying Courtyard, named after the phrase, "Flowers blooming and the moon full."

Their mother had always believed this was the life she and their father shared, never knowing it was a beautiful dream that had lasted twenty years.

Once the dream ended, it would be an abyss.

"Second Sister, what did you want to tell me?" Once inside the room, Wen Chan sat down casually. She took the tea offered by a maid, handed it to Wen Hao first, and then picked up a cup for herself.

For many years, her younger sister’s congenital defect had made the elder sister feel compelled to take extra care of her, which was why Wen Hao trusted Wen Chan so deeply.

"Baozhu, go outside and guard the door."

The maid who had served the tea had already withdrawn. There was only one round-faced maid left in the room, who bowed and silently exited upon hearing the command.

Everyone in the Wen household knew that the Second Young Lady only allowed the maid Baozhu to serve her; other maids and matrons were not permitted to approach her easily.

The servants of the Wen household whispered privately that the Second Young Lady was born a mute, which was why she was so eccentric. They just couldn't understand how a dim-witted girl like Baozhu had managed to catch the Second Young Lady’s eye.

Seeing her sister send even Baozhu away, Wen Chan grew increasingly curious.

"Big Sister—" Wen Hao tightened her grip on the teacup, weighing her words.

A hand reached out and patted her wrist gently.

"If you have something to say, just say it, Second Sister. Why be so formal with your own sister?"

Wen Hao set down the teacup, stared fixedly at Wen Chan, and two lines of clear tears fell.

Wen Chan was startled. "Second Sister, what is the matter?"

"Big Sister, Father is keeping a mistress."

The sound of a teacup shattering on the floor echoed through the room. Wen Chan looked at her in disbelief. "Second Sister, are you feverish and talking nonsense?"

Wen Hao avoided the hand Wen Chan reached out to touch her forehead with, her tears falling like broken beads. "I wish I were just feverish and talking nonsense. Father hasn't just kept a mistress; he has a son and a daughter. The son is named Chang Hui, and the daughter is named Chang Qing. They both took their mother’s surname..."

Having endured those hardships, she had long since grown tired of crying, but there were times when she still needed to.

These words made Wen Chan’s head buzz. But hearing her sister name the mistress’s children, even though she couldn't imagine their father doing such a thing, she couldn't help but believe it a little.

"Second Sister, how... how did you find out?" Wen Chan’s heart was in turmoil, unsure whether she should believe it.

"I bumped into them by chance while out on the street. I didn't dare believe it at first, so I followed them secretly for a few days. I could no longer deceive myself." Wen Hao wiped away her tears, a mocking curve on her lips. "Do you know, Big Sister? Chang Hui is even older than you."

Wen Chan’s expression shifted, her face turning increasingly ghastly.

Older than her—the moment she realized what that meant, her blood boiled.

"Second Sister, could it be that you—"

Wen Hao lowered her eyes, cutting off Wen Chan’s words. "Big Sister, don't ask if I misunderstood. Though I couldn't speak before, my eyes were fine, my ears were fine, and my mind was fine."

Wen Chan braced her hands on the table, unable to regain her composure. After a long while, she asked in a hoarse voice, "Where... do they live?"

"Ruyi Lane, Mahua Alley." Wen Hao gave the address without hesitation.

With names and an address, Wen Chan believed her even more. She muttered, "That place is right on the path Father takes to and from his office..."

Wen Hao took her hand. "Big Sister, go and see for yourself, but don't alert them. Only once it is confirmed can we work together to resolve Mother’s crisis."

Wen Chan nodded.

At this moment, she couldn't bring herself to say the polite words of complete trust in her sister.

Wen Chan had no heart to stay longer and left in a hurry.

The tea on the table had gone cold, and the cup on the floor was shattered into pieces, tea spilling everywhere.

Wen Hao leaned against the headboard and sat quietly for a moment before calling out, "Baozhu."

The round-faced maid hurried in. She glanced at the broken porcelain on the floor but didn't take it upon herself to clean it up immediately. Her dark eyes were full of joy. "Does the Young Lady have any instructions?"

Wen Hao smiled, her lips curving. "Baozhu looks very happy."

Baozhu grinned. "The Young Lady’s voice is truly beautiful."

"Is it?" Wen Hao reached out and gently pinched Baozhu’s plump cheek. "I think so, too."

In this world, the only person who never discounted a word she said was Baozhu.

Baozhu had originally been a kitchen maid at the General’s Manor. When she was young, her personal maids had been replaced one after another, but Baozhu was the only one she had personally chosen and kept by her side.

The servants of the Wen household were most puzzled as to why the Second Young Lady had chosen a kitchen maid from her maternal grandfather’s house to serve her closely, even bestowing the name "Baozhu" upon her.

But to Wen Hao, this maid she had personally selected was a treasure in every sense of the word.

No one knew that the mute Second Young Lady had a peculiar trait: she could occasionally sense the thoughts of people who were not blood-related to her.

Serving a master who could not speak, even if a maid had no malicious intent, it was inevitable that they would have private complaints.

Wen Hao was young then, and once she sensed those things, she didn't want those maids near her anymore, until she discovered Baozhu.

She had only ever heard one thought from Baozhu’s heart: *The Young Lady is truly beautiful.*

Who wouldn't love a Baozhu like that?

Wait—Wen Hao realized something belatedly.

From the moment she fell off the wall until now, she hadn't heard those messy, chaotic voices again.

From the Prince Jing’s Manor to the General’s Manor and then to the Wen household, she had met so many people; it made no sense that she hadn't heard a single thing.

Why?

Was it a coincidence, or—her slender fingers touched her slightly cool lips, and a jolt went through Wen Hao’s heart.

Was it because she could speak now?

Or perhaps, in her past life, it was precisely because of this strange ability that she had been unable to speak.

Wen Hao bit her lip and couldn't help but smile.

If this was the price for being able to speak, then it was truly wonderful.

To her, this wasn't a price to pay, but a liberation.

"Baozhu, bring me pen and ink. I will write a list, and you will go out to purchase these things tomorrow."

The day grew late. Wen Hao changed her clothes and leaned against the headboard, calculating the things she needed to do.

In truth, there was no need to overthink it; it was simply a matter of repaying grievances with grievances and kindness with kindness.

She would seek justice from those who had harmed her and her loved ones, one by one. And for those who had helped her, she would do her best to repay them.

A pair of handsome eyes appeared in Wen Hao’s mind.

The wind had been strong, the snow very cold. He had shielded her beneath his body, yet she had felt that embrace was very warm.

It was their blood mingling together, giving her, who had died full of hatred, a final bit of warmth.

Now, thinking back carefully, that person had already been injured before he shielded her from the flying blade; it was very likely that he, like her, had been in a crisis at the time.

That person had used his own flesh and blood to block the blade for her. Although she had died anyway, she had to acknowledge the debt. It was a pity she hadn't seen the man’s face; she could only find out his identity slowly.

The exhaustion brought on by her rebirth caused Wen Hao to drift into a deep sleep without realizing it.

Early the next morning, Wen Chan quietly left the manor, and Baozhu also went out.

Over at Prince Jing’s Manor, the Princess Consort had just finished breakfast when a maid reported that the Heir Apparent had arrived.

(End of chapter)