For common folk, the fire at the Zhao family workshop on Jinye Street merely burned down one weaving room. For those in the know, that night, Sheng Fengze, who had lost his prince title less than a day before, regained his noble status as His Highness the White Prince. His favor now exceeded that of Minister of Personnel Du Yan.

The military, due to Yang Jingyuan’s intrusion, once again tensed their recently relaxed nerves.

Chi Kuang’s army would lead troops to strengthen surveillance at all routes between Nanzhao and the Great Tang.

The Zhao family, at the center of events, was in chaos.

Sheng Fengze’s kick could kill a bull. Zhao Xiuyuan felt his heart and lungs had been shattered, melting into blood. Having offended His Highness the White Prince who had regained honor, Du Yan had already backed down, falling into honest silence. No Nanzhao official would spare a glance for this Great Tang silk craftsman who should have been a slave.

The official reading the sovereign’s decree “politely” requested Zhao Xiuyuan rest in bed, appointing Zhao Dalang as Vice Commissioner of the Silk Bureau. Before the official’s foot left the threshold, Zhao Xiuyuan leaned over his bed, spewing blood across the floor.

Though disagreeing with his cousin’s thoughts, seeing Zhao Xiuyuan’s ashen face, Zhao Dalang felt sympathy: “Second Brother, though I may not excel at officialdom, I will do my utmost to protect the Zhao clan members and promote Zhao family brocade. Rest assured.”

Several hundred members of the Zhao family had been captured in Nanzhao, not knowing when they might return to the Great Tang. Making the best of the situation, Zhao Dalang, devoted to silk crafting, had come to terms with it. They would settle in Nanzhao, multiply their descendants, and pass down the Zhao family brocade.

After spitting blood, he lay dizzy and weak, gasping for breath. Zhao Xiuyuan laughed weakly. He and his eldest cousin had competed for family headship since childhood. All his scheming was in vain; in the end, he had only paved the way for his eldest cousin.

The light before his eyes gradually dimmed. A brocade robe floated by, a veil hiding an ugly face. Zhao Xiuyuan spoke weakly: “You’re about to become a widow.”

Niu Wuniang walked slowly to the bedside, leisurely sitting on a stool: “I thought you could still contend with Yang Jingyuan. After all, you were the Zhao family heir. Someone capable of leading the Zhao family shouldn’t lose to a concubine’s son. I was blind to have misjudged you.”

Provoked to a flush in his cheeks, Zhao Xiuyuan pushed himself up: “Womanly mercy. If not for your interference last night, I would have succeeded long ago. *cough cough*…”

He wiped away the blood he had coughed up, leaning against the bed gasping for air. The regret of not having Ji Yingying made him forget the burning pain in his chest. All because of this ugly woman! She would not let him die in peace!

“Had I known he was already here, why would I have stopped you? My regret is no less than yours.” Niu Wuniang spoke, giggling, “Too bad Ji Yingying still died. Even in death, she was in Sheng Fengze’s arms. He won’t even see her corpse.”

The more pain Yang Jingyuan felt, the happier she was.

“Pity he won’t spare you a glance. Your gleeful laughter, he won’t hear it either. Isn’t disappointment more painful than regret?” Zhao Xiuyuan coldly watched Niu Wuniang, speaking venomously.

“You think I’m like you?” Niu Wuniang rose with a sweep of her sleeve, laughing brazenly. As she turned back, her eyes visible outside the veil flashed with an almost demonic light, “Heaven itself will help me. My Qinian has come to see me with her husband. Sang Shisi is Yang Jingyuan’s dearest friend. When I chop off his writing hand and send it to Yang Jingyuan, he’ll wish he had wings to fly here to see me! Haha!”

She walked out laughing, then turned back to curtsy: “My lord, this concubine hopes you’ll expire soon. Dalang is kind-hearted, he surely won’t let your incense and offerings end. This concubine will adopt a son. My lord need not worry about this concubine being lonely and uncared for in old age.”

Niu Wuniang straightened up and, holding Yuyuan’s hand, lightly disappeared from the doorway.

“Vicious woman! Vicious woman! Someone, someone come!” Zhao Xiuyuan pounded the bed, wanting to call for water. No one answered; all around was so quiet not even the wind could be heard. He heard his breathing grow more urgent, his chest like a leaking bellows, struggling to breathe no matter how hard he tried.

He called until his voice grew hoarse and he had no strength left.

After lying there for who knows how long, Zhao Xiuyuan caught the scent of peach blossoms. He hazily opened his eyes. Light filtered through the bright tiles of the roof with a faint green tinge. Had he fallen asleep under the Chinese parasol tree again? Where was Yingying? Oh, Yingying had gone to gather dyes while he slept. Her eyes could distinguish eighteen shades of Shu red silk. The blue she mixed for his peacock feather patterns had twelve variants. She was his treasure; with her, he could weave the most beautiful brocade paintings in the world.

In his daze, Zhao Xiuyuan saw Ji Yingying return carrying a small bamboo basket full of dyes. He smiled at her, finally remembering what he wanted to tell her. He took out the painting he had made and reached out both hands to her: “Yingying, Grandfather has approved our marriage! Look at this painting, I’ll weave it as your betrothal gift.”

Green foliage spreads like a canopy. Black tiles and white walls. She wore a light red jacket, leaning against a red-lacquered carved wooden window looking toward him.

She took the painting, suddenly threw it to the ground, and stomped on it repeatedly. Her eyes, like black pearls, suddenly turned cold: “Who would marry you? You’re disgusting!”

Ji Yingying snorted and turned to run.

“Yingying!” Zhao Xiuyuan cried out, collapsing onto the bed.

When the Zhao family servants finally came with medicine, they saw blood everywhere and Zhao Xiuyuan unconscious. Frightened, they dropped the medicine bowl and ran: “First Young Master! Second Young Master has stopped breathing!”

By the time Zhao Dalang arrived, Zhao Xiuyuan’s breathing was barely audible. He leaned close to his mouth and heard two mumbled words: “Go home…”

The Zhao mansion went into mourning. To reassure the hearts of the Tang silk households, the sovereign specially sent officials to pay condolences.

Niu Wuniang knelt before the spirit tablet in full mourning white. Fearing the Zhao family would bully her, Yuyuan dared not leave her side. They finally waited for the servant women who had gone to the inn to capture people to return. Niu Wuniang patted her skirt and turned into the inner hall.

“How can they be gone?! The city gates are heavily guarded to catch Yang Jingyuan. How did those two slip out of the city?” Niu Wuniang shouted in fury, “Yuyuan, go, go capture Sang Shisi!”

“Mistress, I cannot leave you!” Sang Shisi was important, but you are more important. Yuyuan knelt before Niu Wuniang, “Keep me with you. Everyone in the Zhao family wants you dead, I won’t go anywhere.”

Niu Wuniang clutched her chest, trying to suppress that thread of fear and helplessness. She wanted Yang Jingyuan to hate her. If he didn’t love her, she would make him hate her.

“Prepare the cart to go to the Du mansion. I must see Lord Qingping. Now!” Niu Wuniang thought of Du Yan.

The servant reporting the news stared in shock, dropping to her knees: “Second Mistress, you still need to keep vigil for Second Young Master. This servant cannot obey you.” She kowtowed to Niu Wuniang, then turned and ran.

“Rebellion! This is rebellion!” Niu Wuniang raged, pounding heavily on the table.

“Mistress, this servant will drive and accompany you.” Yuyuan supported her as mistress and servant went to drive the cart away from the Zhao residence.

When they returned from Du Yan’s mansion, First Madam Zhao led the household maids and servants to block the entrance.

Yuyuan jumped down from the cart, helping Niu Wuniang descend. She glared at First Madam Zhao: “What is First Madam doing? Second Young Master has just passed away, and you want to drive my mistress out?”

First Madam Zhao spat contemptuously on the ground, speaking loudly to the silk household onlookers around: “My second brother-in-law hasn’t been dead a day, and Lady Niu, instead of keeping vigil, takes it upon herself to leave in a cart. Lady Niu, do you have any thoughts for my second brother-in-law in your eyes or heart? Since coming to Nanzhao, do you remember even a fraction of propriety and shame? Forgive me, but the Zhao family has no place for such a daughter-in-law. Be on your way!”

With that, two sturdy servant women beside her picked up two bundles and threw them onto the ox cart.

“You dare!” Yuyuan exploded in rage, charging at First Madam Zhao.

First Madam Zhao, prepared for this, retreated behind the threshold. Zhao’s family’s young men blocked Yuyuan with staff in hand.

First Madam Zhao sneered: “Neighbors, watch clearly. Lady Niu! No matter how skilled your maid is in martial arts, even if she kills everyone in our Zhao family, I, as the matriarch, will never let such a woman step half a foot into the Zhao family door!”

“Yuyuan!” Niu Wuniang called to stop Yuyuan. To drive her out, the Zhao family had summoned over a hundred young men. Once fighting broke out, Yuyuan might save herself with all her might, but couldn’t necessarily protect her. Niu Wuniang proudly sat on the ox cart, saying to First Madam Zhao: “If you want me to leave, fine. Bring brush and ink, let me write a severance letter, and we’ll have nothing more to do with each other. I’m also tired of bearing your Zhao family name.”

The crowd erupted in exclamation.

First Madam Zhao’s face turned iron-gray as she shouted: “If anyone’s writing, it should be our Zhao family writing you a divorce letter!”

Niu Wuniang sneered: “Then let’s see the officials. See whether they rule that I, Niu Wuniang, should continue as Second Madam of the Zhao family, or let you drive me away!”

Suddenly remembering her connection to Minister of Personnel Du Yan, First Madam Zhao commanded: “Give her brush and ink!”

Niu Wuniang wrote hastily, tossing the letter down from the cart. Yuyuan snorted and drove away with Niu Wuniang.

A servant woman picked up the paper and handed it to First Madam Zhao.

“Married just two years, both grew weary of each other. You now journey to the yellow springs, long drought meets sweet rain, should raise one great toast. May we never meet in the next life!”

“Vicious woman!” First Madam Zhao trembled in rage, cursing without cease.

Bearing the hateful gazes of the entire Jinye Street, Niu Wuniang remained unmoved.

Someone threw a handful of rotten vegetables onto the ox cart, prompting the entire street of Tang people to follow suit, chasing, beating, and cursing Niu Wuniang, telling her to get out.

Yuyuan drove the cart without daring to look back, fleeing swiftly. She worried constantly whether Niu Wuniang had been hit.

Niu Wuniang picked off the rotten vegetables that had fallen on her shoulder and threw them away, saying softly: “Even in death, I’m clean now, no longer Zhao Niu-shi.”

Yuyuan nodded heavily: “Don’t worry, Mistress. Yuyuan can support you.”