The spring rain seemed endless, falling incessantly.

The room was warm, with a blazing fire on the stove. The lid of the medicinal pot atop it rose with steam, and clear bubbling sounds could be heard.

A young woman sat before a mirror. The bronze mirror reflected a slightly pale face, with diminished beauty and thinned features. Her lips were like small water chestnuts, pressed together, elegant yet distant. Her almond eyes were black and moist, like a mountain stream about to gather mist. As the clouds dispersed, they revealed brilliant jewels. With snow-white skin and flower-like features, she was a beautiful sixteen-year-old girl, but merely beautiful and nothing more.

She was certainly aware of her beauty, as evidenced by the dressing table filled with rouge, powder, and hair oils. Surrounded by the fragrance of cosmetics, He Yan wrinkled her nose and couldn’t help but sneeze.

The bronze mirror instantly frosted over with her warm breath, making her face unclear. He Yan experienced a moment of disorientation as if returning to the first time she removed her male attire, sitting before a mirror like this, seeing herself as a woman, feeling like another lifetime.

She had been drowned in the Xu family pond by Concubine He’s people, but upon waking, she had become He Yan. Not the sister of the current Flying Swan General He Rufei, nor Xu Zhiheng’s wife He Yan, but rather the owner of this dilapidated house, the eldest daughter of He Sui, a ninth-rank military official serving as City Gate Captain.

Both were He Yan, but their status was as different as clouds from mud.

“Yan Yan, why didn’t you say you were awake?” Along with the voice from outside, the door curtain lifted, and a figure entered with a cold breeze.

It was a middle-aged man with a full beard, square face, and dark skin. Tall and strong like a clumsy but powerful bear, his smile carried a hint of cautious eagerness. Seeing no one else in the room, he called out loudly, “Qingmei, where’s Qingmei?”

“Qingmei went to gather medicinal herbs,” He Yan said softly.

The man scratched his head and said, “Oh, then Father will pour it for you.”

The white porcelain medicine bowl wasn’t even as large as this man’s palm. He knew this and thus poured with extra care. The room instantly filled with the bitter fragrance of medicinal herbs. He Yan looked at the plum blossoms on the bowl’s edge, then shifted her gaze to the man’s face. This was He Yan’s father, City Gate Captain He Sui.

The word “father” was foreign to He Yan.

Her birth father should have been Second Master He Yuanliang of the He family, but because she had assumed He Rufei’s identity, she could only call He Yuanliang Second Uncle. Her adoptive father He Yuansheng was actually her eldest uncle.

Her relationship with her adoptive father wasn’t particularly close, and when she first expressed interest in learning martial arts, it had even reached a freezing point. Only after she earned military merit and received the Emperor’s commendation did he become warm toward her. During those earlier years, though the main branch hadn’t deprived her of food and drink, they never truly understood what she was thinking. In her youth, He Yan had thought it was because he wasn’t her birth father, but her birth father He Yuanliang was equally distant. Perhaps they viewed her as water thrown out, and since she wasn’t raised by their side, the emotional connection had faded.

Thus, the image of a father in He Yan’s mind wasn’t as clear as those of her brothers and subordinates.

He Sui before her had already poured the medicine into the bowl, carefully removing floating residue, and gently blowing on it before bringing it to He Yan, intending to feed her.

He Yan took the bowl and said, “I can manage.”

The man withdrew his hand awkwardly, saying, “Alright.”

Steam rose from the medicine, and He Yan hesitated as she looked at the bowl before her, remembering Concubine He’s words before her death.

“That bowl of medicine that blinded you was personally sent by your family elders!”

Family elders – was it He Yuansheng? Or He Yuanliang? Or someone else? Xu Zhiheng knew about it, but what about others?

She also recalled the cup of hot tea Xiaodi had handed her the day she was drowned. Who knew if things offered by others harbored malicious intent?

Seeing her reluctance to drink, He Sui thought she found it bitter and coaxed with a smile, “Don’t worry, Yan Yan, it’s not bitter. You’ll feel better after drinking it.”

He Yan hesitated no longer. Before He Sui could continue speaking, she brought the bowl to her lips and drank the entire portion in one go.

“Wait…” He Sui couldn’t speak in time. He Yan had already placed the empty bowl on the table when he finished his word: “…hot…”

“It’s not hot,” He Yan answered.

He Sui didn’t know what to say for a moment. After stammering a bit, he softly instructed, “Well, rest well in your room, don’t wander around. Father needs to go to the training grounds now.” He took the empty bowl with him.

Left alone in the room, He Yan sighed slightly in relief. She wasn’t accustomed to such intimate interactions, especially as a woman, particularly as a pampered young lady raised in the palm of someone’s hand.

The maid Qingmei hadn’t returned yet. He Sui’s monthly salary wasn’t much – a City Gate Captain was merely a civilian military official without real power, earning pitiful wages. Everyone in this household depended on He Sui’s salary alone, and they could only afford one maid. The rest of the money had probably been transformed into the cosmetics piled on Young Lady He’s dressing table.

He Yan stood up and walked to the door.

This body was soft and delicate, like white jade, fragrant and tender, entirely foreign to her. Without strength, she couldn’t protect herself. If there was anything particularly good about it, it was that her eyes were clean and bright, allowing her to see the light of the world she hadn’t seen for so long.

A thud sounded behind her. He Yan turned to see a young man unloading bundled firewood from his shoulder.

The youth wasn’t much older than He Yan’s current age, wearing a blue cotton fitted robe with matching trousers, and white cloth strips bound around his legs for convenience while working. His skin was slightly dark, his features sharing five parts similar to He Yan’s, clear and distinct, though his chin was slightly narrower and more defined, giving him a determined look that appeared stubborn and proud.

This was Young Lady He’s brother, He Sui’s youngest son He Yunsheng.

During the days He Yan had been bedridden, He Yunsheng had visited several times, bringing water and tending to the stove, but never speaking a word to He Yan. The relationship between the siblings seemed poor, but… He Yan looked at He Yunsheng’s poorly made, ill-fitting cotton clothes, then at her cyan satin dress with pink underlining, and understood slightly, yet was still surprised.

In that He family, women paved the way for men, and men were like heaven and earth, seemingly the center of the world. However, this family was different. Looking at it, the biological son seemed adopted, while all the good food and clothing went to Young Lady He alone. Why was this?

He Yan stood in front of He Yunsheng, not moving a step. He Yunsheng stacked the firewood under the eaves and began chopping.

This family was truly poor – their only servant was a maid, while their biological son did the work of a servant.

He Yan stood directly in front of the woodpile. After He Yunsheng chopped twice, he frowned slightly, “Excuse me, you’re in my way.”

He didn’t even call her “Sister.”

He Yan remained motionless, neither moving aside nor, as usual, making caustic remarks. He Yunsheng couldn’t help but look up, meeting He Yan’s serious gaze.

He Yan said, “You’re not chopping the wood correctly.”