In the main hall of the Yang residence stood a white jade peony sculpture.

Zhang Luo stood alone before the jade peony wearing mourning clothes, silent.

He had shown restraint by not bringing the full force of the Jinyi Wei (Imperial Guard) with him, but even so, not a single maid in the main hall dared treat him as a guest of the Yang household – none approached to offer tea.

Since his promotion to Commander of the Northern Disciplinary Court, too many have died by his hand these past years.

Officials in the capital rarely spoke of Zhang Luo, avoiding him when possible. Fortunately, he had never been one for socializing. Though he showed no mercy in his duties, he also left no room for favors, which spared him from many seeking to curry his influence.

Over time, local officials gave him a nickname from the jianghu world – “Official of the Dark Realm.” Once encountered in their jurisdiction, one had to prepare for chains, imprisonment, and facing judgment stripped bare before the gates of hell.

Yet it was said Zhang Luo showed great filial piety toward his mother.

Zhang Luo’s mother had passed away early, but before her death, she had arranged his marriage to Yang Wan of the Yang family.

Though the Zhang family had risen meteorically in the capital these past years – Zhang Cong entering the cabinet and Zhang Luo controlling half the Imperial Guard – many noble families wished to form marriage alliances. Lesser families even offered their daughters as concubines, but Zhang Luo refused to hear any of it.

As for his feelings toward Yang Wan, perhaps even he hadn’t considered them.

The Yang family had produced an Imperial Consort, gentle and well-mannered, with an excellent reputation in the palace. Yang Wan too had been raised in seclusion by Lady Chen, never showing herself to outsiders. Zhang Luo had yet to meet her.

However, he had seen Consort Ning Yang Jun in the palace – a beautiful woman with eyes full of tender feelings.

He’d heard Yang Wan resembled Yang Jun closely, so she must also be a beauty.

“Lord Zhang.”

Zhang Luo looked up. Yang Wan was walking through the moon gate toward the main hall.

The breeze flowing through the halls couldn’t stir his heavy hemp mourning clothes, but it made her silk robes flutter like butterfly wings.

Whether by intent or not, the servants all stood far away.

She too approached alone.

“Yang Wan greets Lord Zhang.”

She bowed to Zhang Luo, the twin lotus jade pendants at her waist chiming with her movement, the pearl earrings by her face swaying gently. Indeed, her appearance and bearing were quite similar to Consort Ning in the palace.

“Yang Wan?”

Zhang Luo crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow.

“Yes.”

Yang Wan straightened, then hesitated, wondering if she should curtsey again. But Zhang Luo gave a cold laugh, suddenly unsheathing his sword and reversing it, pressing the hilt under Yang Wan’s chin, forcing her head up with a light touch.

Zhang Luo studied Yang Wan for a moment, then suddenly pulled sideways with his finger, causing her face to jerk sharply.

She already had an old wound on her neck, and the pain nearly made her cry out.

Zhang Luo withdrew his blade and coldly regarded her. “I won’t make things difficult for you. Have Yang Lun see me.”

Yang Wan stood straight despite the pain. “My lord has come regarding our marriage. Even if you have reproach for me, it cannot be considered making things difficult.”

“What did you say?”

Zhang Luo advanced on Yang Wan. His hemp mourning clothes carried the heavy scent of temple incense, jarringly mismatched with the cold air around him.

“Say it again. Have Yang Lun see me.”

Yang Wan turned away. “If you came to see my brother, why bring the Imperial Guard?”

“When the Northern Disciplinary Court questions imperial officials, we follow our protocols.”

Yang Wan looked back.

“What do you wish to ask?”

Zhang Luo’s eyes flashed darkly as he took another step toward her. “I wish to question an imperial official. You are a woman of the household and should withdraw.”

“Do you mean to ask about me having an illicit relationship with Deng Ying?”

Zhang Luo started. “Silence.”

Yang Wan smiled faintly. “Those two words are so hard to hear? Rather than question him, why not question me?”

“Insolent.”

Zhang Luo lowered his voice. “You show no shame before me. Do you think you’ve done nothing wrong?”

Yang Wan shook her head. “Even if I have erred, my lord shouldn’t vent his anger on my brother.”

“You refuse to be a wife, so you choose to be a prisoner?”

He grabbed her throat and pushed her against the jade screen. But to his surprise, the moment Yang Wan’s head touched the screen, a sharp object pierced his chest. Looking down, he saw it was a silver hairpin. This was the first time anyone had managed to counter-strike him during his attack.

“There’s no need to threaten me like this. I may not deserve imprisonment, but you dare not kill me.”

Yang Wan tilted her head back. Though her voice was constricted, her eyes showed no fear.

“Let go…”

She pushed the silver hairpin another half-inch into his chest.

“If you don’t let go, I really will kill you…”

Zhang Luo stared into Yang Wan’s eyes but couldn’t read her expression.

She didn’t seem like an especially fierce woman, fighting him with raw intensity. She had her ruthlessness, but also a measured control he couldn’t understand.

Like that silver hairpin – precisely placed two inches from his vital point.

“So this is the kind of person you are.”

He released Yang Wan’s throat and looked down at his chest.

Though not deep, the wound was bleeding.

“Don’t move.”

Yang Wan pulled out the hairpin. His blood ran down her arm, and she carelessly wiped it with her sleeve before turning to Yin’er who stood frozen behind the screen: “Bring medicine.”

She deliberately coughed several times to steady her breathing after Zhang Luo’s grip.

“I’m sorry. I know this is very unfair to you. I also know that because of me alone, both you and the Zhang family have endured unnecessary shame. So…”

She dropped the hairpin and knelt before Zhang Luo, her skirts pooling around her: “I apologize and beg forgiveness from Lord Zhang, and ask that you spare my brother.”

Zhang Luo looked at his blood dripping on the floor, then at Yang Wan.

She was wrapped in light lotus-colored silk, her delicate white fingers pressed against the cold floor, looking almost pitiful.

It was hard to imagine these hands had just stabbed him with a hairpin.

Zhang Luo ground the hairpin under his foot, the sharp metallic scraping making Yang Wan involuntarily clench her teeth.

Suddenly Zhang Luo kicked the pin away, lifted his robes to crouch down, and seized Yang Wan’s chin, forcing her to look up.

“For such a fierce woman, why commit such improper acts? If you had no interest in me, you could have said so directly. I am not shameless enough to force you to be my wife.”

Yang Wan raised her head. “By speaking thus, my lord has already condemned me?”

Zhang Luo was unsettled by the look in her eyes, but she refused to look away.

“If our Yang family refuses to break the engagement and insists on marrying into your Zhang family, what then?”

“I cannot allow someone who has shamed me to live by my side.”

Yang Wan smiled slightly after hearing this. “If I don’t marry into the Zhang family, what must I do to dispel your hatred?”

Zhang Luo said nothing, but his grip grew stronger. Yang Wan winced in pain, her eyes involuntarily reddening.

“So… you want me to take my own life, is that it?”

Though tears welled in her eyes, there was a smile in their depths. “Don’t you find it laughable? You are the Commander of the Northern Disciplinary Court, overseer of the imperial prison. Officials throughout the capital fear you. Does such a person’s reputation need to be maintained by the life of a mere woman? Are your achievements at court and reputation abroad all false?”

“Impudent!”

“I have done nothing improper with Deng Ying.”

She met Zhang Luo’s gaze. “My brother is also blameless. The guilty ones are those who use my chastity to seemingly stand up for you and sympathize when they just want to watch drama between our two houses. Lord Zhang, you are indeed a powerful figure in the capital, but you’ve never been married. They know you cannot be as decisive in this matter as you are in prison, so they deliberately look down on you and mock you. Yang Wan understands that speaking to you this way is impudent. But to take my brother away for questioning or force me to suicide over mere rumors – these are not actions worthy of someone like you.”

Zhang Luo’s fingers cracked as he gripped Yang Wan.

“Did Yang Lun teach you to say this?”

Yang Wan was forced to tilt her head back. “Why would you think that? Can’t you tell these are words I had no choice but to say?”

Zhang Luo grabbed her chin and yanked her up, then threw her aside.

Yang Wan’s waist hit the sharp corner of a huanghuali wood table. The pain was too intense to bear, and she couldn’t help but crouch down, clutching her waist.

Zhang Luo looked down at Yang Wan contemptuously.

“Whore.”

Though separated by centuries of civilization, vicious words share commonalities.

Yang Wan understood the implicit threat of violation in his tone.

“What did you say?”

Zhang Luo said coldly: “My not taking Yang Lun away today does not mean I can tolerate you living with that criminal from the Imperial Household Department. I walk within and without the court with clear eyes. As long as you remain in the capital, your lives are under my blade at any moment.”

He pressed down on his sword hilt and turned to stride out of the main hall.

As he descended the steps, he brushed past a servant bringing medicine. The servant dropped the tray, shattering the medicine bottle. The grayish powder scattered like paper ash across the ground.

Yang Wan sat on the floor, trying desperately to force the word “whore” out of her mind.

But it only grew louder.

Yin’er came to help her up and settle her in an armchair.

“Miss, where are you hurt? Why are you so pale?”

Yang Wan coughed harshly several times. “That garbage person just called me a whore!”

“Shh… how can you still speak of it…”

Yang Wan was so angry her head hurt. She had spoken too much earlier, and now her throat was irritated, making her cough worse and worse.

Seeing her press her neck again, Yin’er hurriedly asked: “Should we tell the madam to have Doctor Liu come to examine you again? When I saw Lord Zhang grab your throat earlier, I was terrified to death.”

Yang Wan waved her hand. “It’s fine, he didn’t use much force. I’m just thirsty… I want to… go get some water.”

She moved to pour herself water from the kettle.

“Miss, let Yin’er serve you.” She took over from Yang Wan’s hands.

Yang Wan withdrew her hands somewhat sheepishly, watching Yin’er bustle about.

Indeed, noble daughters of this era were raised in luxury, their hands never touching spring water, but their lives were as fragile as paper.

Though Yang Wan had been seven or eight-tenths academically and theoretically prepared for her confrontation with Zhang Luo, she still felt afraid afterward.

Even with her ability to control the bigger picture of these twelve years, her understanding of Zhang Luo’s temperament, and her advantage in the game of hearts and minds, the gender-based oppression Zhang Luo imposed on her was truly terrifying.

Especially when Zhang Luo stared at her and called her a “whore” – in modern society, she would have fought back immediately, and even if she couldn’t win there would be police to handle it. But here, facing Zhang Luo, she could only feel anger without daring to voice it.

Yang Wan sighed at the thought, barely dispersing the fire in her heart, and raised her hand to tuck away loose strands of hair by her ear.

“Why did I transmigrate in soul rather than body? In this form, trying to be an independent female researcher in the Ming Dynasty is too difficult.”

She muttered to herself, then thought of Deng Ying and suddenly felt something was wrong.

If she had transmigrated in her body, she wouldn’t even have household registration in the Ming Dynasty. Forget following Deng Ying – she wouldn’t be able to take a single step. Realizing this, she quickly shook her head.

“Go to the palace with your sister-in-law tomorrow.”

Yang Lun’s voice came from above.

Yang Wan hurriedly adjusted her clothes as she stood.

Yang Lun looked at her disheveled state, then at the finger marks on her neck and jaw, and softly asked “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.”

Yang Wan pressed the back of her head, not daring to look at him.

Yang Lun bent down and gently lifted her hair.

“It’s nothing…”

“Don’t move, let me look.”

Yang Wan pressed her lips together, truly not moving.

“Wan’er.”

Yang Wan started – this was rare.

Thinking back, this was the first time Yang Lun had called her Wan’er since bringing her back.

“Yes?”

“Today you saved me. I hadn’t expected… these eighteen years, was your behavior by my side all an act?”

Yang Wan felt Yang Lun’s words carried some desolation. She pressed her lips together and looked down, not responding.

Yang Lun’s sister was already dead. The Yang family’s one-sided kindness to her came from blood ties, but she could never return the same familial feeling. It was rather cruel.

“Why don’t you speak?”

“Um… no, I was just thinking, don’t you like me as I am now, brother?”

Yang Lun coughed once, gently letting down her hair.

“It’s not that. I truly was angry these past days scolding you. But thinking that you’re alive – that’s already heaven’s mercy to your brother.”