At this thought, Luo Huaimeng could not help letting out a quiet sigh.

“Is Er Yitai sighing because of the Young Mistress?” Xiangxiu asked carefully as she swapped out a pot of tea.

Luo Huaimeng half-closed her eyes as though resting: “Do you think it was she who arranged the matter of those two maids?”

“If we’re speaking of who stood to gain the most from this, it would certainly be the Young Mistress. But looking at her conduct and reactions throughout today, it doesn’t seem like something she would do.”

Luo Huaimeng let out a hum. “I think she managed to fool everyone in that room.”

Playing the part of the pitiable, timid little mouse—and yet wielding conspiracies and stratagems without a trace of hesitation. Hmph. One truly should not underestimate that delicate exterior of hers.

Xiangxiu covered her mouth with a smile. “And yet today Er Yitai was helping the Young Mistress as well. If this affair ended as it did, Er Yitai’s contribution was not small.”

“Listen to you and your clever mouth.” Luo Huaimeng shot her a glare, and Xiangxiu fell instantly silent.

Luo Huaimeng always wore a cool expression and treated everyone around her with the same cool detachment. But in Xiangxiu’s heart, Er Yitai was deeply kind to her servants. All of Xiangxiu’s brothers and sisters had been found positions through Er Yitai’s arrangements, securing their family’s livelihood. For Er Yitai’s own relatives as well, she helped wherever she could and offered what assistance she was able.

“Enough,” Luo Huaimeng sighed. “So long as Xingzhi is content, let them be.”

Xiangxiu kneaded Er Yitai’s shoulders. “Children and grandchildren carry their own fortunes. Er Yitai need not worry too much. Besides, does Er Yitai truly doubt the Seventh Young Master’s judgment? Whoever he has set his heart on is bound to be someone extraordinary.”

“Let us hope he has not misjudged. Hmph!” Though Luo Huaimeng’s expression remained unchanged, her tone had noticeably lost the edge it once carried.

On Yan Qing’s side, she had left Luo Huaimeng’s Lanxiang Courtyard with Jing Zhi and set out to search for Erdan.

Erdan had always trailed after Jianguo like a shadow wherever he went. Today, Jianguo had gone to the Military Police Division on assignment, and Erdan had likely tried to go find him and wandered aimlessly around the Shi Mansion in the process.

“That mischievous little thing, just wait until I find it—I’ll smack its backside,” Jing Zhi fumed.

Yan Qing laughed. “I wish you that same boldness when it’s grown up.”

Imagining a fully grown Erdan, Jing Zhi fell silent. They say a tiger’s backside is not to be touched—she wouldn’t dare touch it, let alone smack it. And so Jing Zhi fervently hoped Erdan would never grow up.

The two of them turned past a garden rockery and heard sounds of commotion ahead.

“You wretched cat—where do you think you’re going?”

“Block it! Block it—it’s heading that way!”

“Don’t worry, it can’t get away.”

A cry rang out.

Yan Qing’s heart clenched. That was Erdan’s voice.

Not far ahead on the grass stood three young women. One of them wore a brightly colored Western dress, her hair styled in the fashionable tight curls of the day. Her features were not particularly refined, but there was an unmistakable coquettish quality about them.

Shi Yutong.

The two girls flanking Shi Yutong wore the uniform of a nursing academy—clearly her schoolmates.

Caught in the middle of the three of them was a small white bundle—Erdan.

Erdan seemed to be searching for a way out, but wherever it turned, a foot blocked the path. Every so often, those feet would land a kick on its body. Erdan was not yet large, and had already been kicked several times. Being a creature that refused to submit, it got back up each time it was knocked down, its fur a disheveled mess.

“You filthy cat—you’re so ugly.”

“Yutong, doesn’t your family keep a wolfhound in the back courtyard? Why don’t we throw this ugly cat to it later for some fun?”

“Yes, yes, let’s do that right now!” Shi Yutong clapped her hands with delight. “Let’s throw it over right now.”

Just as Shi Yutong was reaching for Erdan, Erdan let out a cry and sank its teeth into the back of her hand. Shi Yutong immediately shrieked. Seeing her slender hand bleeding, she screamed: “Kill it! Kill this ugly cat! I’ll have it skinned alive!”

“Stop!” A sharp command rang out, and the other two girls froze instinctively.

Yan Qing strode over quickly and bent down to lift Erdan from the ground. The little creature was dirty all over. Though there were no obvious wounds on the outside, it looked badly shaken.

“So this is yours.” The moment Shi Yutong saw Yan Qing, she immediately shrilled: “Your ugly cat bit me! I’m going to have it skinned and gutted!”

“If you hadn’t provoked it, would it have bitten you?” Yan Qing looked back at her calmly.

Shi Yutong had frequently bullied Yan Qing back at school. Later, when Yan Qing came back from the dead and returned to school, she had tried to best her again—only to find herself outmaneuvered at every turn. But by that point Yan Qing had gradually stopped attending school, and their encounters had grown infrequent, though that had done nothing to diminish Shi Yutong’s loathing for this woman who was now her seventh sister-in-law.

“You let your cat wander wherever it pleased without looking after it, and now it’s gone and hurt someone. Hmph—I’m going straight to Madam to report this.” That one glance from Yan Qing had seemed mild enough, but it carried an underlying sharpness. Shi Yutong felt a flutter in her chest, yet she had always been emboldened in this household—who would dare touch her, with the Marshal doting on her mother and protecting her?

“Do you dare go to Madam with me right now and see whether she sides with your ugly cat or with me? Don’t think that marrying Seventh Brother makes you the mistress of this household. Today I kicked your cat—and next time you displease me, I’ll strike you too. Don’t believe me? Try me.”

“Is that so? Then I’d very much like to try.” A figure emerged from the shaded path flanking them, standing tall and commanding, his presence filling the air.

The two schoolmates at Shi Yutong’s side could not help exclaiming inwardly: how handsome.

Shi Ting walked up beside Yan Qing. Erdan, as though it had suffered a tremendous injustice, let out a plaintive cry at him.

Shi Ting extended his hand and gently rubbed Erdan’s head. The little creature at once nestled contentedly back into Yan Qing’s arms.

“Seventh Brother?” Shi Yutong was still afraid of this particular older brother. Seeing him arrive, her bravado deflated at once.

“What did you just say? Who were you going to strike?” Shi Ting did not look at her, his attention still on Erdan, his tone unhurried yet enough to send a chill through anyone nearby.

“I… I didn’t say anything.” Shi Yutong didn’t dare defy Shi Ting to his face. She could only lie through her teeth.

“Erdan is the one I raised—not any ugly cat,” Shi Ting said. Then he glanced over. “Eighth Sister, you should go and have that hand bandaged.”

Shi Yutong looked at her hand. The injury wasn’t serious, but it was still bleeding. Having no desire to stay and face off with Shi Ting, she immediately agreed and turned to leave.

But just as she had taken two steps, she heard Shi Ting say in an unhurried, offhand tone: “You are under my protection—so if anyone ever wants to bully you in future, they’ll have to answer to me first.”

Shi Yutong turned back. She saw Shi Ting speaking toward the little white tiger—but clearly those words were meant for her ears.

She immediately let out a sound and quickened her pace away.

Yan Qing looked at the man in front of her who appeared to be addressing a tiger, and warmth filled her gaze. He was standing up for her.

“Young Mistress, we should quickly check Erdan for injuries,” Jing Zhi said anxiously. “I saw them kick it quite a few times just now.”

“It should be fine.” Yan Qing set Erdan down—and sure enough, it immediately sprang back to life with full vigor. That crumpled, helpless display from moments before had apparently been an act.

Jing Zhi: “……”

Truly a tiger with schemes of its own.

In the days that followed, Yan Qing continued to decoct and deliver medicine to Luo Huaimeng each day. While Luo Huaimeng did not become particularly warm, she was now at least able to exchange a few words with her.

Yan Qing had always been someone who preferred quiet over noise. When the two of them were together, they would often simply drink tea—Luo Huaimeng reading, and Yan Qing practicing embroidery.

Yan Qing’s embroidery left something to be desired. After correcting her technique several times, Luo Huaimeng gave up watching with any patience, deciding the woman was simply beyond improvement.

Luo Huaimeng could not understand it. Young ladies raised in well-bred households were expected to be accomplished in at least one of the refined arts—music, chess, calligraphy, or painting—yet Yan Qing could not even manage the most rudimentary embroidery. It truly confounded her expectations.

And yet, though Luo Huaimeng had no patience for what she stitched, every time Yan Qing returned the next day, she would discover that what she had embroidered the previous day had been altered—clearly Luo Huaimeng had unpicked her mistakes and restitched them.

Yan Qing noticed, but said nothing. She simply felt a quiet delight in her heart. They say the mother-in-law and daughter-in-law relationship is a difficult one. If the mother-in-law is a difficult and exacting woman, even offering her your heart would be treated as worthless. But if the mother-in-law is wise and magnanimous, the two might not become close as mother and daughter, but they could live together in harmony—because they both cared, in the end, for the same man.

Time passed, and June arrived. The weather in Shun Cheng gradually grew hot.

Summer was the season forensic doctors liked least, for corpses decomposed far more rapidly in the heat.

Yan Qing leafed through the book in her hands. It occurred to her that she had not been to the Military Police Division in quite some time, and she could not help feeling she was being somewhat unprofessional. But Shi Ting, not wanting her to draw criticism so soon after their wedding, had kept her away from casework.

“Young Mistress,” Murong said, pushing open the door and carrying in a plate of pastries. “Er Yitai had these apricot kernel cakes sent over.”

On the surface, Er Yitai maintained a cool indifference toward this daughter-in-law. But whenever there was something good to eat or use, she was invariably the first to send it over.

Yan Qing washed her hands and picked up a piece of apricot kernel cake. One bite, and it dissolved on her tongue—truly a fine thing.

“Let’s go keep Mother company for lunch at noon,” Yan Qing was just thinking about which of her specialty dishes to prepare and bring over, when Jing Zhi’s voice carried in from outside.

“Young Mistress, the Young Master has returned.”

Shi Ting had left early that morning. It was not yet nine o’clock—why had he come back so soon?

Yan Qing had barely risen to her feet when Shi Ting pushed open the door and stepped inside. Seeing the slightly puzzled look on her face, he smiled. “My lady, get ready. I’m taking you somewhere.”

—