When Xu Fang finished speaking, her entire body trembled uncontrollably, her face even paler than the accumulated snow on the eaves.

Luo Sheng had also finished listening.

Her face appeared completely calm, but her heart felt as if it were submerged in a boiling pot of oil, churning in agony.

From the very beginning, when she first learned news of her two elder sisters, she had suspected that her eldest sister’s death was not as simple as dying from illness.

But even though she was willing to assume the worst malice in people, she could never have imagined that the truth was like this.

Her eldest sister had actually been smothered to death right in front of her daughter!

She could barely bring herself to imagine what her eldest sister’s state of mind had been before death.

At that moment, how worried the eldest sister must have been about the daughter hiding in the wardrobe…

“Miss Luo, I know I shouldn’t trouble others with such matters, but I truly don’t know how to seek justice for my mother. I once hoped that after marrying, I might have some freedom and power, but relying on marriage is ultimately a matter of gambling on luck…”

Just like Mother—a princess who married down into a marquis’s household, only to marry a beast in human clothing like Father.

Countless times she had envied Second Aunt—not for herself, but on behalf of Mother.

Even though Second Aunt had also met a bad end, she had been much happier than Mother.

“Have your father and stepmother made any plans for your marriage?” Luo Sheng collected her emotions and asked calmly.

Xu Fang slowly shook her head. “These past years, I’ve sensed that Father’s suspicions toward me have never dissipated. He probably prefers keeping me where he can watch me.”

Once a woman married, her natal family’s control over her diminished greatly.

Luo Sheng laughed coldly. “Does he intend to keep you as a spinster for life?”

Xu Fang smiled bitterly. “Father and Stepmother both care greatly about appearances. Keeping me a spinster for life wouldn’t happen, but they might just delay year after year until I’m too old and naturally can’t find any good family.”

These words she had never even mentioned to her maternal aunt.

Speculating about Father this way in front of people who didn’t know the truth was thankless and exhausting.

“What about the Duchess of Ningguo? Has she ever inquired about your marriage prospects?”

Xu Fang’s face reddened slightly. “My maternal aunt has mentioned keeping an eye out for me.”

“Miss Xu is a clever person. After this new year, try to get the Duchess of Ningguo to arrange a good match for you.”

“But marriages require parental consent and a matchmaker’s words. My father may not agree—”

The corners of Luo Sheng’s lips curved into a mocking arc. “The Duchess of Ningguo’s influence carries enough weight. When your father is overwhelmed with troubles, he won’t want to offend people.”

Overwhelmed with troubles?

Xu Fang’s heart stirred, and she asked somewhat urgently, “Miss Luo, you have a way to deal with my father?”

“One step at a time.”

“My marriage isn’t urgent…” Afraid that her own affairs might interfere with revenge, Xu Fang quickly added.

Luo Sheng smiled. “When the nest is overturned, no egg remains unbroken. If you want revenge, you can’t sacrifice yourself in the process.”

Xu Fang bit her lip. “If it means avenging my mother, I don’t care!”

Luo Sheng looked at her deeply. “Your mother cares.”

Xu Fang suddenly had no words. She stared at Luo Sheng in a daze, tears streaming down her face.

Luo Sheng reached out to grasp that icy hand and said softly, “Don’t cry anymore. Revenge will be had.”

Xu Fang murmured, “For Miss Luo to help me like this—”

Luo Sheng’s lips curved. “In any case, I’m idle. And besides, who told me to find your father and stepmother so displeasing to the eye?”

Xu Fang left, but Luo Sheng’s mood could not settle for a long time.

The persimmon tree in the courtyard was draped in thick silver garments. The stone chairs and benches nearby were similarly piled with a thick layer of snow, gleaming in the sunlight.

Luo Sheng walked over and reached out to brush the accumulated snow from the stone bench.

“Miss, you want to sit here? Then wait a moment.”

Kou’er quickly entered the room and soon emerged with a feather duster and a thick cushion. She swept away the snow and laid out the cushion, and in a flash had even prepared hot tea.

“It’s cold here. You can’t sit too long. But if you want some fresh air, sitting for a while to look at the persimmon tree isn’t bad…” While chattering on, Kou’er deftly brought over a brazier and placed it beside Luo Sheng.

“Summon the proprietress.”

Shortly after, the female proprietress arrived. “What are the boss’s instructions?”

“I recall there’s a Censor Ma who occasionally comes to the tavern to drink?” Luo Sheng asked while holding her hot tea.

She had opened this tavern to weave a network that would ensnare the capital’s powerful and nobility, to be deployed when she needed it. Therefore, she paid attention to everyone who came to the tavern.

The proprietress was a clever woman. When Luo Sheng asked this, not a trace of surprise showed on her face. She immediately said, “Boss, please wait a moment.”

After Luo Sheng took a few sips of tea, the proprietress returned carrying a thick ledger.

Standing beside Luo Sheng, the proprietress opened the ledger nimbly, looked it over, and reported in a low voice, “Censor Ma comes on the second day of each month—”

Her expression became somewhat peculiar.

“What is it?”

The proprietress said, “Each time he comes, he orders a bowl of spring noodles and a cup of burning liquor.”

It turned out that the ledgers the proprietress copied and wrote in daily were not simple account books, but detailed records of the identities of customers who came to drink each day, as well as what food and drink they ordered.

The proprietress’s thinking was quite straightforward: those who came to drink were all high officials and nobles. How could she not understand the tastes of these distinguished people? Would she be a qualified proprietress otherwise?

“This Censor Ma is poor enough.” Hong Dou curled her lip.

But Luo Sheng’s somber mood seemed to have a beam of light shine into it. She said flatly, “That’s actually good.”

Great Zhou officials received their monthly salaries on the first day of each month. That Censor Ma came to drink on the second day of each month showed that he had just received his monthly salary and had some spare money on hand.

Combined with what he ordered, one could see he was someone who greatly enjoyed good food—he was just short on money.

“Write a notice saying that the tavern will close for the new year holidays, and to thank customers, we’ll offer one dish at a ten-percent discount each day. Today it will be braised beef.”

“Ten percent?” The proprietress quickly calculated. “Braised beef is twenty taels per plate. Wouldn’t that be only two taels of silver?”

Luo Sheng nodded.

The proprietress looked pained and said quietly, “Even fifty percent would already show great sincerity.”

Ten percent—wasn’t that practically giving it away for free?

Hong Dou laughed cheerfully. “Proprietress, just follow our miss’s arrangements. Our miss isn’t short of money.”

The proprietress’s heart trembled.

She had been careless, still thinking according to her old ways from when she ran the cosmetics shop, forgetting that she now worked under Miss Luo.

The proprietress hurried off to handle things according to Luo Sheng’s instructions.

Luo Sheng instructed Hong Dou, “Bring a pot of burning liquor.”

Shortly after, a jade-colored wine pot appeared on the stone table.

Luo Sheng lifted the wine pot and poured herself a cup of warm liquor, slowly drinking while watching the young man in the corner chop firewood.

The monotonous sound of chopping wood entered her ears, bringing some small measure of peace to her heart that bore too many burdens.

Wei Han entered the tavern and asked Shi Yan, “Where is Miss Luo?”

“Miss Luo is in the rear courtyard looking at the persimmon tree.”

“Alone?” Wei Han asked without showing his concern.

“Ah, yes.”

Wei Han strode over and lifted the thick cotton door curtain.

The young lady in a blue cloak sat on the stone bench, wine cup in hand, gazing absently at the young man chopping firewood.

She sat motionless, frozen together with the persimmon tree that accompanied her into a tranquil tableau.

Because of this, the sound of chopping wood entering his ears became irritating.