Yan Qin fixed her gaze on Yan Qing, who sat alone by the lake. A flash of vicious intent crossed her eyes.

Yan Qing was the one who should have been marrying Shi Guang — yet somehow she had used some scheme to seduce Shi Ting and gotten Master Yan to change his mind.

As far as Yan Qin saw it, the one who had pushed her into this pit of fire was Yan Qing. If Yan Qing had agreed to marry Shi Guang, none of this suffering would have fallen on her.

Fierce hatred flooded through her, filling every limb. The surge of reckless emotion swiftly overwhelmed her reason.

She glanced around at the quiet surroundings — no one in sight, save for that wedding attendant.

If she pushed her into the lake right now, Yan Qing would surely drown, and no one would know it was her doing. Everyone would assume the wheelchair had slipped and Yan Qing had accidentally fallen in.

The thought barely formed before Yan Qin slowed her pace, moving lightly and carefully toward where Yan Qing sat.

She was only a few feet away when Yan Qing, still facing the water and tossing fish food into the lake, suddenly said in a cool, unhurried voice, “I’d advise you to stay exactly where you are.”

Yan Qin startled. She had never turned around — how had she noticed?

But almost immediately, Yan Qin let out a cold laugh. All she needed to do was reach out and push, and Yan Qing would tumble into the lake and drown. What reason did she have to hold back?

“Do you see this barrel?” Yan Qing went on tossing the fish food as though nothing were the matter. The koi surged forward in a rush, jostling to snatch up every last scrap.

Only then did Yan Qin notice it — resting against the wheelchair was a raised black metal tube, its dark muzzle aimed squarely in her direction.

“Don’t doubt it for a second — this is a real gun. Take one more step forward, and it will send a bullet your way.” Yan Qing closed the box in her hand. “Tell me — which will be faster? Your hands, or my gun?”

Yan Qin bit down on her lip, her hands balled into fists, her chest heaving with fury and indignation.

Yan Qing turned her wheelchair around to face her, her sharp gaze meeting Yan Qin’s flushed, trembling face. “If I’ve guessed correctly, the time I fell into the water — that was also your doing, wasn’t it?”

The true Sixth Miss Yan had been drowned that way.

“You’re talking nonsense. I didn’t mean to do it back then.” Yan Qin was quick to defend herself. “I just gave you a little shove. How was I supposed to know your wheelchair would slide and go straight into the lake? And aren’t you still alive, aren’t you? Lucky you.”

“And today? Will my wheelchair slip again today?”

“Yan Qing, what exactly did you see that makes you think I wanted to harm you?”

“Whether you had that intention or not, you know best in your own heart.” Yan Qing turned away and prepared to leave.

Yan Qin came after her. “Why won’t you marry Shi Guang?”

“You’re asking me?” A note of pity crept into Yan Qing’s voice. “This was the decision of the Shi Madam and your mother. The Shi Madam used the Yan family’s business interests to acquire you as her daughter-in-law. There’s probably not another unmarried young woman in all of Shun Cheng who fetches a bride price like yours — you should be pleased.”

“Nonsense. My mother knows I don’t like Shi Guang. She would never marry me off to him.”

“Look at your mother lately — her face has barely stopped beaming.” Yan Qing shook her head with quiet resignation. “Eyes aren’t just there for decoration. Some things, you have to learn to see for yourself.”

“I refuse to marry Shi Guang no matter what.” Yan Qin stomped her foot. “I’ll go find Yan Ling and have her marry into the Shi family instead.”

“Do you think the Shi family’s marriage contract is some children’s game? The betrothal document is signed, the date is set, the gifts are nearly delivered. At this point, you want Yan Ling to go in your place? Use your head for once, will you?”

“Then what am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to do?” Yan Qin’s voice rose with agitation. “It’s all your fault. If you had just married Shi Guang, none of this would have happened.”

“Miss.” Murong came hurrying back after finishing her errand and saw Yan Qin arguing with Yan Qing. She immediately rushed forward, alert and ready. “Miss.”

“Murong, let’s go back.” Yan Qing had no desire to reason with someone acting like this.

“Yes, Miss.”

Watching Yan Qing’s retreating figure, Yan Qin could do nothing but fume. She got in a few sharp words, but in the end, it was entirely futile.

Before long, the Shi family’s bridal procession arrived with a great clamor of gongs and drums, sixty-six gift loads carried in full ceremony to the Yan Mansion. On the day of the gift presentation, the street outside was packed with townsfolk who had come to watch the spectacle.

“What a grand gesture from the Shi family — sixty-six loads of betrothal gifts. They’ve certainly given the Yan family every honor.”

“Fifth Miss Yan is a daughter born of the principal wife. Such treatment is only fitting.”

“What a shame for that crippled Sixth Miss, though. Such a fine match, and in the end she got nothing. The poor girl must be sick with worry by now.”

“Well, if it weren’t for her disability and inability to bear children, would she have been sent back?”

“A family like the Shi family could never truly take in someone like that. Even if she had married in, she’d have lived and died in misery within a few years.”

“I wonder who in Shun Cheng would dare take the Sixth Miss now.”

“The Sixth Miss does have some talent — her poetry is well known around here. If she can’t marry into a prominent household, marrying a respectable intellectual without prejudice over social rank wouldn’t be a bad life.”

Jing Zhi had just finished buying medicine and returned to catch all this chatter. She set her jaw, pushed through the crowd, and said curtly, “Make way.”

Back in the courtyard, Yan Qing was practicing walking with Murong’s support. Her balance was still poor and her legs lacked strength — she tried several times and failed each time.

“Miss, please rest a moment. Don’t push yourself too hard.” Murong brought over a towel.

Yan Qing wiped the perspiration from her brow, her eyes bright and clear. “The process will be difficult, but more practice is what helps recovery.”

Every patient in rehabilitation endures suffering that most people could not imagine. Getting through that stage is what brings renewal.

“Jing Zhi, why do you look so aggrieved?” Murong teased.

Jing Zhi set down her medicine packet and let out an indignant breath. “It’s those gossips again, always talking about the Miss’s marriage prospects. Who the Miss ends up marrying is none of their business.”

“Their mouths are their own — there’s nothing we can do about it.” Murong had long since grown used to it. “At least the Fifth Miss will be out of the house soon, and after that she won’t be coming around to make trouble for the Miss anymore.”

Jing Zhi still couldn’t let it go. “The Madam is absolutely beaming this time around. Her daughter marrying into the Shi family as a young mistress — after this, she’ll be able to hold her head high among all the prominent ladies of Shun Cheng.”

Never mind after — even now, the threshold of the Yan Mansion was nearly worn through. People who had barely known them before were turning up in droves to deliver gifts and curry favor.

Jing Zhi muttered on, but when Yan Qing gave no reaction at all, she grew a little anxious. “Miss, how can you look so unbothered? The whole of Shun Cheng is talking about you right now, saying the Shi family sent you back and you’ll never make a good match.”

Yan Qing smiled. “Let them say whatever they like. Everyone loves a bit of gossip.”

“Miss, it’s not the rumors I’m worried about — it’s your future marriage.”

The future?

Yan Qing might once have worried about it too. But she would rather trust in Shi Ting and leave everything in his hands, while she sat back as a contented bystander. What was there to object to in that?

“All right, stop worrying about one thing just to fret over another. Tomorrow is Yan Qin’s wedding day. Let’s go see if there’s anything we can do to help.”

Jing Zhi still wasn’t fully satisfied, but she obediently said yes.

On the wedding day, the Yan Mansion was decked out in bright lanterns and festive banners before dawn. Red felt carpets were laid at the entrance, drums and music rang out in full force.

On the auspicious hour, the bridal procession arrived in a great flurry of sound — a line of grand carriages in front, followed closely by six black automobiles hung with red flowers, brilliant against the eye.

Shi Guang wore a black Chinese-style formal suit with a red-trimmed vest, a top hat tied with a red silk ribbon, surrounded by brothers and friends as he arrived at the Yan Mansion gates.

Meanwhile, in Yan Qin’s courtyard, Madam Yan was in the middle of a gentle but earnest appeal. “Qin’er, you’re about to be carried to your husband’s home. Please don’t go on weeping and sobbing — you’ll make a scene.”

“I don’t want to marry Shi Guang.” Yan Qin’s eyes were so swollen from crying that they were nearly shut. Her great red bridal robes lent her not a hint of joy. “I don’t want to marry someone I don’t love. I don’t want to leave the Yan family. I want to stay with Mother for the rest of my life.”

“You foolish child — every woman must marry someday. How can you stay home forever?” She exchanged a look with the wedding attendants, who promptly stepped forward with the red bridal veil.

“Fifth Miss, you’re going to a life of comfort. You mustn’t cry anymore — this makeup took the whole morning. If it runs, you won’t look right at all.”

Beneath the veil, Yan Qin’s shoulders still trembled, one shudder after another.

Yan Qing watched her and felt a quiet ache in her heart.

In this old-fashioned world, women’s marriages were bound by “the parents’ command and the matchmaker’s word.” They had no power to choose the one they loved. Some brides had never even seen their future husband’s face before the wedding day.

Yan Qin had her faults. But in this moment, she was pitiable — the pitiable fate of all women of this age.

“Fifth Miss, don’t cry anymore — the groom is here.”

The wedding attendants helped to comfort Yan Qin, then turned with smiles to the other young misses in the room. “Misses, please block the door — don’t let the groom in too easily. If he offers lucky money, make sure it’s a good amount before you let him through.”

The youngest, Yan Yan, was the most excited of all. “Oh yes, yes — we’ll get lucky money!”

Before long, a great commotion rose outside: the groom had arrived.

Yan Qing looked out from the window and immediately spotted that familiar figure.

He wore a long black tunic and trousers that day, standing out distinctly among all the young men around him.

As though sensing her gaze, Shi Ting glanced over in her direction.

Their eyes met softly across the distance, brimming with unspoken tenderness.

Yan Qing looked away, faintly embarrassed, and smiled quietly at the floor.

“Sixth Sister, your poetry is matchless. Quick, compose something for the groom to match,” Yan Yan suggested mischievously.

Yan Qing had no desire to exchange words with Shi Guang. She declined with a smile. “No inspiration today. I can’t think of anything.”

“All right, all right — then let me be the one to give him a hard time.”

Shi Guang was sharp-minded and answered every challenge Yan Yan and Yan Ling threw at him with ease. Not only did they fail to get any lucky money out of him, they were left with no choice but to let him in. Still, Shi Guang knew how to play the social game well — he had his attendants give all three young women a share of lucky money regardless. Yan Yan weighed her portion in her hand and tugged at Yan Qing’s sleeve with a delighted grin. “That’s at least two silver dollars in here.”

Once inside the room, the first thing Shi Guang looked at was not the bride seated at the head of the bed but Yan Qing, who was in the middle of a conversation with Yan Yan.

She was dressed in a soft pink outfit, with light makeup, radiant and luminous against all the festive red that surrounded her. If the one sitting at the head of the bed were her…

His gaze swept across her face, and a brief flicker of regret passed through his expression.

Yan Qing glanced up — and there was Shi Ting, stepping inside as well, surrounded by Shi Qian, the eldest son of the Shi family, and several of Shi Guang’s male companions.

Everyone around them was busy watching the bride and groom. No one noticed the quiet exchange of glances between the two of them. This was what it meant to speak through a look — in the most perfect sense.

—

**[Side Story]**

Eighth Brother: Come now, Seventh, if you want to marry Sixth Miss, sing Eighth Brother a round of *Under All Heaven, You Are the Most Beautiful*.

Shi Ting: I don’t know it.

Eighth Brother: Then dance a hula.

Shi Ting: I don’t know how.

Eighth Brother: Then what *do* you know?

Shi Ting pulls out his gun and presses it to Eighth Brother’s forehead. “I know this.”

Eighth Brother: Fine, fine — Eighth Brother will sing!

—