At Jing Zhi’s words, it came back to Yan Qing.

She did indeed have a marriage pact with the Shi Family — one arranged personally by Master Yan himself.

Master Yan had always worried about her. She had been disabled since childhood, with a quiet and withdrawn temperament, and he feared she would never find a good match. From the time she was twelve or thirteen, he had been fretting over her marriage prospects.

Three years ago, an opportunity had presented itself. The General had needed a favor from Master Yan over the matter of military pay. Master Yan had seized the moment and arranged a marriage between the two families. If she recalled correctly, the man she was to marry was the second son of the Shi Family — Shi Guang, a man she had never met.

“Fifth Miss isn’t just jealous that the master favors you — she’s also jealous that you’re marrying into the Shi Family, which is why she keeps making trouble for you.” Jing Zhi snorted. “What can she do? Our miss is just that fortunate.”

Was marrying into the Shi Family really such good fortune? Yan Qing didn’t think so. To her, an arranged marriage without love as its foundation was nothing but a shackle — a cage she could never escape for the rest of her life.

And what about her and Shen Liang? Had there been any foundation of love between them? Before, she might have thought so. But looking back now, she had simply been too young to understand love. And what was love, anyway?

“Who said she was jealous?” A sharp, shrieking voice yanked Yan Qing out of her thoughts. Yan Qin appeared in a gaudy pink low-collar fitted top and a matching A-line skirt, her white leather shoes stamping out her displeasure and fury against the floor.

Jing Zhi startled and quickly lowered her head, not daring to look at her.

“You lowly little maid — who taught you to gossip about your betters behind their backs? You’re asking for a beating.” Yan Qin planted her hands on her hips and ordered the maidservant beside her: “Slap her across the mouth.”

Qing Tian, emboldened by Yan Qin’s status as a legitimate daughter, stepped forward two paces until she stood in front of Jing Zhi, raising her hand to strike.

“Stop.” The voice was quiet and light, but carried authority without anger. A pair of elegant eyes flashed with a cold glint.

Qing Tian’s raised hand froze rigidly in mid-air, unable to come down.

“What are you afraid of her for? She’s nothing but a cripple. Hit her.” Yan Qin screeched, showing not the slightest regard for Yan Qing.

With her mistress egging her on, Qing Tian swung her palm hard toward its target. Jing Zhi instinctively squeezed her eyes shut, bracing herself. She had endured this kind of abuse before — she had grown used to it.

“Murong.”

Two simple words fell from Yan Qing’s lips like a pair of scissors, snipping through the thread of restraint Murong had been holding tightly.

Murong raised her arm and blocked Qing Tian’s hand, her eyes fierce and unyielding. “Our miss told you to stop. Did you not hear her?”

“You dare defy me? You dare?” Yan Qin was like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. “Hit her — beat that shameless wretch to death!”

But Qing Tian was no match for Murong. Her wrist was seized as if clamped in iron, completely unable to move.

“Miss.” Murong looked to Yan Qing.

Yan Qing raised one delicate brow. “Screaming and shouting in front of your elder — that is disrespect. Jing Zhi is my maidservant; no one but me has the right to lay a hand on her. You came in here swinging — that is arrogance. Therefore… throw her out.”

“Yes, Miss.” Murong gave a low laugh, grabbed Qing Tian by the wrist, and dragged her to the doorway. Before Qing Tian could react, she had been flung into the courtyard like a piece of rubbish.

Hearing Qing Tian’s cry of pain, Yan Qin stamped her feet in fury. “Just you wait, you wretched cripple — I’m going to tell my mother, and she’ll come and deal with you.”

Yan Qing lightly tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, meeting Yan Qin’s livid gaze. “In that case, I suppose I’ll have to tell Father — shall I mention that you called me a wretched cripple?”

Everyone in the household knew that the word “cripple” was forbidden in the Yan Family. Master Yan would never tolerate it being said, especially in front of Sixth Miss.

—