That embroidered shoe landed precisely on the back of Shen Qingrang’s head before falling heavily to the ground. Following the trajectory of the embroidered shoe, everyone looked over to see Miss Tong limping toward Shen Qingrang in furious pursuit.

The group hadn’t expected such a sudden turn of events and couldn’t help but widen their eyes. Even Cui Huaying’s well-experienced tutor nanny couldn’t help but open her mouth. Her lips moved as if wanting to say something, but not a single word came out.

Today, Duke Yingguo’s household also had a young lady who had been enfeoffed as a princess to accompany the Ninth Princess in the political marriage to Dongying. Who would have thought that shortly after seeing the person off, the princess’s own sister-in-law would cause such a scene at Huangjue Temple? Duke Yingguo’s household was indeed as the rumors outside said—already in complete chaos with chickens flying and dogs jumping.

Shen Qingrang had several bright red scratch marks on his neck and face that were oozing blood. In such freezing weather, he couldn’t even feel the pain. Only when his hair was grabbed by Tong Shao and yanked backward, forcing him to stumble before he could stand steady, did he truly come to his senses. He looked at Tong Shao with disgust and disdain, touched the back of his head, and forcefully flung his sleeve, sending the relentless Tong Shao stumbling backward several steps before he quickly ran off.

Tong Shao had only a sock boot on one foot. Stepping on the ground, she couldn’t even feel the cold. She stared blankly at Shen Qingrang’s retreating figure for a long while, then covered her face and began crying loudly where she stood.

Xiang Mingzi sighed and reached out to tug Song Chuyi’s hand: “We should leave first.” As for what kind of person this Miss Tong was, they had recently all gained insight. Encountering someone who liked to throw tantrums and make scenes, they would suffer losses no matter what.

Song Chuyi had just nodded when Tong Shao suddenly pounced toward them like an eagle swooping on chicks. While wailing, she still had the energy to curse a string of unbearable words: “Little hussy!”

Nanny Xu and the Cui family’s nanny blocked in front of Song Chuyi with stern faces, unhesitatingly restraining Miss Tong. With a slight hint of impatience but neither servile nor overbearing, she gently pushed Miss Tong backward: “Miss, please conduct yourself with dignity.”

Tong Shao stood there dazed, like a plucked hen. Her entire spirit seemed to have been exhausted in just this short time. Conduct herself with dignity—these two words stabbed into her heart like a knife, sharp and cutting, almost making her unable to stand.

She finally knew the taste of regret. She had originally thought she had sufficient and unlimited love for Shen Qingrang, that this love would be enough to support her and Shen Qingrang in loving each other through this life. But in less than half a year, all her enthusiasm had already been worn away by Shen Qingrang’s indifference.

Cui Huayi held Song Chuyi’s arm as they turned and walked away. While walking, she couldn’t help but sigh: “What’s the use of scheming so hard to marry him? The engagement has just been set, they haven’t even married yet, and they’re already at each other’s throats like fighting roosters.”

Song Chuyi didn’t look back. Shen Qingrang’s haggardness and Tong Shao’s arrogance no longer had anything to do with her.

Life was like this—you reap what you sow. Whether it was power and dowry or true feelings and sincerity, there was no right or wrong in what you chose. But you couldn’t have everything. The most important thing was: once you chose, don’t regret it.

Once you regretted, you had already lost this life.

The younger Lady Fan didn’t join those madams in going to Huangjue Temple to participate in this excitement. She had already worshipped Buddha for nearly twenty years, but she had fallen into a sea of suffering and endured hardships, and in the end never saw Buddha come to rescue her or pull her out of this bitter sea.

At this moment, she was sitting anxiously in an elegant chamber on the second floor of Chongyin Workshop. Her whole person was like a tightly drawn bowstring, so nervous she could barely hold the teacup in her hands—just after descending from Babao Mountain, she had been preparing to find Sixth Miss Song to talk when a girl dressed as a maid bumped into her and passed her a note. At the time, with people coming and going and countless maids from various households serving, she had no idea who had passed it to her. But the moment she opened it, she was completely stunned—no matter how distant she and Han Zhi were, she could still recognize this as Han Zhi’s own handwriting.

She couldn’t clearly say whether it was more excitement or agitation that rose in her heart at that moment. She had restrained herself to the utmost without showing any abnormality, and went straight to this street-facing elegant chamber on the second floor of Chongyin Workshop as the letter instructed.

Not knowing how much time had passed, she finally heard the creak of her door amidst the din from all around. Her whole person immediately couldn’t help but spring up from her seat, staring unblinkingly at the person entering.

She only looked once before her eyes stung, and uncontrollably tears and mucus covered her face.

Han Zhi didn’t like his mother. Even at this moment, he originally hadn’t thought of coming to find the younger Lady Fan. But for some reason, when he mixed in the crowd watching the younger Lady Fan who had almost cried herself to death, he vaguely felt some heartache—perhaps there really was such a thing as blood being thicker than water in this world. Just like in the end, the aunt he had relied upon was actually the mastermind who truly wanted him dead, while the mother who had always been indifferent to him still remembered to exchange some banknotes for him and told Guan Hai to tell him to flee quickly.

The younger Lady Fan’s hands were already sweating, sticky in her palms in an uncomfortable dampness, but at this moment she couldn’t sense anything. She swallowed several times with difficulty before she could swallow down her choking and grief, barely pulling her expression into something resembling a smile: “You… you’re alright.”

Knowing Han Zhi was fine, after the joy came more fright and fear. The younger Lady Fan immediately felt her heart pounding like a drum. Not waiting for Han Zhi to say anything, she rushed forward and grabbed Han Zhi’s wrist, stuttering as she told him to leave: “You absolutely must not go find your aunt again. This time when something happened to you… your aunt is implicated. They won’t help you. If they know you’re still alive, if they know you’re still alive…” She widened her eyes, her face full of terror and lingering fear.

Han Zhi hadn’t had time to speak when he was shocked by the younger Lady Fan’s words—in his eyes, the younger Lady Fan had always been even more like his aunt’s puppet than he was, almost as if his aunt told her to do something and she had to do it, as if she never had her own thoughts. But now, the younger Lady Fan stood before him, rightfully reminding him not to go seek the elder Lady Fan’s help.

He narrowed his eyes and stood before the younger Lady Fan, his eyes and brows revealing coldness and gloom: “How do you know it was her who harmed me? What else do you know?”

The younger Lady Fan clutched his arm. For the first time, the joy of not being shaken off still surged in her heart. Hearing this, she lowered her eyelids. After a long while, she laughed lowly once. This laugh contained both helplessness and resignation, but more so mockery, making those who heard it feel heartache.

Then Han Zhi heard her voice sigh lowly: “How could I not know? From the day she and I came to the capital together, she has never extinguished the thought of wanting me dead.”