Master Yuanhui was convinced she was a demon who came to defy heaven and change fate, who would block his path, so he would stop at nothing to have her dead. But she likewise was not someone willing to meekly submit to execution. Since Master Yuanhui had already struck so ruthlessly, she would not show mercy.

No one in this world was truly innocent. Just like Madam Huang and Elder Sister Huang—they seemed to live peaceful lives uncontested with the world, but these were obtained in exchange for the lives of everyone at White River Village. If she had done wrong, she was willing to descend into the eighteenth level of hell when she became a ghost, but she wouldn’t worry now about matters of the future.

Everyone must pay the price for what they’ve done. Master Yuanhui was like this, and so was she. If there was retribution in the future, she would accept it willingly.

“Xiao Yi…” Cui Yingshu stepped forward to look at her, tinged with some worry: “Don’t go too far. I know you’re clever, but you must know there are many clever people in this world.” He paused, glanced at Song Chengru, and reminded Song Chuyi: “Just like Consort Xian—this time you’ve completely brought her down, but you’ve also drawn the bone-deep hatred of Prince Duan’s remaining faction. As long as there’s one fish that escaped the net still at large, you have one more share of danger. Uncle doesn’t want you constantly in such danger.”

In her previous life, Song Chuyi had never spent time with Cui Yingshu. She didn’t know what kind of person this uncle was. Even after living again, she felt her maternal uncle wasn’t as indulgent and doting toward her as her cousin uncle. But she knew Cui Yingshu had always been good to her. He was strict with her in many matters, not wanting her to encounter too many dark secrets, also hoping she could live without worries like all girls her age.

Never speaking evil words, never hearing evil speech—he had raised his own daughter Cui Hualuan this way, and he also hoped she could grow up sunny and healthy.

Song Jue was somewhat moved. He also didn’t want Song Chuyi pushed to the forefront of the storm, even less did he want his sister to return covered in wounds and the stench of blood like a few days ago.

He was silent for a long while but ultimately didn’t speak—he knew Song Chuyi’s temperament. Though it couldn’t be said she was petty about every small matter, she certainly had a character that required revenge for any grudge.

Song Chuyi hadn’t held the hunting grounds incident against him, but he had come after Song Chuyi again and nearly taken her life. This was something Song Chuyi absolutely could not tolerate. He knew she couldn’t possibly yield on such matters.

Sure enough, Song Chuyi immediately shook her head: “Uncle, I understand your meaning, but if I put down the butcher’s knife, that knife will fall on my neck the next moment. I cannot allow such a thing to happen. I understand all the principles you’ve stated—enemies can never all be killed, and you can’t deal with every single person who harbors ill will toward you one by one. But at least, when someone has raised a knife and placed it at my throat, I cannot pretend it never happened. This is what Master Yuanhui owes me. Since he considers himself a lofty bodhisattva bringing salvation to all living beings, he should truly be merciful like a bodhisattva. But since he treated my life like an ant’s, he shouldn’t blame me for pulling him down from his divine altar.”

Cui Yingshu could only sigh helplessly. He had never been able to do anything with this niece. He had once asked Princess Duanhui whether she felt Song Chuyi’s personality was too obsessive—distinguishing love, hate, favor, and enmity so clearly must be exhausting. But Princess Duanhui said this was because Song Chuyi had lost her mother from a young age. She had to protect her younger brother, so her heart couldn’t be soft.

He steadied himself and looked at Song Chuyi with a sigh, resignedly asking her: “Then what do you plan to do? You deliberately left traces for Master Yuanhui. If he comes to demand the people from you…”

“Naturally, I’ll negotiate terms.” Song Chuyi sneered and picked up the thread: “Master Yuanhui has stayed on his divine altar too long. I’m afraid he’s forgotten how human relationships work. When the time comes, I’ll receive him properly.”

Song Chengru had called Cui Yingshu here not solely for this matter. He nodded at Song Chuyi: “Whatever you need, tell us.”

Song Chuyi nodded. Seeing they seemed to have matters to discuss, she took her leave. That Song Chengru would summon Cui Yingshu at this time was probably because Cui Yingshu would be working with the Jiujiang River officials this year to repair the Jiujiang Dam.

Qing Ying was already waiting for her at the covered walkway. Leading her through the hanging flower gate and around the courtyard, she then pulled her aside to tell her: “Miss, I’ve already done as you asked and informed Miss Tong about Seventh Young Master Shen’s injury. Miss Tong’s relationship with Seventh Young Master Shen seems to have eased somewhat lately. Upon hearing the news, she hurriedly took people to see Seventh Young Master Shen…”

So some marriages in this world were truly jokes. Clearly Shen the Seventh utterly detested Tong Shao, yet constrained by Shen Xiaohai, by Marquis Wuning’s estate and his future prospects, he still had to curry favor with this arrogant young lady.

What mutual affection and harmony? It was clearly just an alliance between two surnames, and merely an alliance between two surnames at that.

Qing Tao also came forward to support her, tilting her head somewhat puzzled: “Miss, why did you have Miss Tong go see Seventh Young Master Shen? In my view, it would be best if their household were in complete chaos.”

It was precisely to throw the Shen household into chaos that Tong Shao—this explosive firecracker—was needed to see Shen Qingrang. With Shen Qingrang feeling guilty, how would he explain his injury to the suspicious and sensitive Tong Shao? Shen Xiaohai, that useless waste, might be incompetent at other things, but his ability to read the wind and steer accordingly was first-rate. He truly rushed toward any benefit like a fly spotting an egg, without considering his own actual worth.

Now the Shuntian Prefecture and the Imperial Guard were searching everywhere for Prince Duan’s remaining faction because of Princess Rongcheng’s assassination. At such a time, with Tong Shao brazenly bringing so many people and so much medicine to see Shen Qingrang, what would the guilt-ridden Shen Xiaohai and Shen Qingrang think? They were already timid to begin with—having the heart but not the courage of thieves, and when they did wrong, they loved shifting blame onto others.

Tong Shao was not Song Chuning. She wouldn’t receive tender consideration from Young Master Shen Qingrang. In a fit of temper, Shen Qingrang would probably quarrel with her again.

Once they quarreled like this, Shen Qingrang would have to fabricate an excuse for his injury. For this dandy who was versed in cockfighting and dog racing, what kind of excuse would be most convincing? Of course, frequenting brothels and getting into disputes, playing the hero rescuing the damsel… In any case, this excuse came readily to hand and could be fabricated even more realistically and believably.

Last time at Huangjue Temple, Song Chuyi had already noticed Tong Shao’s subtle changes. She naturally still liked Shen Qingrang, yet it wasn’t merely liking anymore. The light that had once been in her eyes when looking at Shen Qingrang was gone, replaced by countless grievances and resentments.

Sometimes a young lady’s resentment was a terrifying emotion, especially when her family background was strong enough and she had people she could use.