Yan Sanhe waited until the hot water slowly cooled before rising to wash up.

After washing away the dust of travel, she hugged her bundle to her chest, curled up her legs while sitting in the chair, and slowly closed her eyes.

As drowsiness overtook her, she entered dreamland.

In her dreams, it was still Yan Hang.

Yan Hang teaching her to read, telling her tales of wonders from the five lakes and four seas, brewing peach blossom wine for her from Peach Blossom Pool…

The dream wasn’t long.

When Yan Sanhe woke, she discovered she had only slept for two hours.

After staring blankly for a while, she set down the bundle in her arms, tiptoed to the window, and silently pushed open one of the shutters.

“!”

Yan Sanhe’s pupils dilated abruptly.

In the courtyard, seven or eight guards had appeared at some unknown time.

These guards held blades in their arms, huddled under the eaves, eyes closed as they dozed.

They’d even prepared blades?

Yan Sanhe sneered silently.

…

Steward Xie had matters weighing on his heart and didn’t sleep soundly all night.

Enduring until dawn broke faintly, he dressed and washed up. Thinking that his master had slept in the study last night, he planned to go check on the study first.

Just reaching the courtyard gate, his foot not yet crossed the threshold, he looked up and caught sight of a person’s back by surprise.

Steward Xie nearly went mad.

How could she be here?

“You stop right there!”

Yan Sanhe hadn’t expected Steward Xie to come at this time either.

The Xie residence was too large—groping her way to Xie Daozhi’s study had delayed her considerably.

Turning around, eyebrows slightly raised, Yan Sanhe’s face showed not the slightest embarrassment at being caught.

Steward Xie glared at her viciously. “Miss Yan, this is not a place you’re permitted to be. If you want silver, follow me!”

Yan Sanhe curved her lips. Not only did she not follow, she strode toward the study instead.

Steward Xie felt all the hair on his body stand on end and rushed over to grab her.

Just as he seized one arm, he felt a sharp pain in his knee. Before he could see what had happened, he had already dropped to his knees with a thump.

“Yan Sanhe!”

Steward Xie cursed through the pain. “You’d better not refuse a toast only to be forced to drink a forfeit!”

“So early in the morning—who does Steward Xie want to force to drink a forfeit?”

A gentle voice rang out at the courtyard gate. A man walked in wearing a sky-blue straight robe, his entire person like a bright clear moon.

Yan Sanhe lifted her eyelids. Her gaze swept over briefly before withdrawing.

But that man’s gaze remained on Yan Sanhe.

He had never seen this young lady before—which family was she from?

“So early in the morning, why has Young Master come?” Steward Xie struggled to his feet and rushed over to Xie Erli.

“I heard Father rested in the study yesterday, so I came to check on him.”

Xie Erli pondered for a moment. “This person is…”

Steward Xie was so anxious that cold sweat emerged.

On one side was his master’s instructions; on the other was the eldest son and eldest grandson, the future head of the Xie household. He couldn’t afford to offend either side.

His mind working quickly, he hurriedly said: “A distant relative coming to cadge—thinks the silver from yesterday wasn’t enough. Young Master needn’t concern himself. Just leave it to this old servant to handle.”

Xie Erli looked at Yan Sanhe suspiciously. “Miss, if you feel the silver is still insufficient, you may speak to me.”

“I have nothing to discuss with you.”

Yan Sanhe had no time to waste. She turned around, facing the study door.

“Xie Daozhi, your birth father did indeed die of illness when you were one and a half years old. But four years later, your mother…”

The door whipped open with a whoosh.

Xie Daozhi’s face radiated a deathly cold murderous aura.

“Someone come! This woman slanders a noble lady of the court, her mouth full of nonsensical accusations. Bind her for me.”

“You don’t even dare let me finish speaking—what are you afraid of?”

Yan Sanhe’s brows and eyes suddenly sharpened, her tone containing a cold hardness that made others hesitate to act rashly.

“Your mother’s surname was Yang, her given name a single character, Hui. Born on the ninth day of the first month. In the early years of the Yonghe era, she married as second wife to Yan Hang, a renowned scholar of Shuidong in Anhui Prefecture. She was twenty-five years old at the time. Yan Hang is your stepfather.”

Yan Sanhe unfolded the yellowed document in her hand.

“This marriage agreement document states it clearly—black characters on white paper. What more do you have to say?”

Xie Daozhi felt a buzzing sound at his temples. He could hear nothing else.

His aged face turned frighteningly pale.