It was early spring. In Luoying Residence, a red plum tree bloomed silently in the corner of the wall, sending wisps of subtle fragrance on the wind.

Wen Hao slowly swept her gaze over the familiar yet strange courtyard, her heart filled with bitterness.

Elder Sister’s given name contained the character Chan, and she lived in Jiaoyue Residence, taking the meaning from “I only wish we could live long and share the beautiful moon though a thousand miles apart.” Her own given name contained the character Hao, and she lived in Luoying Residence, taking the meaning of “flowers in bloom, moon full and round.”

Mother had always thought this was her life with Father, never knowing it was a beautiful dream lasting twenty years.

When the dream ended, it would be a ten-thousand-zhang abyss.

“Second Sister, what do you want to tell me?” After entering the room, Wen Chan sat down casually. She took the tea offered by a maidservant and handed it to Wen Hao first before holding a cup in her own hands.

Over the years, her younger sister’s innate deficiency made the elder sister unable to help caring for her more, which was also why Wen Hao trusted Wen Chan so much.

“Baozhu, go outside and guard the door.”

The maidservant who had served tea had already withdrawn. Only one round-faced maidservant remained in the room. Hearing this, she silently withdrew.

Everyone in Wen Mansion knew that Second Miss only allowed the maidservant Baozhu to attend her closely. Other maids and servants were not ordinarily permitted to approach Second Miss.

The servants in Wen Mansion privately discussed that Second Miss was born mute, which was why she was so strange. They just didn’t know how Baozhu, a not-very-bright maid, had won Second Miss’s favor.

Seeing her younger sister send even Baozhu out, Wen Chan grew increasingly curious.

“Elder Sister—” Wen Hao’s hands holding the teacup tightened as she deliberated over her wording.

A hand reached over and gently patted her wrist.

“If Second Sister has something to say, just say it. Must you be so formal with your elder sister?”

Wen Hao set down the teacup and stared fixedly at Wen Chan, two lines of clear tears falling.

Wen Chan was startled: “Second Sister, what’s wrong?”

“Elder Sister, Father has kept a mistress.”

The sound of a teacup falling to the floor came. Wen Chan’s face was full of disbelief: “Second Sister, you’re not running a fever and talking nonsense, are you?”

Wen Hao avoided Wen Chan’s hand reaching over to feel her forehead. Her tears fell continuously like pearls broken from their string: “If only I were truly running a fever and talking nonsense. Father hasn’t just kept a mistress—he also has a son and daughter. The son is called Chang Hui, the daughter is called Chang Qing. Both took their birth mother’s surname…”

Having experienced those hardships, she had long grown tired of crying. It was just that many times, crying was still necessary.

These words pounded Wen Chan’s head, making it buzz. But hearing her younger sister even state the names of the mistress’s children—even if she couldn’t imagine Father would do such a thing—she couldn’t help believing it somewhat.

“Second Sister, you… how did you come to know this?” Wen Chan’s heart was in chaos. For the moment, she didn’t know whether she should believe it.

“I ran into them by chance on the street. At first I didn’t dare believe it, so I secretly followed them for some time. I could no longer deceive myself.” Wen Hao collected her tears, mockery hanging at the corners of her lips. “Elder Sister, do you know? Chang Hui is even older than you.”

Wen Chan’s expression shook, her complexion growing increasingly ugly.

Even older than her—thinking of what this meant, blood rushed to her head.

“Second Sister, could it be that you—”

Wen Hao lowered her eyes, interrupting Wen Chan’s words: “Elder Sister, don’t ask if I misunderstood. Though younger sister couldn’t speak before, my eyes were good, my ears were good, and my mind was good.”

Wen Chan braced her hands on the table surface, unable to regain her calm. Only after a long while did she ask in a rough voice: “They… where do they live?”

“Mahua Alley in Ruyi Ward.” Wen Hao gave an address without hesitation.

With the names and address, Wen Chan believed it somewhat more, murmuring: “That place is right on Father’s route to and from the yamen…”

Wen Hao grasped her hand: “Elder Sister, go and see for yourself, but don’t alert them. After we confirm it, we can solve Mother’s crisis together.”

Wen Chan nodded her head.

At this moment, to have her speak pretty words saying she completely believed her younger sister—she couldn’t say them.

Wen Chan had no heart to remain longer and hurriedly left.

The tea placed on the table had already gone cold. The teacup that fell to the ground had shattered into pieces, tea water flowing everywhere.

Wen Hao leaned against the head of the bed and sat quietly for a moment before calling out: “Baozhu.”

The round-faced maidservant hurried in. She glanced at the broken porcelain on the floor but didn’t presumptuously clean it up immediately. Her dark eyes were full of joy: “What are Miss’s instructions?”

Wen Hao curved her lips in a smile: “Baozhu looks very happy.”

Baozhu grinned: “Miss’s voice sounds really nice.”

“Does it?” Wen Hao extended her hand and gently pinched Baozhu’s plump cheeks. “I think so too.”

In this world, the only person who believed her words without any discount was Baozhu.

Baozhu had originally been a kitchen maid tending the fires at the General’s Mansion. When she was young, her personal maidservants had been changed one after another. The only one she personally selected and kept by her side all along was Baozhu.

What the servants of Wen Mansion found most puzzling was why Second Miss had chosen a kitchen maid from her maternal grandfather’s household for close personal service and bestowed upon her the name Baozhu.

But to Wen Hao, this maidservant she personally selected truly lived up to the name Baozhu—Precious Pearl.

No one knew that Second Miss Wen, who could not speak, possessed a peculiarity—she could occasionally sense the thoughts in the hearts of people with whom she shared no blood relation.

Serving a master who couldn’t speak, even if a maidservant had no malicious thoughts, she would inevitably have complaints in her heart.

Wen Hao was young at that time. After sensing these things, she was unwilling to let those maids get close again, until she discovered Baozhu.

She had only ever heard one thought from Baozhu’s heart: Miss is really beautiful.

Who wouldn’t like such a Baozhu?

Wait a moment—Wen Hao belatedly realized a problem.

From falling off the wall until now, she seemed to have stopped hearing those chaotic voices.

From Prince Jing’s Mansion to the General’s Mansion to Wen Mansion, she had encountered so many people. There was no reason she wouldn’t have heard them even once.

Why?

Was it coincidence, or—her slender fingers touched her slightly cool lips. Wen Hao’s heart gave a start.

Was it because she could speak now?

Or rather, in her previous life, it was precisely because of her peculiarity that she couldn’t speak.

Wen Hao bit her lip and couldn’t help smiling.

If this was the price she paid for being able to speak, then it was truly wonderful.

To her, this wasn’t paying a price but liberation.

“Baozhu, bring writing materials. I’ll write a list, and you can go shopping according to it tomorrow.”

The sky grew later. Wen Hao changed her clothes and leaned against the head of the bed, calculating the matters she needed to do.

Actually, she didn’t need to think much. It was nothing more than taking revenge where revenge was due and repaying kindness where kindness was due.

Those who had harmed her and her relatives—she would seek justice from them one by one. Those who had helped her—she would do her utmost to repay them.

In Wen Hao’s mind floated a pair of beautiful eyes.

The wind had been very strong, the snow very cold. He had shielded her beneath him, yet she felt that embrace was very warm.

It was their hot blood mingling together, giving her, who died with hatred, that last bit of warmth.

Thinking carefully now, that person had already been injured before blocking the flying blade for her. Very likely, like her, he had been in crisis at that time.

That person used his flesh and blood to block blades for her. Although she still died, she owed him this debt of gratitude. It was a pity she hadn’t seen that person’s face. If she wanted to discover the other party’s identity, she could only take it slowly.

The exhaustion brought by returning from death caused Wen Hao to unknowingly fall into slumber.

Early the next morning, Wen Chan quietly left the mansion, and Baozhu also went out.

On Prince Jing’s Mansion’s side, Princess Jing had just finished her morning meal when a maidservant reported that the Heir had come.