Chapter 17: Bloodstains: Self-Awareness

The voice was like gravel sinking into a swamp, without any echo. If not for the candlelight casting Wang Jinlan’s silhouette onto the window paper, Mama Zhang would have doubted whether there was anyone in the main room at all.

It was truly strange. The Madam had clearly ordered her to wait at the gate for the Heir Apparent’s return to the mansion, yet now that the Heir Apparent had arrived, the Madam was avoiding her instead?

Zhao Huairen called into the room, “Mother.”

After a long while with no response, Mama Zhang’s eyelids twitched. She made excuses for her mistress. “Heir Apparent, the Madam… perhaps she didn’t hear clearly?”

“Mother summoned me, so she must have already heard about the commotion at Myriad Treasures Pavilion tonight.”

The fingers toying with the agarwood prayer beads suddenly paused after those words.

Wang Jinlan sat upright on the soft couch, her expression calm. “So you still have some self-awareness. Do you know your mistake?”

“As the Vice Minister of Dali Temple, what I did tonight was merely carrying out an imperial order to investigate the case.”

A sharp glint flashed in her eyes. She set down the agarwood prayer beads, and Wang Jinlan sneered coldly. “What a Vice Minister of Dali Temple. Vice Minister, are you now using your official position to pressure me?”

“I wouldn’t dare.” Zhao Huairen lowered her head in response.

Mama Zhang was long accustomed to the sharp exchanges between mother and child. She glanced at the silhouette in the room and lowered her voice. “Heir Apparent, the Madam is truly angry this time. You should yield a little first.”

She had known her mother would take issue with this.

But she had to do it. She had no choice.

The determination in her eyes did not fade in the slightest from Mama Zhang’s persuasion. Frost settled on her shoulders, yet Zhao Huairen waited quietly outside the door.

“Heir Apparent, just heed this old servant’s advice…”

“No need to waste words with her.” Wang Jinlan pulled open the door and stepped out from the room, though her gaze did not fall on Zhao Huairen standing at the entrance. “In the Vice Minister’s eyes, where is there room for a mother like me?”

At those words, Mama Zhang’s eyes trembled: The charge of filial impiety—those were heavy words from the Madam.

A trace of obscurity passed through her light brown eyes. Zhao Huairen said nothing and silently knelt before the door.

“Look at her like this!” Her temples throbbed faintly. The dignified and proper matriarch of the household turned her head toward the maid standing guard in the courtyard and shouted angrily, “Go, quickly fetch the family law.”

“Madam, the Heir Apparent surely knows his mistake.”

Mama Zhang knelt beside Zhao Huairen and quietly tugged at her sleeve, urging in a low voice, “Heir Apparent, say some soft words quickly.”

Zhao Huairen brushed away Mama Zhang’s hand. Her eyes were like a dead sea without a ripple as she spoke evenly, “If Mother thinks I was wrong, then punish me.”

Hearing this, Mama Zhang shook her head helplessly.

The Heir Apparent’s stubborn temper…

She truly didn’t know whose it was…

“Fine, even now you refuse to admit your wrong.” Wang Jinlan looked at the fearless Zhao Huairen, the pent-up fury in her heart igniting in an instant. She raised her voice. “Yu Qiu, can I no longer command you? Go fetch the family law now.”

Seeing the matriarch in a thunderous rage, Yu Qiu dared not delay any longer and turned to head toward the ancestral hall.

…

Before the grand master’s chair, Zhao Huairen knelt ramrod straight.

Time had dimmed the light in the beauty’s eyes. Her hands overlapped on her knees as Wang Jinlan coldly regarded her kneeling daughter.

“My words have always been like wind passing by your ears. Do you not know who stands behind Xu Yan?” Her voice held suppressed anger, and Wang Jinlan’s fingertips trembled slightly. “Why wade into this muddy water?”

“It is my duty.” Zhao Huairen pressed her lips together.

“Duty?” Wang Jinlan mulled over the two words, her gaze like a cold knife. “I think you’ve forgotten your lesson and believe your mother can no longer control you. Someone come!”

She glanced at Mama Zhang guarding the door.

Holding a wooden box, Yu Qiu entered the room trembling.

The box was entirely dark red, its corners wrapped in faded copper sheeting, appearing quite ancient.

Her long lashes cast faint shadows beneath her eyes. Zhao Huairen kept her head lowered, gazing at her blurred reflection on the green brick floor.

“Madam.” Yu Qiu stepped forward.

Wang Jinlan rose, reaching to open the wooden box, but Yu Qiu suddenly shrank back. “Madam, the wedding is approaching. If the Heir Apparent is injured…”

Her gaze complexly swept over Zhao Huairen. Thinking of something, her resolve hardened, and Wang Jinlan did not hesitate in her actions.

The entirely black iron ruler.

About two feet long and one inch wide, it gleamed with a chilling light.

“All of you, out.” Clutching the iron ruler, Wang Jinlan’s face tightened. “Close the door. No one is to remain in the courtyard.”

Soon, only mother and daughter remained in the main room.

“Do you know what kind of disaster your actions today will bring upon Duke Rui’s Mansion?”

Zhao Huairen raised her eyes slightly. “I have already had Xu Yan transferred to the Ministry of Punishment. This matter has nothing to do with Dali Temple, and even less with Duke Rui’s Mansion.”

“Then why did you get involved?”

Zhao Huairen pressed her lips together and lowered her eyes.

A mother knew her daughter best. From Zhao Huairen’s reaction, Wang Jinlan could tell her true intentions went beyond that. Her brows furrowed tighter, her voice steady and forceful. “Twenty strokes. Remember today’s lesson.”

“Yes.” Zhao Huairen turned around.

Wang Jinlan gripped the icy iron ruler and closed her eyes briefly.

The sound of the iron ruler slicing through the air rang out abruptly. The first stroke landed heavily on her back, like being seared by a red-hot branding iron. The burning pain instantly spread from her spine, and Zhao Huairen silently clenched her fists.

Pa. Another stroke.

Born to a military family, Wang Jinlan’s hand was steady. Each stroke landed solidly on Zhao Huairen.

Without looking, Zhao Huairen could feel her back swelling up.

“Do you know your mistake?”

Cold sweat beaded on her smooth forehead, trickling down her cheeks to the floor. Not only did she not admit fault, Zhao Huairen didn’t even let out a grunt.

“What duty? You can fool others, but not me. What exactly are you trying to do!” Her palm numbed from the ruler’s recoil, and Wang Jinlan’s voice carried fear of the unknown. “Wasn’t harming Huai Jin to death enough back then? Now you want the entire Duke Mansion to bury with you!”

Her light brown pupils scattered imperceptibly for an instant.

“Why enter Dali Temple? Mother clearly paved the way for you. Why must a woman place herself amid swords and blades?”

Zhao Huairen’s vision blurred somewhat. “Mother, next month I will take a wife.”

Yes…

Her daughter was taking a wife next month.

Wang Jinlan seemed to suddenly awaken, her gaze dazed as she murmured, “Huairen, are you resenting me?”

“Living in this world as an elder brother was my willing choice.” Zhao Huairen’s lips were pale, but her pupils shone startlingly bright. She said softly, “Mother, I should atone for my sins.”

“Atonement? You were still young then—no one would blame you—”

“Doesn’t Mother hate me?”

Meeting her daughter’s gaze that seemed to pierce the heart, the fingers gripping the iron ruler whitened with force. Wang Jinlan’s eyes flickered away.

Zhao Huairen lowered her eyes, as if the earlier question had been some illusion. “Mother, eleven strokes remain.”

The room fell quiet for a moment.

Then, the dull sound of the iron ruler striking flesh rang out once more.

As the strokes continued, bloodstains seeped out, mottling the cloud satin. Her body trembled uncontrollably, but Zhao Huairen still knelt straight.

Exactly twenty strokes finished—

Her wrist ached bitterly from gripping the ruler.

Wang Jinlan turned her face away, not looking at her, her neck taut. “Kneel in the wind for an hour and reflect properly.”

“Yes.” Zhao Huairen replied softly.

Her vision blackened.

Supporting herself on the floor tiles, she slowly stood.

The cold wind howled through the courtyard. Each step tugged at the wounds on her back. Zhao Huairen pressed her lips tight, refusing to make a sound.

Not long after Zhao Huairen left.

With a clang, the iron ruler fell from Wang Jinlan’s hand.