Chapter 2: Scheme Two

There are a thousand ways a woman can be beautiful.

The woman before her was beautiful to the bone, yet carried an aloof coldness that kneaded that beauty into frost—untouchable, undeniable. One dared not look up at her. And yet one wanted to look again.

Qin Xiang forgot to breathe for a long while, gazing at “Miss Lin.” And “Miss Lin” gazed back at her with equal tenderness, her eyes filled with the silver light of a full moon—a gentleness Qin Xiang had never seen before.

Her sister-in-law was cold at one moment, warm at the next. The two words played out perfectly on her, inseparable and harmonious.

Qin Xiang smiled in a daze. Her pressed red lips parted, leaving a faint mark.

Her sister-in-law watched her closely and raised her right hand. Qin Xiang could see it clearly: ten slender fingers, well-proportioned knuckles, nails tinged pink, trimmed immaculately—a beauty washed clean of all adornment.

That hand lifted her chin. A full arm’s length shrank to a breath’s distance. Qin Xiang froze. A medicinal fragrance curled around her nose.

Her sister-in-law leaned in. A breath away, and her heart leapt to her throat, nearly jumping out of her chest.

Long lashes lowered. Qin Xiang’s face burned as she felt that hand trace lightly over the corner of her lips.

Did her sister-in-law think she was her brother?

Qin Xiang blinked. The touch made her heart tremble and her skin tighten.

Did she want to kiss her?

She thought wildly, and somehow, her heart soared.

Suddenly, a strange scent drifted over—bitter and sharp, drowsy and numbing.

“Prime Minister, the Little Young Master has taken the antidote.” The steward’s voice was low.

Yun Qian looked at the blushing girl before her and tilted her head to inspect her—even her ears were red. “Is he still in the illusion?”

“He should be clear now,” the steward said. “He’ll sleep a few hours. Nothing serious.”

Yun Qian nodded, smiling with her lips pressed together. She instructed her subordinates, “What happened today stays within these walls. Prepare the wedding arrangements, quickly. Also, check whether there’s any movement at Lin Zhiting’s residence. And detain the guards who came with him—don’t release them until after the wedding.”

One by one, her subordinates acknowledged.

Yun Qian looked at the girl slumped in the armchair, lips pressed faintly, and ordered the maidservants, “Take the Little Son-in-Law to the guest courtyard to rest.”

Little Son-in-Law?

The maids exchanged startled glances. Had the Prime Minister just married herself off?

Yun Qian said nothing. Instead, she went to the rear courtyard to find her mother, who had not yet left.

After the stewards caught the maidservant who had drugged the tea, they detained Old Madam Yun. Old Madam Yun had remarried and abandoned Yun Qian after Yun Qian’s father died. Later, when Yun Qian entered the court, her mother came crawling back, using her status as mother to force filial support.

Yun Qian never agreed. After all, her mother had birthed three sons in her new marriage—they could support her. It was not the turn of this long-abandoned daughter.

Old Madam Yun sat in her seat, perfectly composed, feeling no guilt whatsoever.

Yun Qian entered and got straight to the point. “Father left me a marriage arrangement. The person has arrived, and I have accepted. The wedding will be soon. You need not trouble yourself, Mother.”

“Your father has been dead twenty years. Where does a marriage come from?” Old Madam Yun sneered. “A man ought to marry by twenty. Any man still unmarried at twenty-five or twenty-six must be deficient in some way. Such a person cannot be married. Listen to your mother—annul this and marry your cousin. I say this all for your own good. Don’t resent me for meddling.”

“Standing in good faith is the foundation of life. Father settled this, so of course I should accept.” Yun Qian lowered her eyes, her slender neck like a stem bent under a storm—yet unbreakable.

Old Madam Yun slammed the table in fury. “You’re deliberately defying me! Your father would never have arranged a marriage for you—you’re just making excuses to fob me off.”

“There is a marriage contract as proof.” Yun Qian produced the contract Qin Xiang had brought. “And I haven’t yet counted the matter of you drugging my tea against you. I marry the day after tomorrow. If you come, come alone—do not bring those nameless relatives of yours.”

“Marry the day after tomorrow? You’re throwing yourself at a man like a rotten cabbage nobody wants at Caishikou Execution Grounds!” Old Madam Yun’s voice rose in fury. “I am your mother. I do not consent to you marrying some unknown whelp.”

“Mother is tired. Go home.” Yun Qian stood with her hands behind her back, neither sad nor glad, dark currents surging in her deep eyes.

She turned and left. Old Madam Yun stamped her feet in a frenzy. “A-Qian, A-Qian! Your life’s happiness is so important—how can you entrust it to just anyone? A-Qian, listen to your mother! Listen to your mother!”

The maids pushed Old Madam Yun out. She refused to go quietly, shouting at the top of her lungs until the entire residence could hear her.

In the guest courtyard, Qin Xiang lay in a drugged sleep. On the table, a small copper censer breathed a thin plume of smoke, curling upward.

Qin Xiang bolted upright, staring blankly at the air. She raised her hand to the corner of her lips. Had her sister-in-law kissed her?

Had she?

She wasn’t sure. The thought had barely formed before her head spun.

Yun Qian sat beneath the window. In the shifting light, she watched the girl with hair dark as night and skin fine as jade: she woke and immediately touched her lips. Had there been a spring dream in the illusion?

Qin Xiang turned and met those lazy, gentle eyes. Her heart skipped. “S-Sister-in-Law…”

“What did you call me?” Yun Qian’s gaze sharpened, her whole bearing turning fierce.

The warm, understanding woman from her dream had become untouchable again—especially that voice, drawn out and cold, like an endless snowfall that froze the spine, made one afraid to breathe, afraid to raise one’s head.

Qin Xiang had slipped up and scared herself badly. She hastily corrected herself. “A-Yao, A-Yao.”

Her sister-in-law’s given name was Lin Yao, so calling her A-Yao was only natural.

Yun Qian didn’t press the point. “We marry the day after tomorrow. Once things settle, we’ll go to Zhenjiang.”

The day after tomorrow… Qin Xiang’s limbs went stiff with shock. “Won’t you think it over more?”

“Young Master is so beautiful. If I refused, I would surely regret it someday.” Yun Qian raised a brow, her tone lazy—and on closer listen, faintly teasing.

Qin Xiang’s beauty was something Yun Qian had seen in her past life. The girl before her had not yet fully bloomed; give her a few years, and she would reveal a look all her own.

Qin Xiang boldly looked at her. Her sister-in-law had a pair of peach-blossom eyes, inner corners slightly hooked, carrying three parts of aloofness, outer corners tilted up, adding a few shades of amusement.

Her sister-in-law was bewitchingly lovely, utterly unlike the shy, demure girls of the world. There was something more in her—the bearing of one who looked down from on high.

“The day after tomorrow… will that be enough time?” Qin Xiang’s heart stirred. Her black eyes fixed boldly on Yun Qian’s face like a nail.

Yun Qian nodded. “It’s enough. Naturally, there will be no guests—just a few people from the household. Do you like the clamor of a hall full of well-wishers?”

Qin Xiang didn’t. She was afraid of a hall full of guests. She had a guilty conscience.

Both women had secrets in their hearts, and so they agreed at once.

The date was set. Yun Qian rose, her skirt falling in flowing lines as she straightened—composed and graceful. Qin Xiang’s gaze unconsciously dropped to her waist, so slender it could be spanned by one hand.

Qin Xiang curved her lips without realizing. This was what the world called a lady of a great house—flawless from head to toe.

And such a person was going to be wasted on Qin Mo.

She couldn’t bear it.

While Qin Xiang agonized, Yun Qian left the guest courtyard.

Who wouldn’t love such an immaculate woman?

Qin Xiang was certain that even as a girl, she had fallen for her sister-in-law.

Everyone loved beauty. But her sister-in-law had more than beauty—she had… Qin Xiang lowered her lashes. Whatever she had would be destroyed by her all the same.

She lay down, limp and exhausted, consumed by regret—and yet wondering why her sister-in-law hadn’t refused the marriage.

How wonderful a refusal would have been! The capital was full of brocade-clad young men; she herself was inferior goods. Why had her sister-in-law chosen her?

Qin Xiang tossed and turned, overcome with remorse. Dazedly, she crawled up, her head swimming, and nearly fell off the bed.

How had she gotten into such an impossible situation?

She sat on the edge of the bed, touching her dry lips, her thoughts immediately drifting back: had they kissed, or hadn’t they?

In the summer heat, the maids prepared a hot bath. Qin Xiang wandered in, dazedly. Seeing that the maids wouldn’t leave, she reddened for no reason.

“Out. I can manage alone.”

The Little Son-in-Law’s voice was soft and thin, like a glutinous rice ball. The maids glanced at “him”—rosy lips, white teeth, fair skin. Very handsome.

They obediently withdrew. Qin Xiang sighed and stepped into the water. She couldn’t annul the engagement, and she couldn’t harm her sister-in-law.

This matter was going to be the death of her.

She came out of the water to find her sister-in-law sitting by the meal table, waiting to have dinner together.

Qin Xiang: “…” Why is she here again?

Three meetings a day, each one scorching her heart and draining her strength, like being roasted over a rack of firewood.

It was unbearable.

Qin Xiang sat down and noticed that her sister-in-law sat perfectly straight, waist and shoulders in one line. She sighed. In upbringing, she and her sister-in-law were worlds apart.

She had no choice but to square her shoulders too, straining to match her sister-in-law’s poise.

Yun Qian pretended not to notice the girl’s fidgeting. This Little Empress knew nothing yet, untouched by the world, her only concern her brother’s marriage.

Pity that she couldn’t see, couldn’t hear, couldn’t think straight—and had walked through the wrong door.

Yun Qian curved her lips. Compared to the Empress who would one day throw the court into chaos, she far preferred this gullible young Miss Qin.

No—Young Master Qin.

“A-Yao, what are you smiling at?” Qin Xiang asked in confusion.

Caught smiling to herself, Yun Qian met the Little Young Master’s clear, clean gaze and lied through her teeth: “Young Master Qin’s looks please me well.”

Mm, a little improper—but pleasant to hear.

Qin Xiang laughed too, her eyes sly, full of youthful innocence and delight.

The girl before her, even in a Scholar’s Robe, didn’t look the part. She looked instead like a young gentleman married into the family—not daring to breathe loud, agreeing to everything.

Perhaps because she had the upper hand, some mortal warmth slipped into Yun Qian. She propped her cheek on her hand and watched Qin Xiang, her little finger tapping lightly against her chin.

Qin Xiang was driven to distraction by the gesture. She thought: please be proper, who can stand this?

She silently lowered her head and ate, refusing to look at her.

“Young Master Qin, do you have concubines at home?” Yun Qian asked abruptly.

Qin Xiang felt as if struck by lightning—and in the flash, she found a reason to annul. She answered frankly, “Yes. Many.”

“Not a problem. After we marry, we’ll send them all away.” Yun Qian waved a hand lightly, without a trace of jealousy.

Qin Xiang’s eyes went wide, her brow furrowing. Her sister-in-law hadn’t heard clearly. She repeated, “Many, many concubines.”

Yun Qian repeated in kind, “One and all—sent away.”