“I heard about those girls,” someone whispered. “The way they died — it was awful. They were beaten to death. Not just lashes from a whip, but bruises from clubs… even scars from a branding iron.”
“Tsk, tsk. Terrible way to go. So pitiful.” Shen Li adopted a look of mock sympathy and let her voice soften. “And those poor girls — blooming young, ruined by some poisoner. Who could have done this? Maybe they died with wrongs in their hearts and came back as vengeful spirits to hunt down their killer.”
“Enough of that!” Lord Ji snapped. He glared at Shen Li with a fury so cold it showed in his clenched teeth; his eyes were the kind that promised instant retribution.
Compared with Lord Ji’s barely contained rage, Shen Li seemed unaffected, as if nothing she’d said mattered.
“Lord Ji, calm yourself. Please, calm down—”
“Shen Li, shut your mouth. Don’t spout lies in my house,” Shen Junming barked, trying to smooth things for Lord Ji then immediately turning his anger back on Shen Li.
“Lord Ji, surely what I just said isn’t a lie. I only repeated what I’ve heard in the streets. If you doubt me, go ask about your own reputation out there — you’ll hear it for yourself.” Shen Li kept proding, watching Lord Ji’s expression like a cat watching a rattling snake.
She found Shen Junming’s sour look amusing and kept speaking. “Uncle, you heard me. You know what kind of man Lord Ji is. If you still insist on marrying our third sister to him, don’t blame me for not sparing anyone’s feelings.”
“Spare feelings?” Shen Junming flung his sleeve and sank into a nearby chair. “Shen Li, when have you ever treated me like an elder? You show no respect, no decorum. How did the Shen household end up with someone like you?”
“Heh. Uncle, what defines ‘respect’? And which rules are you so intent on following?” Shen Li’s tone was light, almost teasing. “You know perfectly well what you’re thinking; there’s no need for me to repeat it. As for old grudges between us — we could tally them forever. Today, however, we have something more urgent.”
“As for those old grievances, we can settle them later.”
Concubine Su’s fingers tightened on Shen Zhen’s hand; she squeezed until the girl winced. Shen Li drew the betrothal papers from her sleeve and opened them, pressing them into Shen Zhen’s hands.
“Even if this marriage was arranged by parents,” Shen Li said quietly, “it’s still my third sister’s life we’re talking about. We should at least hear what she wants.”
Shen Zhen looked at the paper and broke down. Tears spilled freely — this contract she’d been forced to sign had brought her nothing but humiliation. Anger and a small, surprised strength rose in her all at once. Without even wiping her cheeks she faced Shen Junming.
“I won’t marry him,” she said. “I don’t want to.”
The older man had not expected the meekest girl in the household to speak up. Anger made his newly sprouting beard bristle. “How dare you! There’s no place for you to decide such things. Shut up and go sit over there!”
His roar crushed the courage she had just found; Shen Zhen’s shoulders slumped and she fell silent.
Concubine Su stepped forward, voice urgent and pleading. “Master, she was deceived into signing this. She’s young — she can’t see through schemes like that. Someone tricked her.”
Shen Junming’s face darkened. “Nonsense. Deceived? Did anyone hold a knife to her and force her to sign?”
“Hmph. Second Miss’s plotting is more dangerous than any blade — it puts people on edge just to look at her plans.” Concubine Su, desperate for Shen Zhen, didn’t bother hiding her contempt for Shen Miao. Having been revealed in public, Shen Miao’s face went pale; she had planned for this marriage for so long and now, so close to winning, Shen Li had stepped in and spoiled everything. She glared at Shen Li with barely concealed hatred.
Shen Li ignored her. Her eyes were fixed on Lord Ji again.
“Lord Ji,” she said, “you heard it yourself. Our Third Miss does not want to marry you. And as for this contract — it’s the work of schemers. Tell me honestly: do you still want to go through with this marriage?”
“Call it off?” Lord Ji chuckled as if watching a diversion. He sat back, sipping his tea with leisurely disgust. “Miss Shen, I’m very satisfied. This match suits me. I have no intention of calling it off.” He curled a challenge at the corner of his mouth.
Shen Li had expected as much and showed no surprise. “Then it seems our Third Miss is a lucky girl,” she said coolly. “She’s fortunate. You… less so.”
Lord Ji stiffened and straightened in his seat, displeasure plain in his face. “What do you mean by that? A curse?”
“Not a curse,” Shen Li replied, stepping back two measured paces. She left the space between them wide. “Just an observation. After all, the capital is far from the south. You’ve lived here for years; many things have changed. People you once trusted may not be the same anymore. Even loyalties shift.”
“What are you implying?” he demanded.
Shen Li did not meet his eyes. She folded her words like a blade, slow and precise. “I’ve heard that Prince Pingnan has a favored concubine who’s been by his side for decades. She’s given him two sons, both of whom he dotes on. Those two boys… they’re extremely beloved by the prince.”
Silence fell so hard it seemed to echo. Lord Ji’s expression flickered — irritation, then a pale unease. Shen Li’s meaning hung in the air: connections in the palace, the favor of a prince, the sort of influence that could upend a household. In the capital, being on the wrong side of someone who had been favored for years could mean sudden, catastrophic change.