Chapter 3: Visit
Ming Wei survived, and so Liu-shi could no longer justify keeping the maidservants and old women of her courtyard detained. She had to let them return—not out of any change of heart, but only to avoid letting the third and fourth branches of the family see a joke in it.
After a few days, Ming Wei's health gradually improved, and she began working on embroidery in earnest. Thankfully, her embroidery skills had been retained in the original body’s muscle memory, and in her previous life, she had also practiced needlework with great care. It wasn’t difficult for her.
Only by keeping herself constantly busy could Ming Wei avoid thinking about the past—yet, far too much had happened in the past thirty-six years.
The Worthy Consort had indeed become Empress, and her son, the First Prince, had been made Crown Prince. But it didn’t last long. The Crown Prince rebelled, and the Emperor, in fury, abolished his title and sent troops to suppress the uprising. On the day her son died during the crackdown, the Worthy Consort hanged herself with a white silk sash.
The second Crown Prince didn’t live long either, leaving behind only a single son—now the eighteen-year-old Crown Grandson, Rong Zhen. Rumor had it that Rong Zhen was not favored by the Emperor, and he had three uncles who each held real military and political power.
That was all she could gather from Tangli and Yuelin. The two girls were young and low in status, with limited knowledge; anything older than a few years, they didn’t know.
The woman she once hated to the bone—Worthy Consort—had died in disgrace. Those old grudges had lost their meaning. But the true culprit who had led to her death—Rong Duo—still lived, reigning supreme!
Ming Wei could not resign herself to this!
But her rationality suppressed all extreme emotions. She had reminded herself again and again: she must endure. Her current identity was merely an unfavored illegitimate daughter in the Chengping Marquis’ household. The palace and Rong Duo were still far, far out of reach.
Only by surviving could other possibilities emerge. Ming Wei clenched her fists and lowered her gaze. She would not overestimate herself like in her past life. Everything would wait until she had gathered her strength.
“Miss, you’ve been working half the day—why don’t you rest a bit?” Tangli’s voice pulled Ming Wei out of her thoughts.
Looking up, she saw Tangli carrying a black lacquer tray inlaid with pearls. On it was a steaming tea cup from an old official kiln and a small plate of hawthorn cakes.
“Set it down,” Ming Wei nodded with a smile. These two maids cared for her genuinely. Even when she had behaved oddly, they had only attributed it to lingering symptoms of her fever and worried over whether she’d suffer lasting effects.
Tangli obediently set the tray down and came to Ming Wei’s side. Seeing the embroidery on the table, she furrowed her brow slightly.
“Miss...” she hesitated, clearly unsure whether to speak.
“If you have something to say, just say it,” Ming Wei teased gently. “I’m not going to bite you, am I?”
Tangli gave an embarrassed smile, then said with concern, “Please don’t think me meddling, but I don’t think this embroidery will pass under Madam’s inspection.”
Ming Wei’s smile faded, replaced by a serious expression.
The second madam forced the illegitimate daughters to do embroidery—was it really to prepare them for future married life so they wouldn’t be looked down on? Ming Wei’s heart filled with scorn. She had not been sure before, but now, Tangli’s words confirmed her suspicions.
Ming Wei was just about to ask more when they heard Cuizhu’s voice from the doorway: “Third Miss, Fourth Miss, Sixth Miss!”
The second branch’s other daughters were coming! Ming Wei’s heart skipped a beat.
Though she had heard descriptions from Tangli and Yuelin, she had yet to meet them in person. Would they notice anything strange about her?
Before she could think more, the light laughter of several young girls approached.
Tangli scrambled to gather the embroidered handkerchiefs and sachets from the table and shoved the plate of hawthorn cakes into a cabinet. Ming Wei was the first to collect herself and stopped her.
“No need to panic,” Ming Wei said calmly. She smoothed out the wrinkles in her skirt and gracefully rose to her feet, going to greet the visitors.
Tangli gave her a surprised look. The old Ming Wei had been timid and self-conscious, always worried about appearances in front of her sisters. She would never have let them see a coarse treat like hawthorn cakes. Yet after this illness, something about her had changed...
Passing the screen that divided the bedroom, Ming Wei saw three elegant young girls enter, surrounded by maids in colorful dresses. The one leading appeared the eldest—poised and dignified, exuding a noblewoman’s bearing. The one in the center was the most beautiful, but a hint of arrogance marred her grace. The last girl wasn’t as striking in looks but had a warm and steady aura that invited trust.
These must be Third Miss Ming Rong, Fourth Miss Ming Fang, and Sixth Miss Ming Lian. Ming Wei hadn’t met them before, but based on their appearance and seniority, she could guess. Since they were all older than her, she wouldn’t go wrong addressing them as sisters.
“Third Sister, Fourth Sister, Sixth Sister!” Ming Wei stepped forward and curtseyed with a smile.
All three nodded with smiles. Ming Rong stepped up and took her hand warmly. “So glad to see you’ve recovered! Your fourth and sixth sisters and I were all thinking of you, but Mother said you had a fever and shouldn’t be disturbed, so we waited until now to visit.” She added teasingly, “You won’t blame us for that, will you?”
“How could I still have a place in this household if I did?” Ming Wei smiled sweetly. “Mother and you sisters have shown me so much care—I can only be grateful.”
Ming Rong’s smile deepened. Ming Fang, however, showed a flicker of disdain in her eyes, while Ming Lian’s glance carried a trace of genuine concern.
“Such a sweet tongue, Seventh Sister. If you get any cleverer, even Mother won’t be able to stop herself from doting on you after such an illness,” Ming Fang said with a cold smile. Her tone was barbed, making it clear she was here for the spectacle.
“If we’re speaking of cleverness, I doubt you, Third Sister, and I together could match Fourth Sister,” Ming Lian said quickly, noting Ming Wei’s discomfort. “Didn’t Father just praise her the other day, telling us to learn from her? Isn’t that right, Third Sister?”
Ming Rong nodded, maintaining her image as the composed eldest.
Only then did Ming Fang’s expression ease. “Oh, Father was just flattering me!”
“Don’t just stand there chatting—please sit!” Ming Wei gestured for them to sit. Out of view of Ming Rong and Ming Fang, she gave Ming Lian a small, grateful smile.
So Ming Lian was helping her? Ming Wei’s feelings grew complicated. Could it really be simple concern for a younger sister? In the wrong step, the price could be death. Her last life had taught her not to trust easily.
“I heard you had a fever for several days?” Once seated, Ming Rong asked gently. “Even if you caught a chill, it shouldn’t have dragged on this long. What did the doctor say?”
“He only said it was a fever,” Ming Wei replied cautiously. “He said I have a weak constitution, which is why recovery was slow. After taking medicine for a few days, the fever finally subsided. I’ve troubled Mother and you sisters enough already.”
Ming Rong nodded. In her slightly lowered eyes, Ming Wei caught a flicker of sympathy—an understanding born of shared misfortune. Ming Wei knew then: word of her near-death illness had likely spread among the illegitimate daughters. They all lived in Yuxiang Garden. It wasn’t hard to guess.
To be an illegitimate daughter in this household was hard enough. If one of them was worn down to death by the legal wife, it was a warning for the rest. Even without a legitimate daughter under Liu-shi’s knee, their lives weren’t easy. From the outside, they looked like noble young ladies, pampered and protected—but only they knew the bitterness they endured.
“I heard you were on the brink of death,” Ming Fang said, her tone oddly regretful. “They say surviving disaster brings future fortune—seems you’re destined for great blessings.”
From the moment she arrived, Ming Fang had said little, but every word was a hidden jab. Ming Wei, no longer a naive teenage girl, calmly ignored the provocation. With a serene smile, she replied, “I thank Fourth Sister for the blessing.”
Was that sarcasm? Ming Fang couldn’t be sure. Seeing Ming Wei’s composed expression, she hesitated. Could she really have taken it as well-wishing?
“Miss, tea is here,” Yuelin walked in with a red lacquer tray. On it were four porcelain cups painted with plum, orchid, bamboo, and chrysanthemum.
Ming Wei rose to serve them personally, calm and poised. Seeing this, Ming Fang finally realized she wasn’t pretending. It was like punching into cotton—there was no satisfaction. Her expression darkened further.
The four girls chatted with underlying tension. Liu-shi rarely took them out, and they had little to talk about beyond clothes and embroidery.
Ming Fang was the first to leave. After that, Ming Rong and Ming Lian also excused themselves.
Ming Lian lingered. Just before she stepped out, she paused and turned to glance at Ming Wei, her eyes filled with curiosity. Ming Wei had always been quiet, but once timid and self-effacing—now she carried herself with quiet dignity.
Could a severe illness truly change one’s temperament? Ming Lian wasn’t sure if she was overthinking it.
“Sixth Sister, what’s got you so deep in thought?” Ming Rong asked with a smile. “Worried about Seventh Sister?”
Startled, Ming Lian collected herself under her elder sister’s gaze. Meanwhile, Ming Fang had already hurried far ahead, leaving her maids trailing behind.
Watching the three depart, Ming Wei remained at the doorway a while before returning inside. In her modern life, she had been an only child. In her past life, her wealthy household was simple—only her and her older brother Tang Yao. He had always pampered her.
But now, there were nine girls in the Chengping Marquis household.
Ming Wei’s head began to ache faintly.
After a few days, Ming Wei's health gradually improved, and she began working on embroidery in earnest. Thankfully, her embroidery skills had been retained in the original body’s muscle memory, and in her previous life, she had also practiced needlework with great care. It wasn’t difficult for her.
Only by keeping herself constantly busy could Ming Wei avoid thinking about the past—yet, far too much had happened in the past thirty-six years.
The Worthy Consort had indeed become Empress, and her son, the First Prince, had been made Crown Prince. But it didn’t last long. The Crown Prince rebelled, and the Emperor, in fury, abolished his title and sent troops to suppress the uprising. On the day her son died during the crackdown, the Worthy Consort hanged herself with a white silk sash.
The second Crown Prince didn’t live long either, leaving behind only a single son—now the eighteen-year-old Crown Grandson, Rong Zhen. Rumor had it that Rong Zhen was not favored by the Emperor, and he had three uncles who each held real military and political power.
That was all she could gather from Tangli and Yuelin. The two girls were young and low in status, with limited knowledge; anything older than a few years, they didn’t know.
The woman she once hated to the bone—Worthy Consort—had died in disgrace. Those old grudges had lost their meaning. But the true culprit who had led to her death—Rong Duo—still lived, reigning supreme!
Ming Wei could not resign herself to this!
But her rationality suppressed all extreme emotions. She had reminded herself again and again: she must endure. Her current identity was merely an unfavored illegitimate daughter in the Chengping Marquis’ household. The palace and Rong Duo were still far, far out of reach.
Only by surviving could other possibilities emerge. Ming Wei clenched her fists and lowered her gaze. She would not overestimate herself like in her past life. Everything would wait until she had gathered her strength.
“Miss, you’ve been working half the day—why don’t you rest a bit?” Tangli’s voice pulled Ming Wei out of her thoughts.
Looking up, she saw Tangli carrying a black lacquer tray inlaid with pearls. On it was a steaming tea cup from an old official kiln and a small plate of hawthorn cakes.
“Set it down,” Ming Wei nodded with a smile. These two maids cared for her genuinely. Even when she had behaved oddly, they had only attributed it to lingering symptoms of her fever and worried over whether she’d suffer lasting effects.
Tangli obediently set the tray down and came to Ming Wei’s side. Seeing the embroidery on the table, she furrowed her brow slightly.
“Miss...” she hesitated, clearly unsure whether to speak.
“If you have something to say, just say it,” Ming Wei teased gently. “I’m not going to bite you, am I?”
Tangli gave an embarrassed smile, then said with concern, “Please don’t think me meddling, but I don’t think this embroidery will pass under Madam’s inspection.”
Ming Wei’s smile faded, replaced by a serious expression.
The second madam forced the illegitimate daughters to do embroidery—was it really to prepare them for future married life so they wouldn’t be looked down on? Ming Wei’s heart filled with scorn. She had not been sure before, but now, Tangli’s words confirmed her suspicions.
Ming Wei was just about to ask more when they heard Cuizhu’s voice from the doorway: “Third Miss, Fourth Miss, Sixth Miss!”
The second branch’s other daughters were coming! Ming Wei’s heart skipped a beat.
Though she had heard descriptions from Tangli and Yuelin, she had yet to meet them in person. Would they notice anything strange about her?
Before she could think more, the light laughter of several young girls approached.
Tangli scrambled to gather the embroidered handkerchiefs and sachets from the table and shoved the plate of hawthorn cakes into a cabinet. Ming Wei was the first to collect herself and stopped her.
“No need to panic,” Ming Wei said calmly. She smoothed out the wrinkles in her skirt and gracefully rose to her feet, going to greet the visitors.
Tangli gave her a surprised look. The old Ming Wei had been timid and self-conscious, always worried about appearances in front of her sisters. She would never have let them see a coarse treat like hawthorn cakes. Yet after this illness, something about her had changed...
Passing the screen that divided the bedroom, Ming Wei saw three elegant young girls enter, surrounded by maids in colorful dresses. The one leading appeared the eldest—poised and dignified, exuding a noblewoman’s bearing. The one in the center was the most beautiful, but a hint of arrogance marred her grace. The last girl wasn’t as striking in looks but had a warm and steady aura that invited trust.
These must be Third Miss Ming Rong, Fourth Miss Ming Fang, and Sixth Miss Ming Lian. Ming Wei hadn’t met them before, but based on their appearance and seniority, she could guess. Since they were all older than her, she wouldn’t go wrong addressing them as sisters.
“Third Sister, Fourth Sister, Sixth Sister!” Ming Wei stepped forward and curtseyed with a smile.
All three nodded with smiles. Ming Rong stepped up and took her hand warmly. “So glad to see you’ve recovered! Your fourth and sixth sisters and I were all thinking of you, but Mother said you had a fever and shouldn’t be disturbed, so we waited until now to visit.” She added teasingly, “You won’t blame us for that, will you?”
“How could I still have a place in this household if I did?” Ming Wei smiled sweetly. “Mother and you sisters have shown me so much care—I can only be grateful.”
Ming Rong’s smile deepened. Ming Fang, however, showed a flicker of disdain in her eyes, while Ming Lian’s glance carried a trace of genuine concern.
“Such a sweet tongue, Seventh Sister. If you get any cleverer, even Mother won’t be able to stop herself from doting on you after such an illness,” Ming Fang said with a cold smile. Her tone was barbed, making it clear she was here for the spectacle.
“If we’re speaking of cleverness, I doubt you, Third Sister, and I together could match Fourth Sister,” Ming Lian said quickly, noting Ming Wei’s discomfort. “Didn’t Father just praise her the other day, telling us to learn from her? Isn’t that right, Third Sister?”
Ming Rong nodded, maintaining her image as the composed eldest.
Only then did Ming Fang’s expression ease. “Oh, Father was just flattering me!”
“Don’t just stand there chatting—please sit!” Ming Wei gestured for them to sit. Out of view of Ming Rong and Ming Fang, she gave Ming Lian a small, grateful smile.
So Ming Lian was helping her? Ming Wei’s feelings grew complicated. Could it really be simple concern for a younger sister? In the wrong step, the price could be death. Her last life had taught her not to trust easily.
“I heard you had a fever for several days?” Once seated, Ming Rong asked gently. “Even if you caught a chill, it shouldn’t have dragged on this long. What did the doctor say?”
“He only said it was a fever,” Ming Wei replied cautiously. “He said I have a weak constitution, which is why recovery was slow. After taking medicine for a few days, the fever finally subsided. I’ve troubled Mother and you sisters enough already.”
Ming Rong nodded. In her slightly lowered eyes, Ming Wei caught a flicker of sympathy—an understanding born of shared misfortune. Ming Wei knew then: word of her near-death illness had likely spread among the illegitimate daughters. They all lived in Yuxiang Garden. It wasn’t hard to guess.
To be an illegitimate daughter in this household was hard enough. If one of them was worn down to death by the legal wife, it was a warning for the rest. Even without a legitimate daughter under Liu-shi’s knee, their lives weren’t easy. From the outside, they looked like noble young ladies, pampered and protected—but only they knew the bitterness they endured.
“I heard you were on the brink of death,” Ming Fang said, her tone oddly regretful. “They say surviving disaster brings future fortune—seems you’re destined for great blessings.”
From the moment she arrived, Ming Fang had said little, but every word was a hidden jab. Ming Wei, no longer a naive teenage girl, calmly ignored the provocation. With a serene smile, she replied, “I thank Fourth Sister for the blessing.”
Was that sarcasm? Ming Fang couldn’t be sure. Seeing Ming Wei’s composed expression, she hesitated. Could she really have taken it as well-wishing?
“Miss, tea is here,” Yuelin walked in with a red lacquer tray. On it were four porcelain cups painted with plum, orchid, bamboo, and chrysanthemum.
Ming Wei rose to serve them personally, calm and poised. Seeing this, Ming Fang finally realized she wasn’t pretending. It was like punching into cotton—there was no satisfaction. Her expression darkened further.
The four girls chatted with underlying tension. Liu-shi rarely took them out, and they had little to talk about beyond clothes and embroidery.
Ming Fang was the first to leave. After that, Ming Rong and Ming Lian also excused themselves.
Ming Lian lingered. Just before she stepped out, she paused and turned to glance at Ming Wei, her eyes filled with curiosity. Ming Wei had always been quiet, but once timid and self-effacing—now she carried herself with quiet dignity.
Could a severe illness truly change one’s temperament? Ming Lian wasn’t sure if she was overthinking it.
“Sixth Sister, what’s got you so deep in thought?” Ming Rong asked with a smile. “Worried about Seventh Sister?”
Startled, Ming Lian collected herself under her elder sister’s gaze. Meanwhile, Ming Fang had already hurried far ahead, leaving her maids trailing behind.
Watching the three depart, Ming Wei remained at the doorway a while before returning inside. In her modern life, she had been an only child. In her past life, her wealthy household was simple—only her and her older brother Tang Yao. He had always pampered her.
But now, there were nine girls in the Chengping Marquis household.
Ming Wei’s head began to ache faintly.
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