Chapter Twenty-One: The Fabric Dispute

The Qin family was the maternal family of the third branch's old matriarch of the Xue household, and they had been close friends with the Xues for generations. Yet, in terms of development, while the Xues at least had Xue Qiu, the men of the Qin family neither studied nor practiced martial arts. All of them had been raised into idleness by the family head, expert only in squandering their inheritance, never in creating fortune, and each generation worse than the last.

Fearing they would fall behind, the Qin family had long hoped to marry into the main branch of the Xue household. However, as the Qin family declined, not only the main branch but even the third, fourth, and fifth branches of the Xues had little interest in them. Yet, as the Xue family's ancestor owed the Qins a life-saving debt, the Xues could not outright refuse when the Qins proposed a union.

The Xue family’s main branch had three daughters in total. The eldest, Xue Mengying, was born of Xue Yang and his first wife, Lady He. She was nineteen this year, and had married two years ago—the only son from a side branch of the royal Wang family of Langya, Wang Jingzhi.

Thus, only Xue Jiaoyue and Xue Fanzhi remained. Xue Yang treasured Jiaoyue as the apple of his eye, hoping she would marry far above her station—if not as empress, then at least into a family more distinguished than Mengying’s. How could he so easily consent to an engagement for her?

So this match fell to Xue Fanzhi.

Fortunately, though the Qin family was in decline, the main ancestral branch where Qin Jianyu resided still possessed considerable wealth. Moreover, Qin Jianyu’s mother was shrewd and resourceful, having already secured a seventh-rank military post for his father in the imperial court.

Though Qin Jianyu himself could not compare to imperial princes or nobility, he was, at least, a handsome and outstanding young man. Xue Fanzhi found the arrangement acceptable.

In her previous life, after being injured and unable to bear children, she took the initiative to break off her engagement to the Qins. At the time, Qin Jianyu quietly confessed he did not mind and wished not to be seen as ungrateful, wanting to honor their betrothal. Yet Fanzhi herself chose to let go, eventually marrying Xiao Yi.

As for Qin Jianyu, after the engagement was broken, he married a concubine-born daughter from a minor family. Her family offered no help to his career, and in the end, he pledged himself to the Prince of Jin’s household, where Xue Jiaoyue presided as mistress. The outcome was predictable: he was killed by Xiao Yi.

In this life, she would protect herself and avoid injury, then marry Qin Jianyu. This way, he would not have to bear the stigma of marrying a concubine-born woman, nor would he be forced into rebellion and killed. They could live out their days in peace and harmony.

By her estimate, she would soon meet Qin Jianyu. The Qins were also moving from the central plains to Jiankang, but unlike before, they had no great-uncle who was a general. With everything needing to be replanned—lodging, for instance—the Qin family had no grand residence in Jiankang and, upon arrival, would temporarily stay as guests in the Xue household, in the quarters of the third branch.

As Xue Fanzhi mused, her maid prepared lunch for her; she had been questioned all morning and had yet to eat. Perhaps because she had gone three days without food before her death, the aroma of mutton broth now awakened her ravenous appetite, pushing aside all other concerns. She picked up her bowl and drank deeply until she was half-full.

She then ate two eggs and a bowl of millet rice. Even after this, she felt only eighty percent sated, but her maids, Hongxiao and Honglian, were so alarmed they could hardly stand it. They had never seen her eat with such hunger, and, fearing she would overburden her stomach, Honglian reached out in alarm to snatch her chopsticks.

Only when Fanzhi finally set her chopsticks down did they relent.

After her meal, drowsiness overcame her, and all her worries receded; she only wished to sleep. It was Hongxiao who insisted she apply her medicinal salve before resting, and Fanzhi obeyed her.

She thought her exhaustion would keep dreams at bay, but unexpectedly, she dreamed again of Xue Jiaoyue—again at the banquet marking their coming-of-age, again with Jiaoyue pushing her. Fanzhi woke with a start.

Hongxiao, already awake, heard the commotion and hurried to draw back the bed curtains. Sitting up, Fanzhi looked outside; through the carved window, the sunlight was a golden red.

“What time is it? How long have I slept?” she asked.

“It’s nearly sunset!” Hongxiao replied. Noticing her mistress lost in thought, her face pale, she asked, “Are you unwell, miss?”

Indeed, she was uncomfortable—particularly so. The scene in her dream had truly happened. In her past life, at their coming-of-age banquet, Jiaoyue’s admirer, a young gentleman from the Sun family, for some reason tried to assassinate Jiaoyue. Fanzhi had stood to shield her, taking the blow herself. The wound damaged her abdomen, and the physicians declared she would never bear children. In fact, she never did.

But the dream always reminded her: she had not shielded Jiaoyue—Jiaoyue had pushed her.

Had this been before, she would never have believed her sister would do such a thing. But after all she had experienced since her rebirth, as memories resurfaced, it seemed entirely possible Jiaoyue had wished her dead.

How had sisters and kin come to this? When had things changed so utterly, without her noticing at all?

“It’s nothing,” Fanzhi said, not wanting her maid to worry, and changed the subject. “Did anything happen this afternoon?”

Honglian, who had been sewing, immediately perked up with gossip in her eyes. “The master dined with the Ninth Prince, and had told the servants to trouble you after the meal. But he drank too much and, on his way back, fell into the pond in the courtyard. If not for a quick-witted page who could swim, the household would be in mourning now.

“In any case, the old general will rest easy for a while. The master will be recovering for some time, so he won’t be thinking of troubling you.”

Xue Yang? Drunk?

Fanzhi remembered he had a strong head for wine. Had he actually been bested by Xiao Yi? And to fall into danger by chance—could there really be such coincidences?

Was it possible Xiao Yi had gotten her revenge for her, deliberately plying Xue Yang with drink and then finding a way to push him into the water?

At this, a hint of self-mockery touched Fanzhi’s lips. She was being foolishly sentimental.

In her past life, perhaps Xiao Yi might have done such a thing for her sake, but in this life, they hadn’t even begun a relationship.

Judging from how things ended before, even if Xiao Yi once stood up for her, it was only a dagger wrapped in candy—eventually, she fell, and Xiao Yi bared his knife.

If not Xiao Yi, then perhaps Xue Yang had orchestrated it himself. With so many outsiders in the house, it was not the time to show his temper openly, but as the head of the family, his pride would not allow him to let things go. Such a scheme was all he could do.

Regardless, with Xue Yang quiet for the time being, she could expect a few peaceful days.

She asked, “What about Xue Jiaoyue? Has anything happened?”

At the mention of that name, both maids’ voices grew sharp. Honglian scoffed, “No one in this house has it better than her—miss, you’d do better to mind yourself than worry about her.”

Honglian was straightforward by nature; a more scheming person would never speak so openly or offer such blunt advice.

Fanzhi could not help but recall the fate of Hongxiao and Honglian in her previous life. Had she overlooked too many things before?