Chapter 25: Deformity

The sweet potato, cool to the touch and no longer painful, was peeled by Mrs. Liu and handed to Qiuyue. As she took a bite, the soft, sweet flavor made her eyes crinkle with pleasure. It reminded her of her life back home; she was never of high birth, or she would not have ended up a servant.

"If my child were still alive, he would likely be your age," Mrs. Liu said, her eyes brimming with unshed tears as she gazed at Qiuyue.

Seeing the maternal tenderness in Mrs. Liu, Shen Quanyi felt a stir of emotion. She nodded toward Qiuyue, who immediately knelt beside Mrs. Liu with a smile and wrapped her arms around her.

"If you do not mind, think of me as your daughter," Qiuyue said, her voice turning choked with emotion. "I left home when I was young. I only had my mother and younger brother. We were poor, and to earn a living—and to ensure my mother and brother could survive—I came here to serve others. I have known since I was a child that as a girl, I mattered little. I was always yielding to my brother, and I knew that in times of crisis, I was expected to sacrifice everything for the family."

Mrs. Liu was deeply moved, a flicker of pity softening her heart toward the girl. She pulled Qiuyue into an embrace. "You are such a good child. I only hope that when my own child is born, I won't have to treat them with such distinction."

Though she spoke these words, everyone present knew all too well that such things were common in this world. The atmosphere in the room grew heavy.

"Having a mother, yet as if one had none."

Qiuyue and the others froze. Shen Quanyi’s expression remained indifferent, her words spoken with such calm detachment that one could not discern if she felt joy or anger.

They dared not add anything. Outside in the courtyard, the soft rustle of snow could be heard as someone swept a path. Shen Quanyi leaned back against a soft pillow, her fingers tapping lightly on the table. Watching the snow falling in flurries outside the window, she felt a chill begin to creep in. She frowned slightly and reached for the gilded hand warmer on the floor.

Suddenly, a sound emerged—like the babbling of a brook, long and continuous. The elegant, clear notes drifted into the room, followed by a sorrowful melody that seemed to recount a life of tragedy. It was a tune that could rend the heart, though none knew the suffering of the one playing it.

The music, winding and soul-stirring, made the women in the room turn their heads repeatedly. Outside, in the vast expanse of white, a dark figure stood out. Heshang sat quietly, cradling a zither.

"Playing the zither in this weather—what elegance," Qiuyue muttered, though she was secretly thinking that he must be frozen to the bone; for her part, she didn't want to step even half a step outside.

Shen Quanyi frowned, feeling a sense of displeasure. As if sensing her gaze, Heshang lifted his face. A smile was plastered onto his deathly pale features. Snow fell upon his head and shoulders, turning his hair as white as frost, yet the more he was covered, the straighter his thin, frail back seemed to grow.

"How insolent!"

Someone hurried in from the west gate, the first word out of their mouth a sharp reprimand. Shen Quanyi recognized her immediately as Steward Zhang, the woman she had only seen once the previous day. Dressed in a dark red jacket, Zhang stormed in, not bothering to offer greetings to Shen Quanyi, but instead kicking the zither right out of Heshang’s arms.

"That demonic noise is deafening!"

Subjected to such humiliation, Heshang showed no resentment. His fingers were already red and swollen from the intense playing, and Zhang's kick caused the nail on his right hand to split, blood beginning to seep out. He looked up, locking eyes with Shen Quanyi from across the distance, his cold, clear eyes clouded with a layer of mist.

Noticing Heshang’s gaze, Zhang’s face darkened. She spoke coldly, "What kind of place do you think this is, that you can come and go as you please? This is the master's residence. Who do you think you are to show off here? If you offended the master, could you bear the consequences?"

"Flaunting your lowly tricks in front of the master's guests."

With that, Zhang ruthlessly stomped on the zither lying on the ground. A sudden, sharp sound rang out as a blood-stained string snapped. In that moment, she had stripped Heshang of all his dignity.

Heshang lowered his eyes and knelt, maintaining a posture of utter submission. This only fueled Zhang's fury; her eyes grew frantic as she paced back and forth before him.

Zhang’s aggressive behavior made the atmosphere suffocating. Qiuyue was terrified, but when she looked at Shen Quanyi, she found her calm. Beside her, Mrs. Liu looked paralyzed with fear, barely daring to breathe.

Finally, Zhang bent down, struggling to control the shrillness in her voice as she hissed, loud enough only for them to hear: "Heshang, you still haven't given up, have you?"

"Do you want to get everyone here killed?"

At these words, Heshang suddenly looked up and grinned. The smile grew increasingly radiant, and in his ghost-like eyes, the distorted face of Steward Zhang was reflected.

In an instant, Zhang understood. She straightened up, lifted her chin, and snapped, "Fine. Since Heshang has forgotten his station as a steward, he shall kneel here. Kneel until you have regained your senses."

Zhang turned, looking across the distance at the vibrant, beautiful woman inside the room. She recalled reports from the previous day that Heshang had been fawning over her, attending to every little detail himself.

The fire of anger in her heart could not be contained, and she cast a gaze filled with rage and jealousy toward Shen Quanyi.

Receiving Zhang’s look, Shen Quanyi could easily see the woman’s intense dislike—and perhaps, a hint of hatred?

Where did such hatred come from?

Shen Quanyi rose and stood at the doorway, meeting Zhang’s provocative stare with unwavering composure. Turning her gaze to the man kneeling on the ground, and recalling Zhang’s manic expression, she seemed to understand. She couldn't help but sneer inwardly—the world was truly full of such sordid affairs.

If she remembered correctly, Zhang was at least twenty years older than Heshang.

"Young lady, you arrived with the master. It is not proper for women to wander about freely. You would do well to remember that, lest you show your face to outsiders and bring shame upon the master."

"It would give others cause to say you lack discipline."

Zhang curled her lips, looking at Shen Quanyi with disdain. Others might not know, but she was well aware of Shen Quanyi’s status—a mere concubine. She assumed the master had brought this "trinket" along to the manor simply to alleviate his boredom while he was away on business.

With that, she flicked her sleeves, feeling smug, and strode away.

Qiuyue was incensed. She stood up to chase after her and give her a piece of her mind, but Shen Quanyi held her back.

"Look at that low-born servant, a mere steward, acting so arrogant! She speaks as if she were the master herself! She really thinks she's the queen of this manor."

Qiuyue was so angry she had lost all restraint. Mrs. Liu quickly covered her mouth in terror, though she soon realized that since Qiuyue was not a servant of this manor, Zhang had no authority to punish her.

Mrs. Liu offered a sheepish smile. "Steward Zhang has always been extremely strict with those under her. We cannot afford to make a single mistake."

Shen Quanyi said nothing. Zhang held great power over the people here. She took Qiuyue’s hand and said, "If you go out there rashly, she has a thousand ways to deal with you. This is her territory, after all. Don't fall into her trap."

Qiuyue fell silent, realizing that Shen Quanyi already had her own plans, and she decided not to interfere further.