Chapter Nine: Mother

Perhaps it was the innocence of youth that made Xie Thirteen so fearless; she spoke without hesitation, “I may not have seen it with my own eyes, but it’s not hard to imagine what happened. Separated from the group, surrounded by a pack of filthy refugees, all those men like wolves—what good could come of it? Am I wrong to say so?”

Although Madam Jin was more partial to Xue Jiaoyue, Xue Fanzhi was still her own daughter. Hearing her reputation slandered, she grew displeased and was just about to question Xie Thirteen’s mother, when Xue Fanzhi herself interjected, “You are indeed wrong. I was with the Princess the entire time. None of the nonsense you’re spouting ever happened.”

If disaster had befallen her, the Princess would hardly have been spared.

With Zhaoyang’s good name at stake, Xie Thirteen’s face showed her indignation, but she dared not argue further.

Xue Fanzhi pressed on, “Thirteen, you and I have never had a quarrel. Why would you want to defame me?”

Truth be told, Xie Thirteen held some dislike for Xue Fanzhi—after all, she was already quite pretty at such a young age.

Though Xue Jiaoyue was beautiful as well, she was always meek and deferential. But Xue Fanzhi never paid her flattery, never even said a pleasant word.

With a cold sneer, Xie Thirteen replied, “Do I need a reason? I just can’t stand the sight of you. What of it?”

A sharp crack of a whip rang out. Minglan had risen and, without warning, brought her whip down hard on Xie Thirteen’s shoulder. She was knocked to the ground, and by the time she realized what had happened, her spring dress was torn, and blood was starting to seep through.

Xie Thirteen burst into tears, shouting indignantly at Minglan, “What right do you have to hit me?”

Minglan calmly put away the whip. “If you won’t tell the truth, next time it’ll be your face.”

Xie Thirteen began to protest, “You think you can do whatever you please? I’ll go and—”

Only then did she realize: the Princess of Zhaoyang had neither father nor mother. If she wished to complain, it would have to be to the Emperor himself.

Minglan let out a derisive laugh. “You’re just a little nobody from the Xie family. Who do you think will stand up for you? If you pester me with another word, your face will bloom with scars. Try me if you dare.”

Indeed, the Xie family might hold sway over half the southern lands, but even among the legitimate branches, there were seven in total, not to mention the lesser ones.

How cathartic it felt—Xue Fanzhi realized for the first time that one could truly “rely on power to bully others.” Was this not the life she had always wanted? In her past life, she had been far too meek; this time, she would live as boldly as Minglan.

Xie Thirteen was ultimately cowed by Minglan, glancing at her with wounded eyes before suddenly pointing at Xue Jiaoyue. “It was Xue Seventh who said it! When even her own sister says such things, what’s left to prove? If you dare to beat me, go ask her elder sister yourself.”

Even though she had suspected the truth, having it confirmed left Xue Fanzhi momentarily dazed.

She turned to Xue Jiaoyue and asked, “Sister, was it really you?”

Minglan sneered, “Her own sister, indeed!” Then, turning to Xue Fanzhi, she said, “This is your family’s matter now—I’ll leave it to you.”

With Xie Thirteen’s accusation laid out so openly, Xue Jiaoyue could not deny it. She burst into tears. “Sister, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I only saw those refugees running in your direction and thought something had happened to you.”

“You thought? You thought?” Xue Fanzhi, trembling with chilled fury, rose to her feet. “So you didn’t even see anything with your own eyes, yet you went around telling everyone your own sister had been violated?” She could hardly believe it—she had always treated Xue Jiaoyue best in her past life.

Xue Jiaoyue, feeling even more wronged, pleaded, “Didn’t I already apologize? Why won’t you let it go?” She clung to Madam Jin’s sleeve. “Mother, I really didn’t do it on purpose. Sister is just angry with me!”

With a single “not on purpose,” her reputation was destroyed, and their mother was ready to abandon her then and there. “Not on purpose?” No, it was deliberate.

Xue Fanzhi let out a cold laugh and turned away, unable to speak.

Madam Jin scolded, “What’s with that attitude? Didn’t your sister already apologize?”

It had always been clear to Xue Fanzhi that her father favored Xue Jiaoyue, so she had never grown close to him. But her mother was always telling her that she loved her children equally. Only now did she realize how boundless that favoritism truly was.

Xue Fanzhi could only laugh bitterly. She turned back and said, “Mother, what attitude do you want from me? She spread rumors that I’d been violated. You were ready to leave me behind just because she suggested it. Did you ever consider that I might really be dead, that you might never see me again? Are you truly my mother?”

“If I’m not your mother, who is? Did you spring from a crack in a rock?” Madam Jin retorted unhappily. “And who says it was your sister’s idea? I decided to return to Jiankang myself—don’t go blaming her for everything!”

“Then you never considered me your daughter?”

“When did I ever not consider you my daughter?” Madam Jin slapped her thigh. “They say raising children brings you only grief—I suppose it’s true. I’ve toiled for you, and now I’m the villain. Am I to expect you to honor me in my old age?”

Suddenly, Xue Fanzhi remembered how, in her past life, when she’d argued with Xue Jiaoyue, her mother had sided with Jiaoyue just as stubbornly.

Back then, she’d thought it was just family, nothing worth overthinking—but now she understood their actions might well have cost her her life.

Xiao Yi had been right: she really was a fool.

“Fine. You gave birth to me, you raised me—I owe you a life, I owe you a debt. I’ll find a way to repay it. But I won’t let this matter rest. When we return, I’ll speak to Second Great-Uncle. I trust him to see right and wrong and judge justly.”

In the Southern Dynasties, where noble families held sway, the Xue family was hardly worth mentioning. But five years ago, the second branch’s General Xue Qiu had won a decisive victory and become a terror to the Hu tribes, earning the title of Old General Xue. Since then, the family had gained a solid footing.

Xue Qiu had never married, nor had children. The patriarch of the main branch was his own brother, so his nephews were as sons to him—one of whom was Xue Fanzhi’s father, Xue Yang.

With Xue Qiu’s support, Xue Yang had become head of the family, but the true pillar of the Xue clan was Xue Qiu. As a scion of the gentry, he looked down on those of merchant background, such as Madam Jin, whose conduct he deemed vulgar. Madam Jin feared him, but he treated Xue Fanzhi quite well.

When Madam Jin heard that Xue Fanzhi intended to report this to Xue Qiu rather than Xue Yang, she was stunned. “Why bother your second grandfather? You unfilial child, you are not to trouble him!”

Her father was even more partial to Xue Jiaoyue than her mother—she was no fool.

Xue Fanzhi’s expression was resolute; she was determined to see her grievance redressed.

Madam Jin panicked. If Second Uncle found out, he might send them back to their hometown.

Xue Jiaoyue hurried to intercede. “Sister, don’t be angry with Mother—she didn’t mean it. You don’t know how many times she wept while you were missing; look, her eyes are still swollen. And now you’re home safe—why trouble Second Grandfather and make him worry?”

“You’re not a child anymore, but you know nothing of filial piety!”