When Shen Qingrang returned home, it was already past midnight. Lady He, the wife of the Shen family patriarch, was wide awake, troubled by the bridal dowry list sent by Tong Shao's family. Although Tong Shao had been raised in Marquis Wuning's household, her dowry was being provided by her biological father, Tong Yuchun, an assistant minister. Tong Yuchun had other children, including legitimate sons and daughters, as well as several concubine-born daughters, which left the dowry list looking less than impressive.

  With her eldest daughter married off and her youngest still abroad in Japan with no news of her wellbeing, Lady He felt utterly alone. Her husband, as always, was indifferent to household matters. With no one else to confide in, she decided to visit her son to air her grievances. Hearing that Shen Qingrang had returned, she quickly donned her outer robe and headed to the front yard study.

  This was perhaps the only thing that had gone smoothly for her recently. At least her son had stopped mingling with those idle scions, indulging in cockfights and revelries. Now, he seemed to be seeking purpose, and Shen Xiaohai was pulling strings to secure him a nominal official position to start his career.

  Sure enough, the lights in the front yard study were still on. Lady He quickened her pace but stopped abruptly when she heard the angry voice of her husband, Shen Xiaohai, from within. Since finalizing the marriage arrangement with the Tong family, Shen Xiaohai had been bming her for pampering their son, making him arrogant and careless enough to fall into Marquis Wuning’s trap. Hearing his voice now filled her with dread.

  Shuilian, carrying a tray of tea, caught sight of Lady He and froze momentarily before timidly bowing.

  Lady He gestured for her to hold off delivering the tea, then leaned closer to the door to listen in.

  “Tell me, what good are you?! You trained with the household guards since you were a child, and now, when you’re merely tasked with following trained assassins to cim some credit, you can’t even manage that!” Shen Xiaohai paced angrily around the room, his demeanor like that of a frustrated lion. “You were nearly exposed! If your face had been unmasked and your identity revealed, you would have not only doomed yourself but dragged the entire Duke Ying’s household down with you! And I’m counting on you to bring us honor!”

  Shen Qingrang felt a deep sense of grievance. His father spoke as if he could have succeeded effortlessly in his pce. While Shen Qingrang had some rudimentary martial skills, his father was nothing more than a useless drunkard with ambitions far beyond his abilities. Now even this dangerous task was being dumped on him.

  He punched the bed in frustration, his voice muffled. “The Heir Apparent and Second Young Master Ye came ter... You know better than anyone that the Heir Apparent is highly skilled, and Second Young Master Ye has spent years training in the military. How could I possibly compete? I had no choice but to flee…”

  “And what about Sixth Miss Song? Is she dead or not?!” Shen Xiaohai’s impatience fred. “You may be useless, but these assassins were handpicked and trained by Master Yuanhui himself. Surely, they wouldn’t fail as well?”

  Lady He’s heart skipped a beat, and she covered her mouth to stifle a gasp. Dead or not? Assassins? What does this have to do with Master Yuanhui?

  She recalled the ominous prophecy Yuanhui had recently given about Song Chuyi, and a chill ran down her spine. She began trembling uncontrolbly as though plunged into an icy abyss.

  Shen Qingrang shook his head in exasperation. “I’m telling you, the Heir Apparent and Second Young Master Ye arrived too quickly. That girl also had protection... Moreover...” He swallowed hard, his expression hesitant. “I think Sixth Miss Song recognized me…”

  Shen Xiaohai’s face twisted into a grotesque snarl. He shot a venomous gre at his son before letting out a cold ugh.

  Shen Qingrang shrank back, trembling as he watched his father’s fury. “I can’t be sure she recognized me... It was just the way she looked at me…”

  Shen Xiaohai impatiently cut him off with a wave of his hand, his mind already turning to seek counsel from Master Yuanhui.

  Fortune favors the bold. He couldn’t let Duke Ying’s household nguish in mediocrity for another generation. He had once followed the wrong prince—Prince Duan—and now, despite aligning himself with the Prince of Commandery, he was still working under the Eastern Prince. With Master Yuanhui’s support, he refused to believe that they couldn’t overcome a mere girl.

  Meanwhile, Song Chuyi returned home to a scene of panic. The servants of the Marquis of Changning’s household, typically well-trained, were visibly flustered. Song Chengru, the family patriarch, along with Old Master Song and Song Jue, had all rushed to the gate to greet her.

  When they learned she had been injured, their faces darkened, especially Song Jue, who had already sent people to search for her at the Cui family’s estate, as she had never stayed out so te before.

  Cloaked in a wide cape to hide her disheveled state, Song Chuyi’s bruised cheek remained gringly visible. She finally exhaled a breath of relief upon entering the study.

  “What happened?” Song Jue asked, noticing her reddened eyes and unprecedentedly disheveled appearance. His expression changed immediately. “Who dared to do this?!”

  “Jue-er!” Old Master Song reprimanded sharply before bowing respectfully to Zhou Weizhao. “Thank you, Your Highness, for escorting my granddaughter back.”

  Song Chuyi’s lips curved into a faint smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes. She waited quietly until the Old Master finished his courtesies before speaking softly, “It was Yuanhui. He conspired with Noble Consort Xian and the Shen family to kill me.”

  Yuanhui’s obsession with her had reached such an extreme that she didn’t know whether to be fttered by his attention or angered by his audacity.

  Song Jue’s fury ignited, but concern lingered in his gaze as he gnced at her injured face. Gritting his teeth, he cursed, “That bald-headed devil!”

  Having recently investigated Yuanhui, he knew the so-called saintly monk was anything but. Now that Yuanhui had set his sights on Song Chuyi with deadly intent, the danger couldn’t be ignored.

  Even as rage boiled in Song Jue's veins, Song Chuyi’s calm recounting of the attack only deepened his unease. Yuanhui was no ordinary monk. His reputation as a saintly figure was a carefully cultivated facade. Beneath it y a cunning and ruthless adversary.

  The Marquis of Changning’s household quickly became a flurry of activity as pns were set in motion. Zhou Weizhao, ever composed, took his leave after ensuring Song Chuyi was safely settled. Before departing, he cast a lingering gnce her way, his gaze unreadable, as if silently vowing something.

  Back in the study, Song Chengru and the family elders deliberated over their next steps. Old Master Song’s expression was grim. “This isn’t just a personal vendetta anymore. Yuanhui has become a threat to our family’s safety and honor. We cannot let this go unanswered.”

  Song Jue nodded firmly, his fists clenched. “We must strike back, not just for Chuyi but to show Yuanhui and his backers that we are not to be trifled with.”

  Song Chuyi, sitting quietly on the side, finally spoke. “Grandfather, Yuanhui has shown his hand too soon. He fears us—not just me, but the power and influence of our family. If we act rashly, we risk pying into his hands.”

  Her words hung in the air, and the room fell silent. It was a calcuted perspective, not borne of fear but of crity. Old Master Song regarded her with a mixture of pride and concern. “Then what do you propose, Chuyi?”

  She smiled faintly, though her eyes were sharp. “We need to gather evidence—proof of his conspiracies, his manipution, and his crimes. Yuanhui thrives on his reputation as a saintly figure. We’ll strip him of it, piece by piece, until he has no allies left to shield him.”

  Her pn was bold and dangerous, but it struck at Yuanhui’s greatest vulnerability: his carefully constructed image. The family elders exchanged gnces, weighing the risks and rewards.

  Finally, Old Master Song spoke. “Very well. But we must tread carefully. Chuyi, your safety comes first.”

  That night, as Song Chuyi y in her room, the events of the day repyed in her mind. The ambush, the cold determination in Yuanhui’s actions, and the fleeting moments of vulnerability she had shown before Zhou Weizhao and Ye Jingchuan. She clenched her fists under the covers. This wasn’t just about survival anymore. It was about reciming control over her fate.

  Yuanhui, Noble Consort Xian, the Shen family... she thought, her eyes glinting with resolve. You’ve made your move. Now it’s my turn.

  Far away, in the dimly lit halls of Yuanhui’s temple, the monk sat cross-legged, his expression serene but his thoughts turbulent. He had underestimated Song Chuyi. Her escape and survival were not part of his pn. His fingers tightened around a string of prayer beads.

  “She’s more formidable than I anticipated,” he murmured to himself. “But no matter. The game is far from over.”