Leng Mingye’s face was ashen with rage. Though he longed to crush the indifferent woman before him, he restrained himself with his profound inner strength. Yet he knew that if he didn’t quickly rid himself of the poison in his hand, it could spread uncontrollably.
“Mu Wanqing, just you wait. Sooner or later, you’ll pay for what you’ve done to me.”
Suppressing his fury, he glared at her through gritted teeth before slowly turning and walking away.
As soon as Honglian and the others left, Mu Zhenfeng, who had been hiding inside and overhearing everything, rushed out in panic. Seeing his daughter and the young lord at odds, he anxiously called out to stop her as she turned to leave, his voice laced with worry.
“Qing’er, you and the young lord—what happened between you two?”
“Don’t worry. As long as I’m here, he won’t dare harm you. But as for your eldest daughter, you’d better keep a closer eye on her. If she steps out of line again, don’t blame me for dragging the entire marquis’ household down with her.”
Mu Zhenfeng’s eyes brimmed with anxiety and tension. Wanqing felt an indescribable emotion toward her father. She had expected some punishment after helping him uncover the culprit behind his poisoning, but instead, he had remained silent in his room, not even bothering to inquire about Mu Wanxia’s fate when she arrived.
Since childhood, the old man had always favored those two sisters, and even now, despite Mu Wanxia poisoning him, she remained his beloved. Faced with her father’s nervous, frantic, and resentful expression, Wanqing turned away coldly and left without another word.
“Qing’er, wait! I know I’ve wronged you in the past, and I never imagined that for the sake of Young Master Sun, your elder sister would even poison her own father. But… she’s still your sister by blood. I hope you won’t hold it against her. And as for the young lord—he’s not someone we can afford to provoke. I’ll go to the Ji Manor at once to apologize on your behalf.”
Seeing the disappointment in his daughter’s eyes, Mu Zhenfeng felt an inexplicable pang in his heart. He called out to stop her, and when she paused, he looked at her pleadingly, trying to make amends for the past.
“The young lord’s business is none of your concern. Do you really think your apology will resolve the enmity between us? You know nothing. If you don’t want to bring trouble upon yourself, stay quietly in the manor and tend to your health. As for Mu Wanxia, I don’t care how much you favor or dote on her. I’ll only say this once—if she dares cross me again, I won’t spare her. As for Jun’er, though her temper is wild, she still has some conscience deep down. Spend more time with her—she’s far more reliable than your precious eldest daughter, who poisoned you and would gladly use you as a stepping stone.”
Wanqing had already been disheartened by Mu Zhenfeng’s blatant favoritism toward Mu Wanxia. Now, seeing him lower himself to plead on her behalf, asking her not to involve her sister, she felt a bitter irony. They were both his daughters, yet she had never once defied or harmed him, unlike Mu Wanxia.
Since childhood, he had barely spared her a glance. So when he tried to placate her now, Wanqing responded coldly, as if dismissing his ignorance. After making her stance on Mu Wanxia clear, she turned to leave.
“Qing’er… Ah, have I truly failed so miserably as a father? Perhaps Xia’er was merely influenced by her mother’s schemes. That vile Liu woman—I must quickly verify her identity before deciding how to deal with her.”
Watching Wanqing walk away, Mu Zhenfeng sighed deeply. He knew he couldn’t stop her, and as she disappeared from sight, his thoughts turned to the one who had poisoned him, leaving him weak and breathless even now. With a cold expression, he turned and retreated into his chambers.
“Miss, the young lord seemed truly furious this time. What exactly happened between you two? How did things escalate like this?”
When Honglian returned, she found Wanqing sitting in her room, reading and writing something. Recalling the man who had left with a face so dark it seemed he wanted to raze the entire marquis’ household, she couldn’t help but ask.
“It’s nothing. If he wanted to vent his anger, he could’ve easily asked the emperor for an edict to destroy the marquis’ household or execute us all. Since he hasn’t, it’s not worth worrying about.” Wanqing smiled faintly at Honglian’s concern. The man’s petty vindictiveness was something she found both exasperating and amusing.
She had once imagined the consequences of truly provoking him—either he’d find an excuse to annihilate the entire household in a fit of rage, or he’d devise some elaborate scheme to torment her to death. Yet now, he had come to her doorstep twice in a row, seething with anger but still resorting to childish antics. She couldn’t bring herself to take it seriously.
Having openly defied him, she was prepared for whatever underhanded tactics he might use against her. In fact, she had deliberately provoked him, fearing he might target those around her instead of confronting her directly. To her surprise, despite his hatred, he hadn’t taken his anger out on the household.
She could only interpret his behavior in two ways: either he was plotting something far worse to utterly ruin her reputation, or he was waiting for her to regret her defiance and beg for mercy. Either way, she, Mu Wanqing, wasn’t the least bit intimidated. Since she had chosen to break ties with him, she was ready for a fight to the death. After all, she had little attachment to the marquis’ household.
“Miss, I truly don’t understand your mindset. If something like this happened to me, I’d be utterly panicked.”
Honglian sighed at Wanqing’s calm composure. Her mistress’s pride and naivety baffled her—did she really believe that man wouldn’t retaliate?
Yet at the same time, she couldn’t help but feel an inexplicable admiration for her.
“When the boat reaches the bridge, it will straighten itself. What’s meant to come will come, and worrying about what might not happen is pointless. If you spend every day fretting over possibilities, you’ll exhaust yourself before anything even occurs. Prepare for the storm when it arrives—why should I fear him?”
Wanqing chuckled lightly at Honglian’s mix of admiration and teasing before returning to her book and writing.
She needed to establish her reputation quickly, expand her influence, and secure some official position—even if just in name—so she could find a way to break off her engagement with Sun Fengyu. That way, even if Leng Mingye sought revenge, he’d have to think twice.
Though it was said that even the emperor showed him deference, she refused to believe he’d dare defy the throne outright.
“I suppose you’re right, Miss. But what if Young Master Leng schemes against you and the household now? Do you have a plan?”
Honglian considered her words and found some sense in them. Still, she couldn’t help but press cautiously.
“Not at the moment. Go prepare these herbs for me. I have work to do.”
Wanqing smiled wryly and handed her a list before heading to the medicine room.
“Very well.”
Baffled by her mistress’s composed demeanor despite having no clear strategy, Honglian took the prescription and left to gather the ingredients.
Little did she know that as soon as Leng Mingye stepped out of the marquis’ household, he discovered his entire arm had turned blue-black, too weak to even lift.
“That wretched girl actually poisoned me. It seems I must repay her kindness in full.”
Pushing up his sleeve to reveal the discolored, shadowed limb, Leng Mingye’s handsome face twisted with fury. Gritting his teeth, he closed his eyes briefly before channeling his inner energy to dull the pain.
“Master, why do you look so pale? Your hand—you’ve been poisoned? Let me take you back to see a physician at once!”
Though he fought to stay upright, after a few steps, his head spun, and he slumped against a wall. Just then, Qingfeng arrived and, seeing his condition, rushed to support him. The moment he noticed the discolored hand gripping his arm, he paled and hurriedly helped him forward.
To be continued.
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