Palace Coup 27

Madam Xie stroked her daughter’s temples with tender affection. "Though I was born into the Wang clan of Langya, I was but a collateral branch, and not blessed with great beauty. Those petty creatures were merely pawns in my hand, used to tether your father to the estate and keep him from wandering. But you, my Miaohan, are naturally beautiful; you have no need for such schemes. It is not worth your anger to bicker over such trivial matters of jealousy."

Her gaze drifted, distant and unfocused.

In the households of the great noble clans, which man did not possess a multitude of cherished wives and beautiful concubines? Only he remained true to his original intent, never stooping to such arrogant, decadent, or wanton ways. He was the very model of a refined gentleman; even when things had reached that point, there was still only one person by his side.

"Mother, if you ask me, we should never have allowed Xie Miaoxuan to return. Xie Qi is a man held in contempt. I have heard that he even dared to steal a kiss and pilfer jade in my aunt’s chambers—it is utterly shameless. Even Grandfather dislikes him. To my mind, he has clearly inherited the bloodline of his mother’s side; he is rotten to the core and bears no resemblance to our Xie kin."

"Hold your tongue!" Madam Xie erupted in fury, slamming her teacup down onto the table with a heavy thud.

"Who has been whispering this filth into your ears?"

Seeing her mother—who had always doted on her—suddenly change color with brows arched in anger, Xie Miaohan pouted and shook her arm, acting spoiled. "Mother, they say dragons beget dragons and phoenixes beget phoenixes. Xie Qi committed such filthy deeds himself, and even Daoist Qiongshan said his fate is a bane to his family—a lone star of ill omen. He was born base; surely I am allowed to speak the truth?"

This was an open secret within the clan. As the son of the Xie family patriarch’s second wife, Xie Qi had been condemned as a harbinger of misfortune, blamed for the death of his own mother, and cast out of the manor after he was caught red-handed tainting the purity of his own aunt.

Yet, the man had gone off to the Southern Barbarian lands to engage in trade, dealing with crude, worldly matters, his very person reeking of copper and greed.

And now, they intended to bring his daughter—a girl of loose morals—back into the clan to stand on equal footing with her. How could this be?

*Slap!*

A heat flared across Xie Miaohan’s cheek. She stood stunned, clutching her face in shock as she stared at Madam Xie. This was the first time she had ever been struck in her life.

Madam Xie felt a pang of heartache, yet she did not step forward to comfort her. Her face remained stern. "How can a young woman always have such filthy words on her lips!"

With her face burning and stinging, Xie Miaohan noticed out of the corner of her eye that Madam Xie’s complexion had turned deathly pale.

"Xie Qi is your uncle, for better or worse. As his junior, you must not speak recklessly. Have I not taught you that a woman should be chaste, quiet, and refined, and steer clear of the gossip of others?"

Xie Miaohan watched in shock as a single, clear tear slid down Madam Xie’s face. A terrifying thought began to spiral through her mind, and for the first time, she felt a bone-deep sense of dread. "Mother..."

Madam Xie wiped the corner of her eye with a handkerchief. "Even if the Xie family’s prestige has waned, we were once a family of the Three Excellencies. Furthermore, you carry the pure and noble blood of my Wang clan of Langya. You must not act like this. If you tarnish the reputation of my Wang clan, take care of your own skin."

Xie Miaohan let out a sigh of relief. So that was it.

The Wang clan of Langya was of true, untarnished nobility—a top-tier house among the great clans.

Her mother had always taken pride in her Wang lineage. Even though she had only borne one daughter, she had always held her head high, and in recent years, she had become deeply devoted to Buddhism and Taoism, striving to be kind to others.

It was just her own momentary lapse in judgment.

She leaned in affectionately to embrace Madam Xie, resting her head on her shoulder.

"Mother, I was wrong. Please don't be angry; I won't speak such words again."

"Didn't Father want me to go find Xun Ming? I shall go to him now and have him arrange for a search for Xie Miaoxuan’s whereabouts."

Madam Xie patted her back wearily. "It is too late. Wait until tomorrow when the carriages and horses are prepared. If you leave the manor this late, do you wish to make me worry even more?"

As Xie Miaohan leaned against her mother’s shoulder, her gaze fell upon the Buddhist shrine. She knew that behind it was a string of prayer beads her mother had commissioned—blessed, and strung with one hundred and eight relics of high monks. Such items, bathed in the light of the Buddha, could ward off all evil spirits and misfortune; it was a family heirloom given to her by the Wang clan of Langya when she was married off.

It was said these would be part of her own dowry when she eventually left the house.

She clung to Madam Xie, refusing to let go, and it took a long time before she finally coaxed a smile back onto her mother’s face.

In the countryside, the night was silent.

Xie Miaoxuan tossed and turned on her bed, burning with fever, her face slick with sweat.

She tried to wake up, but her eyelids felt weighted with a thousand pounds, refusing to open.

A soft, childlike voice echoed in her mind.

"Father, Father, why are there only the two of us in our family? Du Qi has a father and a mother, and grandparents who dote on her. I heard she even has uncles and aunts in Qixian, and so many sisters..."

The young man, refined as a noble scholar, exuded an air of gentle elegance. A dimple appeared at the corner of his mouth as he laughed, holding his daughter, who was kicking and fussing in his arms, with eyes full of tenderness.

"So, having Father isn't enough for my Xuan'er? You've broken Father's heart."

"Father is teasing me again."

"Who would dare tease such a little rascal? But you must know, my child, that everyone in this world might eventually abandon you. Your kin and sisters all have their own lives to lead. Only you will accompany yourself through the end of your days. You must be kind to yourself, and do not be swayed by the words of others. As long as you are happy and at peace, that is enough."

The words sounded as if they had been gleaned from a lifetime of trials, yet the little girl listened, only half-understanding.

The scene shifted. Day by day, the girl grew into a graceful young woman.

The once vibrant, handsome young man now lay upon the bed, gaunt as a withered branch, his cheeks sunken and his lips a deep, bruised purple. The light in his eyes flickered, and the hand that gripped hers was so tight it felt as though he would crush her bones.

Suddenly, the light in his eyes flared with a fierce intensity.

"Remember this, my child: after I am gone, you must fulfill the marriage contract with Yuan Ju immediately. Do not listen to the slander of others. Keep your conduct upright, and never touch the slightest bit of witchcraft or sorcery. Treat Yuan Ju well; he will help you... help you..."

Before he could finish his words, the light in his eyes extinguished instantly. His hand fell heavily, no longer having the strength to grasp her delicate fingers.

Everything before her was a sea of white mourning cloth. The wind bit at her face, and her heart felt as if it were overgrown with weeds. The young girl curled into herself in despair, weeping until she could barely catch her breath.

A tall, lean figure crouched down and handed her a white handkerchief.

The cold glint in his eyes was like that of a beast waiting to devour its prey.

"Ah!" Xie Miaoxuan jolted upright, the words "My child, be strong..." still echoing in her ears.

Her face felt cool. She reached up to touch it and found it covered in tears.

Was this the memory of the original owner?

A dull, aching pressure throbbed in her heart. She felt carefully within herself, certain that it was empty and that no other spirit resided there with her.

She climbed out of bed and poured herself a cup of cold tea, drinking it down to soothe her racing heart.

Why had she dreamt such a dream? She could not fathom what it portended. To this day, she did not understand how her father—a man of such profound literary and martial talent, who had not only raised Xie Miaoxuan well but had also trained his own retainers to be worth ten men each—had ended up like this.

He had built a vast fortune on his own in the Nanhai Commandery, far from the capital; he clearly possessed both the heart and the means.

Such an exceptional man, if properly cultivated, could surely have led the Xie family back to its former glory and reclaimed a position among the Three Excellencies. Why on earth had he chosen to leave his clan?