Chapter Twelve: Regaining Freedom

(1/3)

(General Qingyuan’s Residence)

Wan Qi Yue slipped back home stealthily and changed her appearance. She called out to the two little maids, waiting here and there, but they were nowhere to be seen.

“Where have these two little maids gone slacking off~”

After waiting as long as it takes to brew a cup of tea, still no sign of them. This shouldn’t be.

[System: Beep beep, Bailu and Qiufen are kneeling in the front hall. Hurry and save them.]

Without bothering to fix the silver hairpin she hadn’t yet inserted, Wan Qi Yue hurried toward the front hall.

Before she even reached the door, she heard the sharp crack of a whip, followed by continuous screams and sobbing.

“Hit them! Beat them hard!” Wan Qi Hui stood nearby, hands on her hips, commanding with a lofty air.

Wan Qi Yue quickened her steps.

She saw Bailu and Qiufen trembling as they knelt on the floor, their clothes torn apart by the whip’s lashes, revealing pale skin marked with fresh red wounds.

Two household guards, sweat beading on their brows, held two thick, long whips, panting heavily.

No one knew how long they had been beaten...

The two maids were terrified, tears and sweat mingling as they curled up tightly, barely daring to breathe.

The whip struck the floor with a terrifying crack.

“Hit them harder! After you finish, go find Uncle Yuan for a reward!”

At this, the two guards rolled up their sleeves, shouted loudly, and prepared to strike again with all their might.

The two little maids gripped each other’s hands, trembling and closing their eyes, bracing themselves for another round of lashes.

The whip sliced through the air, emitting a sharp whistle.

But the knife-like pain didn’t fall upon them as expected.

They cautiously opened their eyes, wanting to see what had happened.

“Miss!” they cried out in surprise.

Wan Qi Yue caught the two thick whips barehanded, snatched them away, and slammed them hard onto the ground.

She glared fiercely at the triumphant Wan Qi Hui before her.

Wan Qi Hui recalled how she had slapped Wan Qi Yue so frantically that day, and the swelling still hadn’t gone down.

She instinctively touched her face, where the new skin was still tender from a burn by hot tea.

Unwillingly, she took a few steps back.

From a distance, until she reached near the main seat, her expression shifted again: “Oh, sister, where have you been playing?”

Wan Qi Yue was not blind to the gloating tone in her voice.

“Of course, I went to see Brother Ling~”

(2/3)

“You!”

Wan Qi Hui’s face flushed with rage at Wan Qi Yue’s words.

Before she could step forward to question her, the person seated at the main seat spoke in reprimand:

“You’ve got some nerve, daring to injure the household guards and sneak out! Such a lawless creature.”

Wan Qi Yue looked up to see her so-called father, Wan Qi Feng, sitting in the main seat, glaring at her while holding a freshly brewed bowl of tea.

She hadn’t noticed this ‘good father’ carefully before, but now observing his small round ears, unruly eyebrows, flat nose, bulging face, and thin lips...

Wan Qi Yue curled her lips. This was clearly the face of a cold and unfeeling man. What kind of taste did her mother have?

“What’s wrong? Lost your tongue?”

“I was just out for a walk. Does Father have to control that too?”

No sooner had she spoken than the steaming tea bowl flew straight at her.

She dodged to the side just in time, and the bowl smashed her not-yet-fixed silver hairpin.

With a loud crash, the hairpin shattered into pieces with the bowl’s fragments, splattering tea all over her.

Had she not dodged in time, the bowl might have struck her forehead.

She shook the water off her sleeve and glanced at her angry so-called father.

Who in the household would dare talk back to him like this? Wan Qi Yue’s retort made his hand tremble with rage, and he was speechless for a long while.

Seeing her father’s face turn dark, Wan Qi Hui couldn’t help but smirk smugly.

Hmph, now she’s doomed, she thought.

Gently tugging at her father’s sleeve, Wan Qi Feng finally came to his senses.

“How dare you talk to me like that?” he asked, more shocked than angry.

Luckily, after spending the past few nights piecing together what had happened to the original owner, she took a deep breath and began her performance!

With reddened eyes and tears hanging, she shouted loudly at Wan Qi Feng:

“You beat my maids, restricted my freedom, wouldn’t even let me leave the residence—how do you expect me to talk to you?”

“You’ve always favored my sister since childhood, believing everything she says. Father, when have you ever believed me?”

“Father, you gave me life, so how could I speak ill of you behind your back?”

...

After several questions, she collapsed to the ground, crying so pitifully everyone was stunned.

Usually, at this moment, she would be trembling in fear, afraid to utter a word. Why act like this today?

“Father! Wan Qi Yue openly said you’re incompetent and rely entirely on her mother, Song Qian Ge!”

Seeing Wan Qi Feng’s rare paternal affection about to stir, Wan Qi Hui quickly reminded him and stopped him from getting up to help her.

(3/3)

Recalling previous incidents, he furrowed his brows but withdrew his hand.

Wan Qi Yue calmly pointed at Wan Qi Hui and asked:

“If you say I said it myself, when, where, under what circumstances did I say it? To whom exactly? Can you remember clearly?”

“You...” Wan Qi Hui’s gaze flickered, stammering, which made Wan Qi Feng suspicious.

“Father, words can be frightening, and public opinion can melt steel. I have borne this grievance for many years, yet you never seriously listened to your daughter’s explanations.”

“Before Mother passed, she instructed me not to resent you. In truth, I never did.”

“Mother’s cherished Red Maple Pavilion is also because of her feelings for you. She said she would always remember the moment you saved her beneath the red maple tree and told me to respect you.”

“If Father needs it, I am willing to give my dowry to support you.”

Tears streamed down Wan Qi Yue’s cheeks as she sat on the floor sobbing, like a wounded little beast.

Even the coldest heart would fail to say another harsh word upon seeing this scene.

Wan Qi Feng, already somewhat ashamed, suddenly pricked up his ears at the mention of “dowry.”

Wan Qi Hui, who had been shoved aside, hurried up to help her “good daughter” up from the ground.

“Oh, Yue’er, it’s Daddy’s fault, all Daddy’s fault. Don’t cry, good child, get up.”

Wan Qi Feng expressed remorse for his mistakes over the years, wiping her tears—though it was far from sincere.

Wan Qi Yue’s weeping over her grievances only worsened with his consolation—also insincere.

Both father and daughter harbored their own schemes, fully aware but tacitly avoiding exposing each other.

This scene of filial piety and paternal affection was unbearable for the cast-aside Wan Qi Hui to watch.

She pouted, throwing a tantrum with her spoiled noblewoman temper.

She believed that if she threw a fit like before, her doting father would immediately drop everything to comfort her.

But today, it did not go as she wished.

In Wan Qi Feng’s eyes, wealth and status were paramount; what was family affection worth...

Wan Qi Hui’s incessant noise finally forced him to order the servants to drag her away.

Having never suffered such humiliation, her eyes reddened instantly. She glanced at Wan Qi Yue, who feigned pitiful innocence in her seat.

After the chaotic noise died down, he quickly took Wan Qi Yue’s hand to comfort her.

Wan Qi Yue seized the moment to tug his sleeve: “Daddy~ my maids are still kneeling. Please let them go. I went out on my own without telling them, so you can’t blame them.”

“All right.” Wan Qi Feng waved his hand.

The two maids looked up at their mistress, trembling as they kowtowed and helped each other up.