Chapter 1 — Daughter of the Martial Arts Dojo

My father ran a martial arts school, and he once ingrained in me a fundamental rule: as long as you firmly stand on the side of right, you will never suffer an injustice. When I turned eighteen, my biological parents came looking for me, claiming I was the long-lost eldest daughter of the wealthy Lu family. Those who practice martial arts hold gratitude and duty above all else, and the debt of birth and upbringing cannot simply be forgotten. Carrying my adoptive father’s old canvas duffel bag, I arrived at the grand Lu family villa. Stepping through the front doors, the living room held only my mother and my elder brother. Their adopted daughter, Lu Niansheng, rose smoothly from the sofa, wearing a sweet, obedient smile.

"Sister, was the journey tiring?"

I lifted the canvas bag in response.

"No need."

The butler led me upstairs, and an hour later, I came back down. Lu Niansheng was leaning against my mother's shoulder, weeping softly, with a distinct red handprint glowing across her cheek. The moment she caught sight of me, she shrank back, cowering.

"Sister, why did you hit me just now?"

Every gaze in the room pierced directly toward me. I walked steadily in her direction and raised my hand. A swift gust of wind cut through the air, and the expressions of everyone present instantly shifted. My hand stopped right in front of her face, never coming down. I spread my five fingers, hovering them beside that vivid slap mark. The calluses formed from ten years of relentless fist training made my knuckles noticeably broader than the imprint left on her skin.

"My hand—does it match the mark on your face?"

The fingers she was using to shield her face twitched slightly.

"You lacked the courage to hit yourself hard enough. Next time, find someone else to help you."

I brushed my hands together with utter indifference.

"Finish your performance and remember to call me for dinner."

The cold towel in my brother’s hand drooped slightly. A droplet of water fell from the fabric onto the gleaming marble floor, and he lowered his gaze to watch it. He wasn't looking at the floor; rather, he was deliberately avoiding looking at Lu Niansheng. My mother stood rooted to the spot, her mouth opening and closing soundlessly before she hurried after me for two hurried steps.

"Dinner isn't ready yet, why don't you go upstairs and rest for a bit?"

Her tone was a fraction softer than before. The butler, reading the nuance in my mother’s expression, guided me upstairs. The room was at the very end of the northern hallway, fitted with thin curtains and a completely empty wardrobe. Even the mattress lacked a set of sheets. A long, jagged water stain traced its way down the corner wall from a cracked ceiling. As we ascended, a young maid passed by carrying a tea tray, and the butler lowered his voice.

"Miss Niansheng mentioned that this room is quiet, which suits her temperament."

I rummaged through my canvas bag, finding only two t-shirts, a pair of jeans, and a pair of cloth shoes. At the very bottom, my fingers brushed against a small voice recorder my adoptive father had slipped inside. He had warned me that city people harbored too many schemes and I needed to be on my guard. At dinner time, the entire family was seated. Lu Chuanyuan occupied the head of the table, with Su Yuanting seated beside him. Lu Nianning sat close to Lu Niansheng, while I was assigned the far end of the long table. Lu Niansheng stood up, expertly serving soup and portioning food, filling a bowl to the brim and placing it directly in front of me.

"Sister, please try this. It's very nourishing for the stomach."

I picked up my spoon. Lu Nianning spoke up.

"Could you eat a bit more quietly?"

"I haven't even started yet."

"Let me make it clear to you first. There are rules in this house." He glanced disdainfully at the faded t-shirt I wore. "I don't care how you behaved over there, but here, don't embarrass the Lu family."

Lu Niansheng gently set her chopsticks down.

"Brother, sister just arrived. She'll adjust given time."

I looked straight at Lu Niansheng.

"Are you implying that I actually eat like a pig, but I simply didn't notice it myself? Is that it?"

She forced a tight, awkward smile.

"I didn't mean that."

"Then did you hear me clearly? Did I actually make any noise or not?"

"I wasn't paying attention."

"You weren't paying attention, yet you spoke up on my behalf?" I put my spoon down. "Next time, make sure you hear properly before taking sides. Jumping to conclusions without listening isn't kindness. It's framing someone."

The dining room fell into a heavy silence. Su Yuanting hastily tried to smooth things over.

"The food is getting cold, hurry up and eat."

Her chopsticks remained resting on her bowl; she hadn't touched a single bite. Lu Chuanyuan kept his head down, but the hand reaching for food slowed considerably, clearly distracted. Lu Nianning stared at me fixedly for two long seconds before lowering his head, his knife scraping softly against the ceramic plate. Lu Niansheng kept her eyes downcast, her eyelashes shimmering with feigned tears. I ignored her completely.

Back in my room, my phone lit up with a text message from my adoptive father: *Daughter, have you eaten yet?* I replied with a single word: *Eaten,* and sent nothing more. A maid knocked on the door, announcing that a visitor from the Jiang family had arrived. Jiang Linzhou, bound by a childhood engagement arranged by the two families to marry the "eldest daughter of the Lu family," had now found that obligation falling entirely onto me. He glanced down at my worn t-shirt, his gaze lingering on my cloth shoes for a full second.

"The Lu family actually lets you dress like this?"

He turned his head to address Su Yuanting.

"Auntie, I've already discussed this with my father. This engagement should be put on hold for now."

I leaned back against the sofa.

"Fine. Put it on hold, then."

He paused, taken aback.

"Don't you have anything to say?"

"You've already made up your mind, what is left for me to say? You came here to deliver a verdict, not to negotiate."

"Watch your attitude."

"You came to call off our engagement and expect me to smile and be polite? Do I need to pour you a cup of tea as well?"

His face darkened, and he spun around and left, his leather shoes clicking sharply and hastily against the marble. Lu Niansheng chased after him, and before the door could click fully shut, her voice drifted in.

"Brother Linzhou, don't be angry. Sister is just putting on a tough front."

I poured myself a cup of tea. The cup left untouched in front of Jiang Linzhou was pushed to the far side of the table. Lu Nianning was leaning against the doorframe of the living room, making no move to see Jiang Linzhou out. He watched me, slowly spinning his phone in his hand.

"You think you're terribly clever with your tongue, don't you?"

I took a sip of the tea.

"Speak your mind if you have something to say."

"Linzhou is the only son of the Jiang family. Show him some respect when you talk. You think this engagement gives you face? It gives the Lu family face. Since you haven't lived in this house for eighteen years, don't come back and ruin things right away."

I set my teacup down and met his gaze.

"So you're saying that when he breaks off the engagement with me, I should stand up, raise a glass, and thank him for bestowing such honor upon me?"

His expression turned icy. He turned and walked away, his slippers slapping harshly against the marble floor.

Late that night, I called my adoptive father.

"Daughter! How are things over there? Is anyone bullying you?"

"Nothing to worry about. Your daughter doesn't lose out."

"That's my girl." He paused for a moment. "Remember, stand firmly on the side of right, and you'll never be wronged. If you truly run into a wall you can't get past, I have people on my end."

Hanging up, I slid the voice recorder beneath my pillow. The northern night of Jingbei was as still as a stagnant pond.

The next morning, Lu Niansheng poured me a glass of milk, wearing an expression of hesitant concern.

"Sister, could you perhaps not practice your martial arts inside the house?" She paused, her voice dripping with artificial care. "The maids say they're a bit frightened, afraid that one day you might lose control and hurt someone."

"When I stand in my stances, I don't make a sound."

"I know, but fists and feet have no eyes."

"Which maid said that?"

She choked on her words for a second.

"Call her over so I can ask." I took a sip of the milk. "I might believe whatever you claim, but at the very least, I need to know who said it."

"I don't recall the exact person, someone just mentioned it in passing."

I set my glass down with a soft thud.

"No one mentioned it. You made it up."

Her eyelashes trembled.

"You're trying to make the family believe that someone who practices martial arts is prone to violence. That first day's slap—who's to say I didn't actually hit you? Right?"

"I didn't—"

"Why don't you just ask me directly: *Sister, are you going to beat me in the future?*"

She fell silent.

"I won't," I stood up, "but if you keep fabricating lies like this, I can't guarantee anything."

Lu Nianning, drinking tea nearby, froze mid-motion. For the first time, he didn't jump in to back her up. Su Yuanting walked out from the kitchen, her apron still untied. She had caught the last two sentences, and her hand stopped mid-wipe. She looked straight at Lu Niansheng, who kept her head lowered, eyes downcast. Su Yuanting didn't walk over to comfort her as she usually would have.

In the afternoon, as I passed through the living room, Lu Niansheng stood with her back to the hallway, speaking on her phone.

"Brother Linzhou, sister didn't mean to provoke you yesterday. She just comes from a small, backward place and has never seen these things before. Please don't hold it against her."

Jiang Linzhou's voice bled thinly from the earpiece:

"She feels wronged? What right does she have to feel wronged?"

"She grew up outside, her perspective is different—"

I stepped up quietly behind her. Catching sight of me out of the corner of her eye, she abruptly snapped the phone shut. I placed the small voice recorder squarely on the coffee table.

"Go on. I haven't finished listening."

She stared at the recorder, her lips turning pale.

"You were recording?"

"You were speaking up for me, weren't you? If you were only defending me, why would you be afraid of a recording?"

Without a word, she turned and hurried up the stairs, her footsteps twice as fast as usual. I retrieved the recorder and tucked it back into my pocket. By the kitchen entrance, Lu Nianning stood holding a glass filled to the brim with water. I had no idea how long he had been standing there. He watched the staircase just as Lu Niansheng's figure vanished around the bend, then shifted his gaze to me. Neither of us spoke a word. He carried the glass of water back into the living room without taking a single sip.

Another day passed. By dusk, Jiang Linzhou appeared once more, carrying a shopping bag as a gift for Lu Niansheng—a limited-edition designer handbag.

"Thank you, Brother Linzhou." Lu Niansheng accepted the bag, lowering her head bashfully. "You really shouldn't. My sister is still here."

He shoved the bag firmly into her hands.

"I'm giving a gift to Niansheng, what does it have to do with her?"

I picked up an apple from the coffee table and took a crisp bite.

"It has nothing to do with me. But you broke off the engagement yesterday and came running over to gift things today—you seem far more invested in this household than I am."

His face stiffened.

"You were the one who broke the engagement, and you're the one who keeps rushing back here. Are you trying to call off the marriage or swap brides?"

His face flushed red and white in rapid succession. snatching up his bag, he turned and left, his leather shoes clacking away with even greater haste than before. Lu Niansheng chased after him for two steps before stopping. She turned back to look at me, her expression entirely unnatural—there was no trace of grievance left in her eyes. Instead, she offered a cold, knowing smile.

"Sister, is the apple sweet?"

"It's alright."

"Then eat plenty of it." She took two steps up the stairs, then glanced back over her shoulder. "After all, in this house, there aren't many things you'll be able to grab onto for long."

With that, she turned and headed up to her room.

A few days later, Su Yuanting came to my bedroom. Lu Chuanyuan’s upcoming fiftieth birthday banquet required a grand celebration, serving as the official occasion to introduce me to the high society of Jingbei. A maid delivered a custom-tailored formal gown—a deep purple dress made of fine material. When I tried it on, I discovered the inner lining at the hem had been carefully ripped, leaving a hidden tear in the fabric. Unless inspected closely, it was imperceptible, but walking a few steps in it would cause the seam to split entirely. I folded the dress neatly and placed it back into the wardrobe.

Footsteps echoed outside the door, and Lu Niansheng poked her head in, wearing her habitual innocent smile.

"Sister, does the gown fit well?"

"It's passable."

"That's good." She smiled faintly. "Don't be late three days from now."

Her light footsteps faded down the hall. Late that night, I went downstairs to pour a glass of water. The kitchen light was on, and two figures stood inside. Lu Niansheng had her back to the doorway, facing the very same maid who had guided me on my first day.

"On the night of the banquet, plant those items under her pillow. Once they're found during the search, you don't need to explain anything—just lower your head and stand quietly."

The maid hesitated nervously.

"Miss, if this is investigated—"

"It won't be traced back." Lu Niansheng lit up her phone screen and shoved it in front of the maid's face. "Even if it is, do you think my father will believe me or you? If you succeed, this amount will cover your son's tuition for two years. If you refuse, I'll find someone else tomorrow."

The maid fell silent, offering no further objection. I stepped back into the shadows. The staircase was unlit, and the voice recorder sat quietly in the pocket of my pajamas.