Chapter 4 — Pierced Through the Heart by My Husband, I Am Reborn

In my past life, Song Chieu Da remained as pristine and untouched as white jade for the sake of Lam Thu Y; no matter how long we were wed, he never once laid a hand on me. Song’s mother, seeing that my belly remained flat, mocked and insulted me day after day.

“A hen that cannot lay an egg, yet you dare cling to your position as the mistress of this house?!”

Driven to the brink of despair, I had no choice but to imitate Lam Thu Y’s style. I wore silk robes the color of moonlight, donned white magnolia hairpins, and even changed the incense in my rooms to the cedarwood scent she adored most. Bearing a bowl of ginseng soup, I gently pushed open the doors to his study.

“Husband… the night is already deep.”

Song Chieu Da lifted his head, his gaze cold enough to pierce through bone.

“Dong Thi imitating Xi Shi.”

He flew into a rage and swiped the bowl of soup aside. The boiling liquid splattered across my skin, searing the back of my hands.

“Take it off.”

I froze, trembling. “What… what did you say?”

“Take off those clothes.”

He stalked toward me, his eyes brimming with utter loathing. “Do you really think you are worthy of imitating her?”

I backed away, only for him to lunge and seize the collar of my robe.

*Rip!*

The sound of silk tearing echoed through the room.

“Song Chieu Da!” I cried out, desperately clutching my neckline, my eyes wild with panic. “Have you lost your mind?!”

“Lost my mind?”

He let out a laugh that sounded as chilling as a nightmare. His hand clamped around my throat, his grip so tight it felt as though he intended to crush the life from me.

“If you hadn't used underhanded drugs to entrap me, would I have been forced to marry you? And would Thu Y have been forced to wed that wastrel brother of yours?!”

“Take them off! Now!”

I fought with my life to keep my garments intact, but he ripped through the fabric without a shred of mercy. My devotion, meant for a lifetime, was repaid only with humiliation and tears of blood. In the end, I was cast out of the study. Wearing only a thin white under-robe, my hair in disarray, and my hairpins scattered, I walked barefoot through the frigid, endless corridor. The servants hid in the corners to snicker, while the older matrons pointed fingers at me openly.

“Look, the Mistress has been thrown out again.”

“Trying to dress like Lady Lam—it’s only natural she brings this shame upon herself!”

By the next morning, the entire city of Jinling knew the tale. “The wife of the Song household lacks decorum; she attempted to seduce her husband in the dead of night and was cast out in disgrace!”

A bone-chilling wind blew that night, and I had nowhere to turn. It was from that night onward that I realized I had lost everything. The world, however, only saw the humiliation of an unloved woman; they never saw the blood and tears she had spilled.

Night fell, and Tan Tu Chuoc once again climbed through the window. He arrived reeking of strong liquor, forcing me down onto the bed.

“Guess who I saw at the Drunken Immortal Pavilion today?”

I pushed him away with indifference, my voice cold. “Who?”

He bit gently at my earlobe and chuckled softly. “Your precious brother, wining and dining a woman in a private room.”

In my past life, Giang Hac Lam had always been single-minded in his devotion to Lam Thu Y, never even taking a concubine. I lowered my eyes, hiding the spark of calculation that flickered within. After all, that woman was someone I had intentionally arranged for Giang Hac Lam—a woman who possessed seven or eight parts of Lam Thu Y’s face and demeanor. The moonlight he held in his heart was finally being trampled into cold mud. Pleased, I allowed Tan Tu Chuoc to take his fill of me. From then on, he visited my room every night, sometimes bringing news, other times remaining silent, only holding me tight and tormenting me until the break of dawn.

“Giang Tuyet Ngam…”

That night, he gripped my wrists firmly, his breath hot against my skin. “When will you… grant me a name?”

I smiled, my lips curling into a mocking arc. “I have never once considered it.”

His movements stalled for a moment.

“If you don't wish to,” I goaded him intentionally, “I can always find someone else.”

Before the words had even left my lips, he had swung himself off the bed with lightning speed. Tan Tu Chuoc grabbed his outer robe, not saying a word, never looking back, and strode out into the night. He remained gone for half a month. I told myself not to care. He was nothing but a pawn. But every night, when the world grew silent and the wind stirred against the windowpane, I still found myself looking toward that frame… only to find that the familiar figure in red was gone. I bit my lip hard, crushing the soft, weak emotions beginning to sprout in my heart. I could not allow myself to waver. I had more important things to do. Song Chieu Da was about to become the top scholar. And it was time… for the Giang family to face their own total destruction.

Lam Thu Y was dead. It happened at the exact same moment as in my past life—the only difference was the manner of her death. In the past, she had wasted away from melancholy, and with her final breath, she had clutched Song Chieu Da’s hand, pleading weakly, “Brother Chieu Da… do not blame sister Tuyet Ngam…”

But in this life… the one who killed her was none other than Giang Hac Lam. The news reached me while I was sketching my brows before the mirror. Xuan Tuyet burst in, her face ghostly pale.

“Mistress! The young wife… she has passed away!”

I gave a light “Oh,” my hand never pausing, gently finishing the final stroke. “How did she die?”

Today, my brows were drawn especially well—the curvature was perfect, the expression lifelike. A lifetime of suffering was worth this moment of peace. Lam Thu Y, this game… you were never going to win.

“They say… she argued with the young master and fell, striking the corner of the table.”

I curved my lips and took a slow sip of tea. As expected. It was an ending I had foreseen. Last night, Tan Tu Chuoc had sent word: Lam Thu Y had discovered the woman Giang Hac Lam was keeping on the side. Consumed by rage, she had stormed to the house and beaten the woman until she was half-dead. When Giang Hac Lam returned, the two had immediately erupted into a violent confrontation.

“Do you think you are still the high-and-mighty Miss Lam of years past?!”

“Giang Hac Lam! Who was it that knelt down years ago, begging me to marry him? If I had known it would come to this, I would have died rather than set foot in the Giang household! You will never… ever compare to Brother Chieu Da!”

In a fit of fury, Giang Hac Lam shoved her hard. Lam Thu Y stumbled, crashing headfirst into the sharp edge of the pear-wood table. Blood splattered, staining the floor a vibrant red. And my “dear brother”—he had simply turned away, not bothering to look back even once. By the time the maids discovered her, her body had long since turned cold. The white moonlight… had finally shattered like porcelain. Her death did not require me to lift a finger. Because in this life, everything… was already different.

In my past life… even after Lam Thu Y died, she remained the white moonlight in the hearts of Song Chieu Da and Giang Hac Lam. She had died of illness, and Song Chieu Da had held her corpse, his eyes bloodshot, looking at me as if I were a murderer.

“Giang Tuyet Ngam, you owe her a life.”

And my “dear brother” Giang Hac Lam had gone mad, nearly beating me to death.

“Giang Tuyet Ngam, you are the one who caused her death!”

The whole world blamed me. But now… her corpse was cleared away in haste, and the mourning hall was put together with a few perfunctory sticks of incense to satisfy social appearances. To the outside world, it was said she died of an illness; Lam Thu Y had always been known for her frail health, so no one suspected a thing. And the only maid who witnessed the truth that day? She had long since been sent to the underworld. Perfect. It could not have been more perfect. I stood on the balcony, slowly nibbling on melon seeds. Every *crack* echoed… as if I were gnawing on the slow, sweet taste of retribution. I—Giang Tuyet Ngam—did not need to act. But the net of heaven is vast, and it was returning to me every drop of blood and every injustice I had suffered in my past life.

The news that Song Chieu Da had placed first in the imperial examinations reached Jinling, and the Song household became as lively as a festival overnight. Matchmakers trampled the threshold, fighting to offer marriage proposals; portraits of noble young ladies filled the Song mansion’s main hall. Song’s mother could not stop grinning, boasting to everyone she met:

“My Chieu Da has been brilliant since childhood. Now that his name is on the golden scroll, he must be blessed by our ancestors.”

But I knew clearly… beneath that kind mask lay a heart as poisonous as a viper’s. In my past life… immediately after Song Chieu Da became the top scholar, his mother had scrambled to find a woman to put in his room. She drugged her own son’s tea and ordered her niece—Lieu Nhu Yen, a delicate young lady—to be drugged as well and shoved into his room. The next morning, Song Chieu Da had roared in fury:

“Mother! What have you done?!”

Song’s mother had remained calm, turning to point at me and saying, “It was Tuyet Ngam who arranged it. She feared she could not serve you well, so she wanted to find someone to take her place.”

I had a thousand mouths but could not offer a single word of defense. Song Chieu Da laughed coldly and ordered a servant to bring me a bowl of medicine. “You like drugging people so much? Then… taste it yourself.”

The medicine’s effects were intense; my body burned as if I were being consumed by fire. I writhed in agony, unable to maintain the slightest shred of dignity. And Song’s mother stood by, smiling as gently as a loving matron, saying, “Tuyet Ngam, a woman’s virtue is her foundation. To behave like this—it sounds truly shameful to the outside world.”

In this life… Song Chieu Da had not even returned home, yet his mother was already busily arranging his marriage. I smiled slightly. She wanted to put on a show? I would pull back the curtain and watch the play. It was only a pity… she had forgotten that I was no longer the Giang Tuyet Ngam of the past. I stood in the teahouse across from the Song mansion, slowly lifting my cup, my eyes cold as I watched the matchmakers flitting in and out like shuttles on a loom.

“Mistress, shall we return to the manor…” Xuan Tuyet whispered, her voice filled with cautious anxiety.

I smiled faintly and set down the teacup, my tone indifferent yet sharp. “What’s the rush? The good part of the play… has only just begun.”

"Song Chieu Da, are you not the most filial of sons? Well then, in this life... I want to see just how filial you remain when your own mother betrays you!"

I ordered a rumor to be spread throughout the city: “The Duke’s daughter—the young Miss Wang—is virtuous and upright, a woman whose fate brings prosperity to her husband. She is the perfect match for the top scholar.”

As expected, in less than a day… Song’s mother had rushed to invite the matchmaker, carrying carts filled with bridal gifts, and went to knock on the Wang mansion’s door herself.

“Lady Wang, your daughter is so gentle and virtuous; if she could be married into the Song family, it would be the blessing of three lifetimes for us!”

Lady Wang beamed, immediately nodding in agreement to the union. I tightened my grip on my fan, my gaze as sharp as a blade. Song Chieu Da… Song Chieu Da… Let’s see how you manage to grow old and gray with your heart’s desire now.