Chapter 2 — Sacrificed by the Heir: Reborn as Yue Zhaoyue to Avenge Sixteen Years of Injustice

The moments when he once made my heart flutter—at this very hour, they have all transformed into a farce orchestrated by my own foolish sentimentality. My elder sister wept until she was spent, then settled down beside Xie Linchu, coolly picking up my teacup to quench her thirst. And my mother, that same woman who raised me, reached out to stroke her back with a tenderness I no longer recognized.

"Shen Yuntang, stop crying," my mother urged softly, her voice thick with concern. "Your younger sister has always been sensible; she will not fight you for anything."

Xie Linchu looked at me. My father looked at me. In that moment, the realization struck me with the force of a blow. They were all waiting for me to speak. They were waiting for me to declare that I did not care for status, to swear that the events of that night were merely a regrettable accident, and to promise that I would graciously step aside to bless the union between my sister and Xie Linchu. I pulled back the blankets and stepped down from the bed. My legs were weak, trembling so violently that I nearly collapsed. My maid, Qing Xing, lunged forward to steady me, her voice shrill with anxiety.

"Young Mistress, you cannot leave your bed! The physician strictly commanded it!"

My father erupted, his voice shaking the room. "Is it your place to speak here?"

Qing Xing was terrified, collapsing to her knees, yet her grip on my arm remained iron-clad; she refused to let me go. I looked straight at my mother. "Mother, if it were my sister who had lost her virtue today, would you still be advising her to be sensible?"

The tears stopped instantly on my mother’s cheeks. Shen Yuntang slammed her teacup onto the table.

"Shen Zhaoyue, what exactly do you mean by that?"

"I never forced you," Xie Linchu added, his brow furrowed in annoyance. "Shen Zhaoyue, do not speak with such malice."

I let out a soft, dry laugh. It was likely a jarring sound, for the entire room fell into a deathly silence. "I only asked a simple question; why is that considered malicious?"

My father slammed his hand against the table, his face purpling. "You dare to talk back?"

Leaning heavily on Qing Xing, I stood steady and articulated each word with chilling clarity: "If Father finds me such an embarrassment, then tomorrow, escort me to the Grand Princess's estate. The affairs of the heir, Xie, should properly be settled by the Prince's residence."

Shen Yuntang's complexion finally shifted, a flicker of genuine alarm crossing her features. "You want to go and report us?"

I turned my gaze toward her. "What is it that my dear sister fears?"

She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Xie Linchu stood up, his robes sweeping across the porcelain shards scattered on the floor. "Shen Zhaoyue, if you are determined to create a scene before my mother, I cannot stop you. But heed this warning: anything gained through force and coercion will never last."

I nodded, my expression impassive. "The heir should take those words to heart as well."

After Xie Linchu departed, my mother wept as she reached out to grasp my hand. "Zhaoyue, why must you insist on ruining everything? Yuntang has only been home for three years and she has suffered so much. Can you not yield to her just this once?" I looked down at her hands—the same hands that once used to brush my hair with such affection. Since my sister returned, she had forgotten even my favorite hairstyle.

"Mother, I have lost my purity. Does that not count as suffering?"

She offered no reply. My father let out a cold, sharp laugh. "A woman's reputation is her life. You failed to conduct yourself properly, yet you dare use the word suffering to guilt your mother?"

Qing Xing could bear it no longer, lifting her head to protest. "Master, it was the heir who was drugged; my mistress was the one who..."

"Slap her," my father commanded.

Two matrons stepped forward, but I planted myself firmly in front of Qing Xing. "Whoever touches her, tomorrow I will go to the Grand Princess's estate, and the first thing I will tell her is that the Shen family beat a maid to death for knowing the truth."

My father pointed a trembling finger at my face. "You want to revolt?"

I did not retreat. The standoff hung in the air until Shen Yuntang suddenly burst into loud, wailing sobs. "Enough, it is all my fault. I should never have returned. If I had not come back, my sister would still be the only daughter of the Shen house, and Brother Linchu would not be caught in such a dilemma."

The words had barely left her lips before my mother pulled her into a protective embrace. "Do not speak such nonsense! You are the flesh and blood of my heart; no one is going to drive you away."

Xie Linchu, who had reached the doorway, turned back at the commotion. Shen Yuntang immediately collapsed into his arms. "Brother Linchu, I do not want to live anymore."

He held her, his eyes fixed on me as if I were a villain. "Shen Zhaoyue, are you only satisfied when you have driven your sister to her death?"

I looked at him calmly. "Which of my words forced her to that point?"

His face darkened. "You know very well she cannot handle such agitation."

"And what of me?" I asked.

He hesitated, his expression hardening. "You have always been the sensible one."

So that was it. The sensible one is expected to endure every jagged blade pressed against her skin. My sister cannot bear to be upset, but I am apparently made of steel. Her tears are the result of her grievances; mine are mere calculations. Her tantrums are the cries of a heart in love, but my demand for justice is nothing more than bottomless greed.

I returned to the daybed and pulled the quilt over my shoulders. "Everyone out. I am tired."

No one moved. I stared at my father. "Does Father wish to continue scolding me? If so, we shall go to the Prince's residence tomorrow and do it there, so the Grand Princess may hear it as well."

My father's face turned the color of stagnant ink. In the end, it was Xie Linchu who helped Shen Yuntang out of the room. As she crossed the threshold, she glanced back at me. Her face was still stained with tears, but her eyes were entirely devoid of sorrow. Her lips moved, and she whispered to me, "You cannot win against me."

I moved my own lips in silent reply: "Watch me."