58

As Prince Zhao’s clear and melodious voice faded away, the expressions of the several people in the courtyard changed in silence.

"I have heard that the Meng family has two daughters: the eldest is gentle and accomplished, while the younger is aloof and untamed. Yet, as I see it, it is precisely this untamed little lady who possesses a unique charm, stirring one's imagination."

......

The breeze rustling through the pines and rustling the leaves sounded leisurely. Schools of fish were faintly visible swimming in the stream that encircled the small courtyard. Early spring was fast approaching, and vitality filled every corner.

Prince Zhao’s imperial carriage had long since departed. The noisy chirping of insects in the courtyard rang incessantly, almost drowning out the soft, fragmented sobbing of the young woman.

Madam Qiao gently cradled Meng Qingyue in her arms, yet her eyes locked onto the girl with the fierce intensity of a hawk. At this moment, she was too angry to utter any interrogation; her gaze held only a towering, terrifying fury.

She had originally thought Meng Qingyue merely possessed a rebellious temperament and a rather difficult disposition. As an elder, she had no desire to bicker with a junior over every little thing.

Yet she never, in her wildest dreams, imagined that Meng Qingyue would hook up with Prince Zhao right under her very nose!

Prince Zhao!

That was the prospective son-in-law she had selected for her own daughter over a decade ago. She had watched him grow up over the years, and she was genuinely satisfied with this exceptionally talented and handsome prospective son-in-law.

Just as her own daughter was about to return, right at the final hurdle, she had been outmaneuvered by Meng Qingyue! How could her heart not harbor bitter resentment?

What was more, Meng Qingyue was already betrothed to Xian'er at this very moment!

How could this woman be so fickle, clinging to the title of her son's fiancée while trying to snatch her daughter's betrothed?

Madam Qiao was practically choking with rage. She gripped her fine brocade robes so tightly that they crumpled into a ball, yet it could not dispel even one percent of the vexation in her heart.

"Someone come!"

On the other side, Prince Zhao stepped down from his carriage in high spirits, intending to stroll through the streets before returning to the palace.

His personal attendant, Yueying, followed closely behind him. After several hesitating attempts to speak, Yueying finally couldn't hold back and asked, "Your Highness... when we were at the Duke’s Manor just now, why did you say that you favored the Second Miss Meng...?"

Prince Zhao raised an eyebrow and asked, "Why shouldn't I have said that? Is there any woman in this world that this prince cannot fancy?"

Yueying pulled a bitter face.

Clearly, before heading to the Duke's Manor, His Highness had repeatedly stated that Meng Qingyue had saved his life, and if the opportunity arose in the future, he ought to repay her with everything he had.

So what on earth was the scene made at the Duke's Manor just now?

Yueying truly could not comprehend it, so he had no choice but to honestly ask again.

Prince Zhao slightly restrained his expression, instantly putting away his smiling demeanor, and calmly spoke:

"Though I know not why she is betrothed to Heir Qiao yet used a sachet to hint that I should take her into my inner chambers, it's just..."

He paused, a hint of aloofness coloring his tone, "It's just that she saved my life. If she truly wishes to break her engagement and marry another, then I will grant her wish!"

"However, this prince truly dislikes such a fickle and inconstant person. Moreover, she ought to learn that the palace gates and royal mansions are by no means as easy to enter as she imagines!"

"If she wishes to serve by my side, she must produce her chips. Let me see how she navigates her way through such a crisis against Madam Qiao and secures her own survival. Otherwise, why on earth should I marry a good-for-nothing into my household?"

The sound of the wind in the courtyard gradually died away. The sun grew warmer, and the ice along the veranda completely melted into a puddle of slush.

Madam Qiao sat coldly on the veranda, looking down at the tightly bound young woman lying just a few inches away, her expression devoid of the slightest bit of pity.

"Have all the instructions been given?"

A hint of reluctance flashed across Mama Li's eyes, and with a soft sigh, she replied, "All instructions have been given. The matrons will arrive shortly. They have spent decades in this line of work and are most experienced in examining an unmarried woman's chastity."

Madam Qiao nodded.

Then she raised her eyes to look at Meng Qingyue, whose expression was growing increasingly terrified, her tone colder than the icicles hanging from the eaves.

"Since you dared to aspire to Prince Zhao, you should have known that the consequences are more than you can bear! Once the matrons examine your chastity today, if you are still a virgin, I will grant you the position of Xian'er's honored concubine—"

Do not harbor any illusions about the status of a legitimate wife! The Qiao family boasts a century-old lineage and will never welcome a two-faced woman as its matriarch!"

"If you are no longer a virgin..." Madam Qiao paused, a flash of glacial coldness crossing her eyes.

Meng Qingyue was bound tightly with coarse hemp ropes, her hands miserably restrained behind her back. She stared blankly at Madam Qiao, her eyes rapidly welling up with tears.

She wanted to say something, but a pair of foul, unknown shoes had been rudely shoved into her mouth, wedged tightly in her throat so that she could neither spit them out nor swallow them down.

Yet she still wanted to ask, to ask this woman whom she perhaps ought to call mother: if she were indeed found not to be a virgin, how did she plan to punish her?

Drowning her in a pig cage? Or whipping her?

Perhaps Meng Qingyue’s gaze was far too plaintive and sorrowful, causing even Madam Qiao to slightly knit her brows and instinctively look away.

Meng Changle watched eagerly from the side. Seeing Madam Qiao's hesitation, she chimed in, "If it is examined and the younger sister is not a virgin, what will my aunt do then?"

What would she do?

Meng Qingyue was, after all, a daughter of the Meng family; what could she really do to her?

Madam Qiao tightly knitted her brows. Catching sight of Meng Changle's still-swollen eyes, she hardened her heart, let out a cold laugh, and spoke:

"Although I am not your Meng family elder, the prestige of the Duke's Manor still stands. If I were to allow a daughter of the Meng family to bully a daughter of the Qiao family, I would feel utterly ashamed to face the ancestors of the Qiao clan!"

"If this undisciplined, cheap wench has truly lost her chastity to Prince Zhao! Then she certainly cannot be kept. I will send you back to the Meng family and let the Marquis and Marchioness of Huainan shear off your hair and make a nun of you!"

Shear off her hair and make a nun of her.

Meng Qingyue never expected to hear such words twice within a single month—once from the adoptive mother who had cherished her for years, and once from the biological mother who showed such genuine affection for her own daughter.

She smiled.

As she smiled, two streams of hot tears rolled down her cheeks.