Volume One, Chapter Five: Still That Gentle and Kind-Hearted Sister

The snow was bitter, and Qingzhu, worried for her mistress, could only stand there, dazed and sobbing silently.

"The Second Miss just returned, having already taken a blade to save the Eldest Miss, and now she's being forced to kneel. Her life is hanging by a thread..." murmured one of the few servants in the manor who still possessed a conscience, her heart heavy with injustice.

By the time Duke Su and the Madame arrived, Su Zhizhi looked as though she had only a single breath left.

Having calculated the time perfectly—the incense stick had burned to its end—it was time for Su Wanwan to wake. Su Zhizhi kept her eyes closed, enduring the bone-chilling cold. It was time for her to make her appearance.

"You wretch, Su Zhizhi, how could you possibly..."

"Father, Mother, Eldest Brother, Second Brother, Third Brother, why are you all here?"

Su Wanwan looked down, only to discover Su Zhizhi lying on the snow like a corpse. Duke Su had no desire to hear any of Su Wanwan's excuses. Could his own eyes deceive him? No matter how lowly Su Zhizhi’s status might be, she had just saved his daughter’s life and was injured; would she really be foolish enough to throw her life away just to play dead in front of his daughter’s quarters?

"Your Grace, Madame, my mistress had only just regained consciousness when she ordered osmanthus cakes to be made to pay her respects and thank the Eldest Miss. She even specifically wore a maid's dress, hoping the Eldest Miss would forgive her for having occupied her identity all these years. But the Eldest Miss drove my mistress out and forced her to kneel outside ever since."

As the words fell, Su Wanwan swung a slap at Qingzhu. "You lowly wench! How dare you spout such nonsense and slander me? Are you tired of living?"

"Father, Mother, listen to your daughter's explanation, Zhizhi sister, she herself..." Su Wanwan, losing her composure, began to scream like a shrew. Was this really the Su Wanwan they knew? Everyone present was shocked.

Duke Su waved his sleeve, his first display of anger toward Su Wanwan. "Go to Wanxin Pavilion and reflect on your actions. Without my order, you are not to step one foot outside."

Suddenly placed under house arrest, Su Wanwan felt aggrieved. It had always been she who wronged others; she had never been wronged herself. "Su Zhizhi, stop playing dead! Wake up and explain this to Father and Mother!"

The brothers saw their sister’s frantic, ugly behavior for the first time—it looked exactly like how Su Zhizhi used to act.

"Reporting to the Duke and Madame, I fear the Second Miss is in grave danger." The words of Dr. Wang, who had hurried over, completely enraged the Duke. A heavy slap landed squarely on Su Wanwan’s face.

"There were only three days left! Could you not even wait three days? Without Su Zhizhi, who will marry in your place? Su Zhizhi was meant to die for you!"

Duke Su ordered Dr. Wang to save her at all costs and then stormed off. The goose-down snow fell heavier and heavier, a chill seeping deep into the soul. This performance had allowed Su Zhizhi to see through the hearts of men.

Before the servants could even lift her, her eldest brother, Su Heng, picked her up from the snow, his heart aching. He remembered that when she was a child, Zhizhi feared the cold more than anything. Now, with the Duke’s manor full of treacherous hearts and the position of heir still undecided, Su Zhizhi’s life in this house had become harder than ever.

If she were married off to the Prince of Jin, there was no telling if she would even survive. A sudden wave of guilt washed over Su Heng, his brow furrowed in deep distress.

Third Brother, Su Wen, sneered from the side, "What a pity. If she dies just like that, who will marry in our little sister’s place? Brother, you must ensure this fake sister of ours is healed. Even if she must die, it should be three days from now, after she has married into the Prince of Jin’s household."

Su Wen’s words were colder than the wintry air. Hearing this, Su Zhizhi felt her heart bleeding.

Before long, she caught the scent of roses. She was back in Jingyan Pavilion, lying on a hard bed. Only Qingzhu remained to watch over her. The eldest brother, who had carried her back, had already rushed off to Wanxin Pavilion; his own sister was under house arrest, and he had to go comfort her.

Half an incense stick later, Qingzhu, watching by the bed, noticed her mistress’s lips move and her hand slowly rise.

"Water..." a faint voice rasped.

Qingzhu wiped her tears, her heart finally seeing a glimmer of light. She had simmered the bone broth several times. "Miss, you scared me to death. I thought..."

Su Zhizhi reached out to wipe Qingzhu’s tears. "Don't cry. I told you, your mistress has accumulated too much virtue; I am destined to live to ninety-nine."

After the warm broth, Su Zhizhi whispered, "Qingzhu, I have something to tell you." She murmured a few words into Qingzhu’s ear. Qingzhu nodded repeatedly; she had been clever since childhood, and though she didn't fully understand her mistress's intent, she knew whatever her mistress said must be right.

The room was filled with curling smoke as Su Zhizhi lay back down and closed her eyes. Since the Su family was heartless, she would not be blamed for being ruthless.

When Dr. Wang brought the medicine from the pharmacy, Qingzhu secretly handed him fifty taels of gold. "Dr. Wang, my mistress’s illness must be due to the hunger and cold she endured over these years. She often says that since she must marry into the Prince of Jin’s household in three days, if she is truly to follow him, she doesn't want to be a sickly ghost."

"I heard my mistress say the Master of the Yongming Pavilion in the capital can cure her. Please, Dr. Wang, beg the Duke and Madame to save my mistress’s life."

On the bed, Su Zhizhi looked deathly pale, her breathing shallow. Qingzhu pleaded in a low voice, "Please, Doctor..."

Dr. Wang was a kind man, but he also loved wealth. He hesitated, pondered for a moment, accepted the gold, and nodded in agreement.

Duke Su, hearing the doctor's suggestion, was torn. If Su Zhizhi truly died, all his plans would fall through. Treating a dead horse as if it were still alive, he steeled his heart and agreed to send her to the Yongming Pavilion for treatment.

Since the new Master had taken over four years ago, the Yongming Pavilion had expanded to become the premier institution in the capital. With countless disciples and ears everywhere, even the Emperor himself had to show a degree of respect to the Pavilion. It was said the Master always wore a mask and never revealed his true face.

Those who sought the Master’s prescriptions either needed vast sums of money or immense sincerity.

Eldest Brother Su Heng escorted Su Zhizhi. Aside from Qingzhu, he was the only one who hoped she would survive. The disciples at the Pavilion took one look and ordered the servants to carry the patient inside. "Only the Second Miss is permitted to enter; all others must withdraw."

Su Heng had no choice but to wait outside. A short while later, a disciple emerged. "The Master has decreed: to save your Second Miss, you must offer one thousand taels of gold."

"One thousand taels of gold?" Su Heng was stunned.

The disciple looked impatient. "If you cannot afford the silver but expect our Master to treat her personally, you are dreaming!"

One thousand taels of gold to save the life of a fake daughter. Duke Su was the first to object. The second and third brothers were also unwilling; that much gold was enough to cover the manor’s expenses for several years.

Su Wanwan, restless in Wanxin Pavilion, grew even more frantic upon hearing the news. "No, Su Zhizhi cannot die! If she dies, the one who will have to marry the Prince of Jin is me!"

Ignoring all attempts to stop her, she ran to the main hall and knelt, knocking her head three times. "Father, Mother, Zhizhi sister risked her life to save me; we cannot just watch her die."

Su Wanwan was still the gentle, kind sister they knew. The brothers were deeply moved. The Madame, unable to bear her own daughter's distress, advised, "The Prince of Jin’s betrothal gift is five hundred taels of gold; with our own dowry, why wouldn't it be enough?"

Originally, these gifts and dowries were meant for Su Wanwan, but if Su Zhizhi died, Su Wanwan would be doomed too. Duke Su, heart aching over the money, did not want his dream of becoming the Emperor's father-in-law to vanish. He gritted his teeth and agreed.

Half an hour later, Su Heng arrived at the Yongming Pavilion with the heavy gold. Once outside, he was called in by a disciple. The interior of the Pavilion was surprisingly simple and unadorned. Commoners were waiting in line in an orderly fashion to receive medicine.

Su Heng asked an old man, "Elder, how much gold did you spend for this treatment?"

The old man looked confused. "What gold? The doctors at the Yongming Pavilion treat us for free, not asking for a single coin."

"What? Not taking a single coin?"