Chapter 11: Bloody Squall
Silk rustled against stone as an elegantly dressed woman emerged from the main building. She glided through the parting servants with practiced grace, her violet robes catching the morning light. The woman’s painted lips curved into a practiced smile as she approached.
“Who dares intrude upon my private quarters?” Her voice dripped honey-coated venom.
Xiulan straightened her spine. “Lin Xiulan, Second Daughter of the Lin Family.” She gestured toward the trembling house manager. “This servant feared delivering the news himself, but you’ll need to relocate. I require these quarters adjacent to Concubine Lian.”
Silence descended over the courtyard. Servants froze mid-task, tea cups suspended in mid-pour. The sweet scent of incense hung thick in the still air.
Xiulan’s muscles tensed beneath her robes. Her right hand inched closer to her concealed dagger. The situation balanced on a knife’s edge—either an attack or theatrical tears seemed inevitable.
The woman surprised her by sinking into a graceful bow. “This humble one is Lan Yue. I’ll ensure the quarters are prepared for you by nightfall, though clearing more than the main building may prove challenging before then.”
Xiulan blinked, momentarily thrown off balance by the unexpected display of respect. The genuine deference in Lan Yue’s tone contained none of the barely concealed contempt she’d grown accustomed to.
Maybe I’ve been too harsh. Not everyone plots against me.
The constant pressure of recent events had pushed her toward viewing everyone as an enemy. That mindset wouldn’t serve her well—she already had enough real opponents without imagining more.
“Thank you for your understanding, Miss Lan.” Xiulan offered a slight bow. “The main quarters will suffice for today’s arrangements.” She turned toward the house manager. “Please coordinate with Miss Lan’s servants for the move and secure appropriate alternative accommodations for her.”
The house manager dropped into a deep bow. “At once, Miss Lin! I’ll see to everything immediately.”
Xiulan faced Lan Yue again. “My deepest apologies for this sudden intrusion. I’ve just returned from traveling and must pay respects to my mother.”
“Of course.” Lan Yue stepped closer, a gentle smile playing across her painted lips. “Perhaps you’d honor me with tea another time? I’d enjoy getting to know Lord Lin’s daughter better.”
The invitation caught Xiulan off guard. She studied Lan Yue’s expression, searching for hidden motives but found only polite interest. “I’d like that. Please send a note reminding one of my servants in a few days.”
Xiulan departed the courtyard, her steps measured against the stone path.
“Miss.” Mei Chen matched her pace. “Is it wise to associate with Elder Brother Jin’s mistress?”
“I don’t know.” Xiulan shrugged. “But there’s no harm in being polite.”
The familiar path to her mother’s courtyard brought a sense of peace to Xiulan’s steps. An aged servant stood at attention by the entrance, wrinkles deepening as she smiled in recognition.
“Young Miss! Welcome home.” The servant bowed deeply.
“Please inform Mother that I’ve returned and wish to see her.”
“Of course! Please, come wait inside while I notify Concubine Lian.”
Xiulan nodded to Mei Chen, and they walked the familiar route to the guest room. Silver-haired servants swept the courtyard paths and tended the gardens—loyal faces from years past. The realization struck Xiulan like a physical blow. These servants had stayed with her mother through everything, even after Madam Zhang’s rise to power.
No wonder this place always felt safe. Xiulan settled onto a cushion in the guest room. She’d spent countless hours here, sheltered from the mansion’s politics and schemes. Perhaps that explained why she’d never received her own courtyard—she already had one.
The door slid open as an older servant entered, carrying a wooden tray with steaming tea.
“Auntie Lan!” Xiulan brightened. “How have you been?”
“Well enough, Young Miss.” Lan Zhao set down the tray with practiced grace. “Though these old bones creak more each day.”
Lan Zhao turned toward Mei Chen with an approving nod. “And you, child? Have you been taking good care of our Young Miss?”
“Oh, Auntie!” Mei Chen bounced on her toes. “So much has happened! We went to the Treasure Pavilion, and—”
“Why don’t you both take some time to catch up?” Xiulan interrupted with a smile. “I can wait for Mother on my own.”
“You’re too kind, Young Miss.” Lan Zhao bowed deeply. “Concubine Lian should arrive shortly.”
Xiulan lifted the delicate porcelain cup, savoring the familiar aroma of jasmine tea.
After a brief wait, the paper door whispered open, and Xiulan’s breath caught at the sight of Zhao Lian. Dark brown hair framed bright eyes that sparkled with intelligence despite years of hardship. The simple cotton robe adorning her mother’s frame barely surpassed servant quality, yet she moved with innate grace.
“Xiulan?” Zhao Lian knelt beside her. “What brings you home so early? Are you well?”
Her carefully maintained walls crumbled. Xiulan launched forward, wrapping her arms around her mother’s shoulders. Tears spilled unbidden down her cheeks as she breathed in the comforting scent of osmanthus soap.
“I’m home, Mother.” The words came out thick with emotion.
“Shh.” Zhao Lian traced soothing circles on her back. “Everything will be alright, my dear one.”
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Oh, this is what having a mom is like. The thought was distinctly Li Mei’s.
Xiulan pulled back, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. “There’s so much I need to tell you.”
“Then let us speak properly.” Zhao Lian settled across the low table and poured herself tea with practiced movements.
The story poured out—the carriage accident, her near-death experience on the cliff face. She detailed the confrontation with her sisters, careful to omit anything about Li Mei or her previous life. The tale continued through selling her jewels, securing a proper allowance, and finally, the attempted poisoning.
Zhao Lian’s eyes widened with each revelation. The teacup trembled slightly in her grip.
Xiulan sipped her cooling tea, studying her mother’s shocked expression. For fifteen years, Zhao Lian had survived by becoming invisible, teaching Xiulan to do the same. They had dodged Madam Zhang’s schemes through careful submission and avoidance.
Now Xiulan had shattered that careful peace in less than a week.
The door slid open as Mei Chen and Lan Zhao returned, bearing plates of sesame cakes and sweet bean pastries. The familiar treats brought back memories of countless afternoons spent in this very room. They arranged the dishes with practiced efficiency before stepping back.
Zhao Lian exhaled softly, setting down her teacup. “You’ve given me much to consider, daughter. I’m relieved to see you recovered and in good health after what you went through.”
“Mother, I plan to do more than just recover.” Xiulan straightened her spine. “I won’t stay passive anymore. Things need to change.”
“Is that wise?” Zhao Lian leaned forward, dropping her voice. “The Chao family holds considerable influence in the capital. Madam Zhang’s family connections run deep—far deeper than you might realize.”
“And yet.” Xiulan picked up a sesame cake, studying its familiar pattern. “This remains the Lin Family Manor, not the Chao Family estate.”
Zhao Lian acknowledged the point with a slight nod, lifting her cup to her lips. Steam curled upward as she sipped in thoughtful silence.
“I have a shipment arriving from Treasure Pavilion in the coming days. I don’t know the exact date.” Xiulan kept her tone casual. “Could your servants secure it quietly? I’d prefer to avoid drawing attention from... certain parties.”
“Of course, daughter. My servants are yours to command whenever needed.” Zhao Lian refilled their teacups with practiced grace.
“About that...” Xiulan set down her cup. “I claimed the adjacent courtyard—the one Lan Yue occupied. I’ll need help selecting trustworthy servants, and might require some of your staff permanently.”
Tea splashed over the rim of Zhao Lian’s cup. “You... evicted her?” She dabbed at the spill with her sleeve. “Perhaps you’re moving too quickly. Did Lord Tian approve this?”
“Mother.” Xiulan straightened. “I’ve already set things in motion. Backing down now would only make future moves more difficult. This moment—while they’re still adjusting to my changes—is perfect for decisive action.”
Worry creased Zhao Lian’s brow. She opened her mouth to respond, but stopped at the sound of raised voices outside. The shouts echoed through the courtyard, growing louder by the second.
Xiulan rose from her cushion and her mother stood as well. Together they slid open the wooden door.
Lin Jin stomped through the center of the courtyard, scattering servants like startled birds. “Where is that bitch? Come out right now!”
Well, that got out faster than I imagined. Xiulan studied her enraged brother, weighing possibilities.
Had Lan Yue orchestrated this confrontation as revenge, or did this simply spring from Jin’s trademark arrogance? Either way, Madam Zhang and her sisters clearly hadn’t warned him about their recent encounters. He strutted around like always, expecting to dominate through sheer bluster.
“Young Master!” Several elderly servants blocked his path. “This behavior dishonors your station!”
“Xiulan!” Lin Jin’s face reddened as he shouted. “Come out here now! Xiulan!”
Zhao Lian stepped forward, but Xiulan extended her arm to block her mother’s path. This confrontation belonged to her. She strode into the courtyard, keeping her movements measured and controlled.
“Brother Jin.” Xiulan pitched her voice to carry across the yard. “Why do you barge into Concubine Lian’s private courtyard without an invitation? Such rudeness ill befits the eldest son.”
Lin Jin spun toward her voice. His jaw clenched as he glared at her through narrowed eyes. “Who do you think you are?” Spittle flew from his lips. “Moving Lan Yue from her rightful place! She stays exactly where she is, and you—you’ll crawl back to the servant’s quarters where you belong!”
“I will do no such thing.” Xiulan kept her posture straight and regal. “The courtyard wasn’t officially assigned. Lan Yue agreed to relocate to more suitable quarters, but the space beside Mother’s residence suits my needs perfectly.”
Lin Jin’s face turned an alarming shade of purple. Spittle flew from his lips as he screamed incoherently. The veins in his neck bulged with each incomprehensible word.
Xiulan maintained her calm demeanor, though internally she pondered the peculiarities of Madam Zhang’s bloodline. How did sweet Zhang Wei come from the same stock as this raving lunatic?
Footsteps echoed as servants rushed to witness the spectacle. Heads poked around corners and peered through windows. The crowd swelled beyond the courtyard gates, drawn by Lin Jin’s theatrical display.
“I am the Second Daughter of Lord Lin.” Xiulan’s clear voice cut through his tantrum. “If the Young Master wishes to speak with me, he will do so with proper respect—not by making a spectacle of himself before the entire household.”
The gathered crowd murmured. Several older servants nodded approvingly, while others whispered behind raised sleeves.
The metal plates of his armor clinked as Lin Jin advanced. “I am this family’s heir, and you are far beneath me! Kowtow one hundred times before I teach you a lesson!”
Xiulan planted her feet firmly on the stone courtyard. “I am our father’s daughter. I will not damage House Lin’s reputation with such a display.”
Lin Jin froze, staring at her with wild eyes.
Yes, that’s right, half-brother, I’m not a meek little—
Pain exploded across her face as metal crashed into bone. The world spun as she hit the ground hard. Warm copper filled her mouth as blood gushed from her nose.
Through blurred vision, she watched Lin Jin shove her mother aside. Zhao Lian stumbled back into the gathering crowd.
The world compressed under Lin Jin’s weight as he straddled her chest. His armored knees pinned her down. “You dare defy me?” Another gauntleted fist smashed into her cheek. Sharp metal split skin.
“Stop! You’ll kill her!” Servants screamed from the edges of the courtyard.
Lin Jin’s arm rose again. Xiulan twisted her head aside as metal cracked against stone where her face had been. The hidden dagger slipped from her sleeve into her palm. She stabbed upward, but the blade skittered off his armor with a metallic screech.
Lin Jin’s eyes widened at the flash of steel. His fist lifted for another strike.
Xiulan yanked the dagger back and drove it deep into his exposed armpit. Blood spurted as Lin Jin screeched. He gurgled and scrambled backward, leaving a crimson trail across the stones.