“You disgrace—!”
The woman above slammed the table in fury, though it seemed more like she wished to slap Minmin across the face.
“You were the only one who went to Zhuer’s courtyard yesterday. Today, Zhuer finds her night-luminescent pearl missing, and it was discovered in your room. If it wasn’t you, did someone else plant it there?
“How could you be so shameless?
“If you wanted a night-luminescent pearl, you could have come to me—I would have given you one! But how dare you covet something the prince gifted to your sister?”
Huang Yaning wanted to bury her head in her hands and sob. She couldn’t bear to watch this anymore…
At what point in her past life had she completely given up on Minmin?
It must have been this moment.
Minmin had just returned to the estate, and in quick succession, she had “scalded” Sheng Mingzhu’s hand, “pushed” her into the water, and “drove away” two tutors…
Now, Huang Yaning knew those incidents had all been orchestrated by Sheng Mingzhu—but in her past life, she hadn’t.
Back then, she had assumed Minmin resented Sheng Mingzhu for stealing her rightful place, her wealth and status, and that was why she acted out.
In her mind, Minmin had been branded as wild, vulgar, stupid, and utterly unfit for high society.
Yet, despite all that, she had still cared for her biological daughter in some small way.
The moment she truly gave up on Minmin was now.
It was the moment the entire household learned that her own flesh and blood had sticky fingers—that she had stolen Sheng Mingzhu’s belongings…
Huang Yaning felt it with painful clarity: Minmin was a stain she could never scrub away… a disgrace.
She even regretted giving birth to Minmin, wishing Sheng Mingzhu had been her real daughter instead.
Or better yet—what if Minmin had never returned to the estate?
“Apologize to your sister and the prince at once!”
“It wasn’t me—”
“You wretched thing! If I’d known you’d turn out like this… I’d have rather never borne you!
“You lot—hold Seventh Miss down and make her apologize to Sixth Miss and His Highness!”
Soon, several matrons stepped forward, dragging Minmin toward Sheng Mingzhu and Zhu Qisheng.
She caught the flash of gloating in Sheng Mingzhu’s eyes—and the prince’s cold, disdainful gaze, as if looking down at an insect…
Huang Yaning wanted to rush forward and tear them apart with her teeth!
But she could do nothing. She felt Minmin’s limbs pinned down, her head forced forward by two rough hands until her forehead pressed against the icy stone floor…
No matter how hard Minmin struggled, she couldn’t break free.
And so, in this humiliating position—half-kneeling, half-prostrating—Minmin was presented before Sheng Mingzhu and Zhu Qisheng.
A sudden realization struck Huang Yaning: Not in this life, nor the next, nor the one after… would Minmin ever forgive her.
The thought was so agonizing it stole her breath.
She couldn’t bear to stay here any longer, to keep watching…
Because she already knew what came next.
In her past life, foolish and manipulated by Sheng Mingzhu’s provocations and Zhu Qisheng’s veiled threats, she had said countless cruel things to Minmin.
She had even punished her by making her kneel in the ancestral hall for a full day and night, forbidding anyone from bringing her food or water.
As she was dragged away, Minmin hung her head, hot tears spilling silently onto the path.
She didn’t dare cry aloud—didn’t want to give Sheng Mingzhu the satisfaction of seeing her break.
Two matrons tossed Minmin into the frigid ancestral hall and locked the door from the outside.
No one came for her the entire night.
How stupid she had been in her past life! Even if she hadn’t explicitly forbidden it, no one would have dared bring Minmin so much as a drop of water. How laughable that she hadn’t understood that.
When Huang Yaning awoke, her knees still throbbed with a bone-deep ache, and her heart felt as though it had been stabbed a dozen times…
“I’m sorry…”
The truth was, she had lost her real daughter long, long ago…
Huang Yaning collapsed onto the straw pile, weeping uncontrollably.
She cried until her voice grew hoarse.
The commotion in the woodshed caught the attention of Wang Baozi, who had gotten up to relieve himself. Hurriedly unlocking the door, he stepped inside.
“Little wife, why’re you cryin’?”
The moment he entered, Huang Yaning was hit by the strange, unidentifiable stench that clung to Wang Baozi—something sour, like spoiled food.
“Ah, little wife, don’t cry. You’re still young, gotta take care of yourself so you can grow up healthy and bear us some sons…”
The words churned her stomach with disgust.
How old was she even now?
The Wang father and son kept calling her “little wife,” always going on about childbirth…
The Zhang family had treated her like a slave—a beast of burden, a breeding tool.
But the Wangs saw her as merchandise! They didn’t beat or abuse her, but they never treated her as a human being either.
The way they looked at her was like staring at a golden-egg-laying hen…
They were just biding their time, waiting for her to grow up so she could bear their children—and then they’d “rent” her out to others for the same purpose…
Huang Yaning couldn’t decide which was worse—the Zhangs or the Wangs.
“Stay away from me—!” she rasped.
Of course, Wang Baozi paid no heed to the protests of a mere commodity. He plopped down on the “bed”—really just a pile of straw—and began “comforting” her in his own way…
Huang Yaning had already tried reasoning with the Wangs, begging, crying, pleading…
But they were immovable, their hearts as hard as iron.
Old Man Wang had once chuckled and said, “We’d like to let you go, sure—but who’ll give us sons then? Without sons, what’ll we do when we’re old…?”
“Letting you go is out of the question. If you behave, maybe I won’t rent you out in the future…”
Even when Huang Yaning went to the bathroom, one of the father and son pair would always be nearby, keeping watch…
And Huang Yaning no longer dared to act out—otherwise, Wang Baozi would tie her up, claiming it was for her own safety.
The last time, Wang Baozi had bound her to a post for a full day and night. When she tried starving herself in protest, he pried her mouth open and forced food inside.
Finally, when she could no longer hold her bladder and begged to be let down, Wang Baozi just grinned, brought over a bucket, and offered to help her undress…
Terrified out of her wits, Huang Yaning had stopped openly defying the Wangs after that.
“Get out. I won’t cry anymore—”
She wiped her tears, forcing her voice to sound calm.
She was afraid of provoking Wang Baozi—his mind worked differently from normal people’s, and if she upset him, she’d be the one to suffer for it.
“Alright, alright, as long as my little wife stops crying…”
“Is the straw warm enough? Or should I sleep here with you—”
Huang Yaning nearly choked on her fury. Gritting her teeth, she snapped,
“If you don’t leave, I won’t sleep at all tonight! And if I don’t rest well, my health will suffer—then it’ll be your fault if I can’t bear you a son!”
“Tch—such nonsense! Fine, I’ll go. Rest well…”
Finally managing to shoo away the detestable Wang Baozi, Huang Yaning didn’t dare cry anymore.
Her heart felt soaked in bitterness, heavy with despair.
She still had no idea where this remote mountain hollow was located or how far it was from the capital. All she knew was that it was an isolated, impoverished place.
Only a few households lived here, and the way they looked at her was the way one might appraise livestock.
No one here would ever help her escape.
After much agonizing, she’d thought of only one possible plan: bribing the two men with the money she’d hidden behind Taohua Village.
But when she tentatively brought it up, they’d just grinned at her with dull, stubborn amusement, as if to say, “Nice try—you’re not tricking us into taking you down the mountain.”
It nearly made her collapse in frustration.
What Huang Yaning didn’t know was that Xiong San had already warned the father and son: As long as they didn’t lay a hand on her without permission, they’d receive two taels of silver every year.
Compared to some dubious stash of silver promised by a young girl, the word of that black-clothed man was far more reliable.
Even if the man never paid them, they’d still gained a “little wife” out of the deal.
People like them, hardened by poverty, weren’t greedy. They didn’t believe in grand, invisible promises—only what they could see and touch right in front of them.
So Huang Yaning’s words held no appeal for them.
It left her utterly hopeless, with no idea how to escape. Her only remaining lifeline was Uncle Zhao and Auntie Zhao…
