Chapter 28: Mother

Some time had passed since that day, the day that had tightened a painful knot in Jiang Wu’s chest.

Although Chu Ling also lived in the villa, he had his own room there. Even when not attending court, he was endlessly occupied with official matters and never came to rest with her every day.

Thus, Jiang Wu spent her days playing with the children, finding rare moments of relaxation in her heart.

The only unease was the still-unfound assassin, whose presence weighed on her mind, prompting her to caution the children daily not to wander off alone.

In recent days, Nian Yin’s throat had felt uncomfortable, accompanied by a cough—a prelude to a cold. Jiang Wu instructed the kitchen to prepare pear juice, watching as her daughter drank it each day.

That day, as was her habit, Jiang Wu went to find Nian Yin and saw from afar two figures conversing in a pavilion.

One was Nian Yin; the other, Ming Zhu.

Though the distance obscured their expressions and gestures, witnessing their closeness made Jiang Wu’s lips curve upward.

She was genuinely pleased to see the two growing closer. As she neared, she noticed they were even more intimate, sitting closer together.

Had they become this close in just a few days?

Such a thought flickered through Jiang Wu’s mind as she passed a pillar by the corridor—just two small steps across. Yet, in those two steps, her gaze caught a sudden scene: her daughter falling into the water.

At that moment, her emotions defied description.

“Nian Yin!” she screamed, rushing forward, casting aside all decorum and grace. She did not even realize how fast she was running. Only one thought filled her heart: she must not let Nian Yin be harmed.

By the pond, Mo Mingzhu looked stunned. Though still regaining her composure, upon seeing Jiang Wu sprinting and about to jump into the water, she immediately grasped her wrist.

“Let go!” The woman’s sharp, anxious, angry tone, alongside her accusatory and even hostile gaze, were unlike anything Mo Mingzhu had ever shown her.

She did not ask what had happened but instinctively sided with her biological daughter, assuming she had done something wrong.

Mo Mingzhu clenched her teeth tightly, suppressing a sudden ache in her heart and an inexplicable urge to cry, holding firmly onto the struggling Jiang Wu.

“Madam,” she said, feigning calm after a moment, “You cannot swim. I will rescue her.”

Jiang Wu froze, unable to react before Mo Mingzhu had already leapt into the water.

Her mind was almost incapable of thought; only tears flowed uncontrollably from her shock and worry, wiped away in a chaotic manner.

Watching the lake’s surface settle after Mo Mingzhu’s plunge, a fleeting thought crossed Jiang Wu’s mind: Did Mingzhu push her? Would she truly save Nian Yin? What if she deliberately didn’t? What would become of her daughter? Such thoughts sent cold sweat breaking out over her.

But, as Mo Mingzhu had said, Jiang Wu could not swim, and there were no other servants about. For a moment, she was at a loss.

Fortunately, this anxiety did not last long. Soon, the still pond stirred, and Mo Mingzhu pulled Chu Nian Yin above the water.

Accustomed to hard labor and trained in martial arts, lifting such a delicate girl ashore was no trouble for her.

As Mo Mingzhu reached the shore with Nian Yin, Jiang Wu rushed over.

“Nian Yin!”

Pushed aside, Ming Zhu stepped back a few paces.

Jiang Wu’s entire focus was on her daughter, holding her tightly and crying. Those tears stirred an inexplicable irritation in Mo Mingzhu’s heart.

She remembered the disdainful smile on Chu Nian Yin’s face when she had fallen into the water.

“Your name is Ming Zhu,” she thought.

“The precious pearl in someone’s palm?”

“Do you know what that means?”

“It means she will always, unconditionally, run to you no matter what.”

She pictured Jiang Wu rushing over, just as the cunning girl had described.

Jiang Wu would never believe that her daughter had pushed her; Ming Zhu knew there was no use saying anything.

More and more servants gathered.

Mo Mingzhu’s injury on her back dated back to the assassination attempt on Chu Ling a few days prior. The plan had been hastily set in motion, but the rare opportunity prompted its execution.

No one expected that the corrupt official, despite being unaccompanied and having twisted his ankle, would hold his own, killing over a dozen of their brothers. Mo Mingzhu herself had barely escaped after being stabbed in the back.

Unable to treat the wound there, the recent plunge into water aggravated it. Fearing bloodstains would draw attention, Mo Mingzhu stole a final glance at them before slipping away amid the chaos.

***

Jiang Wu’s heart ached as she looked at her pale daughter, lips tinged with blue.

Nian Yin had a preexisting heart condition. What if it worsened?

Her heart ached with guilt, tears flowing continuously. Fortunately, the girl was conscious, clutching Jiang Wu’s sleeve and calling “Mother.”

Jiang Wu could not bear it, holding her tightly as she cried and called for the doctor.

After the ensuing chaos, Nian Yin was finally settled. The doctor said she originally had a slight cold, now possibly worsened but not severe.

Still, Jiang Wu stayed by her bedside.

Since learning of Nian Yin’s heart condition, she had studied many related medical texts. Some said even a mild cold could be fatal. How could she rest easy?

Chu Ye sat beside her, comforting her: “Mother, Nian Yin has been nurtured carefully. She won’t be so fragile.”

Jiang Wu nodded but still cried.

When Nian Yin awoke from her rest, she saw her mother’s reddened eyes, still wiping away tears.

Her own eyes reddened instantly as she grasped Jiang Wu’s hand and whispered, “Mother.”

The words pierced the air, and tears fell.

Seeing her daughter cry again, Jiang Wu’s anxiety surged. She grasped Nian Yin’s hand tightly, trying to keep her tone gentle despite her worry: “What’s wrong, Nian Yin? Tell Mother—where does it hurt?”

But the gentler she was, the more fierce the tears streamed. Nian Yin remained silent, choking as she repeated her apologies.

Jiang Wu sensed her need to vent but feared she might worsen her condition.

“Mother,” after calming slightly, Nian Yin finally spoke beyond apologies, “I’m just afraid you’ll abandon me again. I’m afraid you’ll leave me. I hate Ming Zhu.”

Jiang Wu was stunned.

She had thought the two were growing closer, never imagining that closeness was merely a façade.

She had only thought of herself—who would want to share the love meant only for them? Even if Nian Yin grew closer to her grandmother, jealousy would sting her heart.

After all, she was still a child; she could not hide her feelings for long. Now, all her worries poured out at once.

Chu Ye frowned but merely patted his sister’s head.

Jiang Wu sighed, coaxing Nian Yin for some time before finally lulling her to sleep. Night had deepened, yet no sign of the children’s father arriving.

After several attempts, Chu Ye convinced Jiang Wu to return to her room.

They parted at Nian Yin’s door.

Walking back alone, Jiang Wu’s servants kept their distance as she had instructed.

Her thoughts were chaotic.

She had panicked upon seeing Nian Yin fall into the water, naturally neglecting all else.

Now calm, reflecting on Nian Yin’s reaction, she pieced together much of what had happened.

Ming Zhu’s injured gaze became clearer in her mind.

Guilty for the dark thoughts she had once entertained, Jiang Wu’s heart tightened with remorse.

Lost in thought, she looked up and realized she was not near her own courtyard but Ming Zhu’s.

The lights inside were out. She stood there a while until Zhizhi, worried about her, approached cautiously.

“Madam, shall I knock?”

“No,” Jiang Wu sighed. “It’s late; they must have already gone to bed.”

It would be improper to disturb them.

Carrying such a matter in her heart, returning meant no peace. Already accustomed to insomnia, her sleep only worsened.

Drifting between sleep and wakefulness, she vaguely heard a commotion outside and awoke sharply.

Listening carefully, she caught words about an assassin and pursuit.

She sat up immediately.

Jiang Wu had not forgotten the assassin hidden in the villa.

The assassin targeted Chu Ling, true, but who knew if innocents might be harmed? Worried for her children, she rose, bitterly regretting ever coming to the villa.

Nothing had gone smoothly.

She slipped on her shoes in the dim light. Outside brightened as they searched her courtyard; a maid responded nearby.

Jiang Wu hurried over, hand on the door: “Ass…”

She barely uttered a sound before a window suddenly opened.

Though the noise was slight, in her startled stillness, a figure rolled in and swiftly closed in beside her.

A sharp weapon pressed against her waist, nudging slightly without breaking skin but clearly a threat.

Everything happened too fast; Jiang Wu lost the best chance to call for help, only the thought formed in her mind: The assassin had come to her.

“Madam?” The voice outside hadn’t heard the window, but surely Jiang Wu’s brief sound. “Did we wake you?”

Jiang Wu steadied her breath, still groggy: “What’s going on?”

“Madam, the assassin in the villa has appeared, and we are ordered to capture her.”

“Are the young master and miss safe?”

“Yes. The assassin fled from the master’s side.”

She had asked about Chu Ye and Nian Yin but forgot Chu Ling. Whether he would mind, she did not know. It no longer mattered. Knowing the children were safe, and the assassin here, the danger lessened. She dismissed them swiftly.

“Very well, continue the pursuit. Protect the young master and miss.”

The guards replied affirmatively but lingered, hesitating before cautiously asking, “Madam, the assassin is cunning. She may be hiding nearby. May we enter and search?”

The blade at her waist pressed harder, still not drawing blood.

The torchlight outside illuminated the room somewhat. Jiang Wu glanced sideways, catching only a flash of black clothing.

Before she could speak, Zhizhi nearly cursed, “How dare you!”

He surely dared not enter without orders from Chu Ling. No one would risk it.

Though Jiang Wu despised this, Chu Ling’s firm rule had its effect. Anyone who displeased her faced harsh punishment, and over time, everyone knew offending Jiang Wu brought worse consequences than offending Chu Ling.

After Zhizhi’s harsh words, the guards quietly left.

Jiang Wu also stopped the maids attempting to enter.

The weapon at her waist withdrew slightly.

Tentatively, Jiang Wu voiced her suspicion: “Ming Zhu?”

The black-clad figure froze, motionless for a long moment.

Taking advantage of the hesitation, Jiang Wu turned, locking eyes with the exposed gaze.

She knew she was right.

Jiang Wu possessed an extraordinary acuity in reading people.

Breath, aura, posture, footsteps—all combined to let her quickly recognize someone, especially someone familiar.

Before her stood the assassin she had known for years—Ming Zhu—stirring complex feelings within Jiang Wu.

Knowing she could no longer deny it, Ming Zhu swiftly sheathed the small knife she had not drawn.

Removing her mask, she looked at Jiang Wu apologetically.

“Forgive me, Madam.”

She would not truly harm Jiang Wu—not that the thought made sense, but Ming Zhu meant it. Even if Jiang Wu handed her over, she would not hurt her.

She just hadn’t expected to be recognized so quickly.

Seeing it was truly Ming Zhu, Jiang Wu’s mind spun. She knew she should ask questions—Did she harbor a grudge against Chu Ling? Why was she here? To assassinate him? And more...

Too many questions. Yet, Jiang Wu’s first words were: “I’m sorry.”

Even Ming Zhu was taken aback.

Jiang Wu realized what she most wanted to say—the words she had pondered all night—were these. She spoke them all at once.

“I know Nian Yin’s falling into the water has nothing to do with you. I’m sorry. I was too anxious and wrongly blamed you, even got angry. You saved Nian Yin; thank you, Ming Zhu.”

A brief silence followed.

Moonlight filtered through the open window, illuminating Ming Zhu standing a few steps away.

The young girl’s eyes reddened, as if her grievances finally found release, yet her head bowed slightly, feet together, hands uncertain where to rest—obedient yet pitiable.

Jiang Wu’s heart ached. The lonely figure made her want to embrace the child, but she could not. They both knew she could not see her as before.

A girl barely two or three years older than her son, at an age meant to be safely cherished, yet now linked to an assassin—how could it be?

After a long silence, Jiang Wu steeled herself:

“Leave. I won’t tell anyone about today. Tomorrow, I’ll find a way to send you away.”

These words only reddened Ming Zhu’s eyes further, but she nodded and moved toward the window.

After a few steps, Jiang Wu called out, “Wait.”

Ming Zhu stopped.

“You’re hurt?” Jiang Wu smelled blood. She refused to believe this blood could harm Chu Ling. Thinking Ming Zhu must be injured, she could not ignore it.

“No...” the weak voice faltered under Jiang Wu’s gaze. “Just a little hurt.”

Jiang Wu stepped closer: “Where?”

After a long pause, Ming Zhu confessed, “My back.”

So Jiang Wu secretly fetched medicine and bandages to tend the wound.

Luckily, though she lacked formal supplies, she had various precious powders and ointments.

When Ming Zhu exposed her back, Jiang Wu bit her lip to keep silent, but tears streamed down instantly.

The wound was ghastly, a long slash nearly from shoulder blade to mid-waist—how could she not be heartbroken for the child she had cherished?

Parts of the skin and flesh were turned outward, some even festering.

Jiang Wu nearly sobbed aloud.

“You child... how...” Her heart ached and panicked. She carefully applied medicine, each touch seeming to transmit pain; yet Ming Zhu remained silent.

She had always known the child suffered—from poverty, wandering, lack of a mother—but now realized Ming Zhu had endured even greater, unknown hardships as an assassin from such a tender age.

“This wasn’t hurt today, right?” Jiang Wu asked, knowing better than to be naive. “Were you the assassin who fled through the back mountain?”

After silence, Ming Zhu admitted, “Yes.”

No wonder she had looked pale these past days, and why she risked her body to save Nian Yin. The wound was difficult to treat alone and had worsened while trapped in the villa.

Jiang Wu’s thoughts tumbled.

“Chu Ling is searching for you. Didn’t you know? Why did you come out?”

Ming Zhu answered everything truthfully: “I heard there was a survivor. I wanted to rescue them.”

Jiang Wu was silent for a long moment before saying, “I was there that day. There is no survivor. It was a false rumor spread by Chu Ling to deceive you.”

Ming Zhu likely realized this and remained silent.

As they spoke, Jiang Wu finished roughly bandaging the wound. Ming Zhu dressed again, handing Jiang Wu a chaotic bundle of medicines.

“There should be something to remove scars inside. Remember to use it. Girls shouldn’t bear scars.”

Ming Zhu hesitated but accepted.

Jiang Wu knew her makeshift bandaging was inadequate; Ming Zhu needed a proper doctor soon. Getting out quickly was most important.

After tidying the mess from treating her wound, Ming Zhu looked at Jiang Wu cautiously.

“Well... I’m leaving now.”

Jiang Wu nodded.

She sat still, hearing Ming Zhu’s final “Sorry” before departing.

Not “Thank you,” but “Sorry.” For what? Jiang Wu did not ask.

There were still many questions left unasked—Did she approach Jiang Wu only to assassinate Chu Ling? Did her father know of her deeds?

But no matter how she thought, none came out.

Jiang Wu disliked overthinking; the most she pondered was how to deceive Chu Ling.

Yet now, even with a dull mind, some things slowly became clear.

She did not know what emotions she felt—betrayal, anger at deceit—none stirred. Only an unprecedented exhaustion and confusion remained.

After all, she thought, it was still Chu Ling’s fault.