Xingniang wiped away her tears, and with a voice shaking slightly, she gritted her teeth and said, "Fine, I won't stop you. If Wife insists on leaving, I will simply follow and serve you. I have not taken good care of Wife, and it's about time I confess my failure to Lady."
"This slave will follow you too!" Wan Lu was also deeply hurt by Xingniang's words.
A vicious glint appeared in Ran Meiyu's eyes. No matter what, Ran Yan's death was not on her hands; all the maids around her could testify to that. So, she thought, it might be best if she just let her die!
Ran Yan saw through her thoughts in an instant and sneered, "You expect to use a personal maid to testify for you? They're all your people; who would believe them? Can you silence everyone's gossip? Let me tell you, Ran Meiyu, even if I were to die, I'd make sure to drag your reputation down with me. I don't have many days left to live anyway. You've come here to take the fall with me, and I couldn't be happier!"
Ran Meiyu was indeed intimidated by Ran Yan's crazed demeanor. It was a time of peace, and as a sheltered young lady, she was naturally very afraid of bloodshed. Moreover, she was here today; if Ran Yan were to die, no matter what the truth was, she knew rumors would be unavoidable. With this in mind, Ran Meiyu began to hesitate.
Ran Yan laughed hollowly, her appearance becoming crazier by the moment, "Get out! If you hadn't pushed me too far, I wouldn't have dragged you to die with me. If you don't leave now, you'll never get the chance!"
In her threats to Ran Meiyu, coupled with her claims of having only a few days left to live, Ran Yan made it clear that all her efforts were in vain, nothing but foolish self-inflicted trouble.
Although Ran Meiyu was rash, she wasn't stupid. Hearing what Ran Yan had said, she started to weigh her options. It seemed all the maids around her were afraid of causing trouble and were urging her to leave quickly. Ran Meiyu quickly ordered her maid to hold the umbrella and hurriedly left in the rain, even forgetting to ask for her golden hairpin back.
Exhausted, Ran Yan collapsed in Xingniang's arms, still clutching the hairpin tightly in her hand.
From the original Ran Yan's memories, this 18th younger sister was the type to bully the weak and fear the strong, always pretending to wield power she didn't possess. She had some cunning but was far from matching her astute mother. So Ran Yan had bluffed her. Luckily it worked; otherwise, with the heavy rain and her current physical condition, if she were truly abandoned in some desolate wilderness, she definitely wouldn't live another day.
When Ran Yan stabbed her throat with the hairpin, she hadn't actually hit any vital points. It was just a scratch that drew a bit of blood—no big deal... The crucial part was... she had transmigrated! Her soul had traveled through time! How absurd!
Seeing Ran Yan in a dazed state and her eyes slowly closing, Wan Lu's heart tightened, and she hurriedly ran out to call the doctor.
*
Lying there for an indeterminate time, Ran Yan woke up again, still with her eyes closed, she could feel the warm sunlight.
"Wife!" Wan Lu saw her stir slightly and was overwhelmed with a mixture of sorrow and joy, seeming somewhat flustered, entirely unlike the decisive and stern behavior she displayed when blocking Ran Meiyu that day.
Ran Yan lifted her eyes to the sunshine filtering through the curtain, her mind still foggy.
What were the chances of transmigration? And what were the odds of returning? As Ran Yan lay in a dazed state, she knew the likelihood of returning anytime soon was slim. Even if there were a way back in the future, her body would have been cremated long ago, and even if it wasn't, who could guarantee that a dead body's functions could be used again? It seemed she was destined to live out her life in the Tang Dynasty of a thousand years past.
After taking several deep breaths, Ran Yan calmed her emotions. Coming back to her senses, she heard urgent calls beside her ear, "Wife! Wife!"
"Wan Lu." Ran Yan's voice was faint, as if a stronger wind might carry it away.
"Here, here, this slave is here!" Seeing Ran Yan returning to her senses, Wan Lu quickly moved closer.
"Is the sun out?" Ran Yan squinted at the bright sunlight streaming through the bamboo curtain, feeling some of the gloom in her heart dissipate a little.
Wan Lu noticed that Ran Yan's complexion had improved and finally breathed a sigh of relief, smiling as she replied, "Yes, after six or seven days of continuous rain, the weather has finally cleared. Wife has woken up too, truly a good omen."
"Help me outside to sit for a bit," Ran Yan recalled that she should use this kind of authoritative tone when speaking to Wan Lu, so she did just that.
Wan Lu cheerfully obeyed, swiftly passed through the curtains, and brought over a thick brocade coat for Ran Yan to wear, then supported her to the yard.
As soon as she stepped out of the room, a warm, moist breeze, mingled with the faint fragrance of herbs and the scent of honeysuckle, hit her face.
The small garden was filled with various flowers and plants, well-tended by the gardener. In the southwest corner of the yard, a pergola had been erected, now completely covered by the vines of honeysuckle, with delicate yellow and white blossoms competing to bloom under the sunlight, thriving vigorously.
Around the pergola was a neat little herb garden, within which grew several common medicinal herbs, with a small path paved with pebbles leading to the pergola.
Ran Yan did not go over but chose to bask in the sun along the covered walkway connecting the annex to the main house, which followed the perimeter wall of the yard; the dampness inside the house almost made her grow moldy.
Ran Yan leaned against a pillar and sat for a while. The warm sunlight slowly penetrated her cold skin, seeming to give her some strength, but she was too lazy to move. Squinting her eyes, she repeatedly went through the memories about the Ran family. She had inherited the body's memories, yet found that the original host was sorely lacking in knowledge—beyond the immediate family relations, almost everything else was a blank slate, ignorant of distant relatives, common folk's lives, or major world events, clearly having been a sheltered young lady who rarely stepped outside her chambers.
"Where are they planning to send me?" Out of professional habit, Ran Yan felt compelled to understand anything enshrouded in mystery.
Wan Lu was taken aback before reacting and said indignantly, "Are you talking about Lady Eighteen? She is forcing you to take the vows and become a nun! That Taoist temple is halfway up the mountain, attended by few devotees. If the Wife goes there, it would be, would be…"
Like signing one's own death warrant. Wan Lu avoided such words out of taboo, conveying the meaning without saying it outright.
Taoist temples in Suzhou City were not as prevalent as in Chang'an, with only a small temple in West Mountain. Adding everyone together, there were barely more than twenty people; the atmosphere was one of asceticism. Sending the critically ill Ran Yan there was no different from forcing her to die.
"Hmm, no matter what, you must not be too impulsive. You were quite rude to Lady Eighteen yesterday, and she will inevitably bear a grudge and seek revenge," Ran Yan knew that Wan Lu and Maid Xing were fiercely loyal. As she was new to this time and place, she would undoubtedly rely on them in the future. Out of a need to protect her allies, she felt obliged to caution her.
Wan Lu sighed helplessly, her tone nevertheless filled with certainty, "This whole affair was initiated by the Lady of the main house. She mentioned it to our master, but he did not agree. Lady Eighteen running here on her own to coerce, without proper justification or right, there are many in the family eagerly watching for faults in the Lady of the main house, waiting to accuse. If not for things being unsuitable to be made public, with Lady Eighteen's character, how would she have fled in such a panic?"
"The Lady of the main house" referred to by Wan Lu was Ran Yan's stepmother, Lady Eighteen's biological mother, while "our master" naturally referred to the head of the Ran family, Ran Yan's father from the Tang Dynasty.
Ran Yan said, "But after all, she is the mistress. If she wants to deal with you, it would take no more than a few words. Be careful in the future not to openly antagonize her."
So not openly means it's fine to do it covertly? Widening her eyes, Wan Lu thought, the Wife is smart and has always understood everything in her heart but never voiced it out loud, always bearing everything with resigned acceptance, oftentimes comforting herself by saying, "Just endure it a bit longer." Maid Xing shared the same attitude, and the two of them frequently huddled together, crying. This would frustrate the hot-tempered and easily angered Wan Lu beyond measure; it was about time things improved, even if the Wife had just said something rather ambiguous.
Wan Lu's eyes reddened as she choked out, "Even if I have to die, I cannot let the Wife be bullied! But as for the Wife, having suffered such a grievous injustice this time, it seems you have finally grown a heart! You are the legitimate daughter, and even if the Lady's family has fallen on hard times, they are nonetheless of high status, a thousand, no, a hundred thousand times better than coming from some insignificant family like the Lady of the main house. As long as the Wife recovers, no one can do anything to you!"
Ran Yan offered a faint smile; she had intended to offer advice, but instead, she received consolation. Although these words were meant for the original Ran Yan, she appreciated the sentiment all the same.
"The Wife's smile is so lovely!" Wan Lu's phoenix eyes brimmed with tears, and under the radiant sunlight, they sparkled, adding an extra touch of beauty to the slender young girl.
She was just sixteen or seventeen, an age like a blooming flower, yet she already seemed so mature—this maturity was surely forced upon her by years of hardship. Ran Yan pondered this thought until her mind drifted off again.
Wan Lu looked on with concern at her mistress, her expression blank after only a few words of conversation, wondering if there was truly something wrong.