Chapter 35: Fury

Zhao Xianzhi only withdrew his gaze when he heard the Marquise’s voice, the words he had yet to speak stuck in his throat like a thorn. He was deeply annoyed by the Marquise’s appearance at this moment.

"Never mind," he thought, "perhaps it is better if she feels a deeper sense of guilt toward me. If one wants to catch the bandits, one must first capture their leader; surely then, those two young ones will be easy to manipulate."

Zhao Xianzhi shook his head, his tone dejected. "It is not just about compensation; I truly wish to be closer to my sisters." He forced a smile to comfort the Marquise. "The two sisters are still waiting for you, Mother. Please go in. I shall go read some military texts and will come to pay my respects later." He pulled his hand away, bowed, and departed.

The Marquise watched her son’s retreating figure, wiping the tears from her face with a heavy heart before turning to walk toward the courtyard.

Because the Marquis of Chengwu attached great importance to the embroidery academy selection held by the Grand Princess Jingyi, the instructress he hired was Mother Yan, who had once served in the Imperial Bureau of Attire. Mother Yan was as her name implied—strict and rigorous. Possessing the credentials of one who had served in the palace, her presence was beyond reproach, and even the Marquise treated her with a measure of deference.

Meng Zhenyue and Zhao Zhizhi took their seats in front of the embroidery frames. Mother Yan stood before them, her back straight, and began to speak:

"I am sure you have both heard of the requirements for the Grand Princess Jingyi’s embroidery academy, but as your instructress, I must repeat them once more."

"The selection takes place every two years and consists of three rounds. The first round tests the mastery of various embroidery techniques. The second round requires replicating the Grand Princess’s own patterns; the key here is to satisfy the Princess’s taste. The third round involves embroidering an original work, which will be judged by the public."

"The academy accepts one hundred students of the second grade, but only one of the first grade."

"I have examined both of your works. Barring any accidents, a second-grade spot is well within your reach. What you should be striving for now is the first-grade position."

With every word Mother Yan spoke, Meng Zhenyue could not help but be forced to recall the events of her past life. "Barring any accidents"—that was a fine premise, but in her previous life, the accident had been catastrophic. It had not only caused her and Zhao Zhizhi to be rejected but had even left them with ruined reputations.

Mother Meng was the last disciple of Grand Princess Jingyi, and as her daughter, Meng Zhenyue’s skill was not lacking. In her previous life, the reason Mother Meng had pushed her to give her all in this selection was to pave the way for her brother’s military examination. If she had been successfully selected, her brother would not have had to hide his talents so deeply. Yet, unexpectedly, both siblings had met with disaster. Because of Zhao Xianzhi’s glib tongue, both the Meng family and the Marquis’s estate had blamed everything on the faction of Prince Chen.

In this life, she would also give it her all. Not only to seek retribution for what the cousin and Zhao Xianzhi had done in her past life, but also to distract Zhao Xianzhi so that her brother could act more freely regarding Xiao Zhou. And then there was...

Entering the embroidery academy would provide a legitimate reason to see Grand Princess Jingyi, and she wanted to ask the Princess about the portrait of Prince Chen. Although the Grand Princess and Prince Chen were at odds, it was unlikely she had no portrait of him at all; and if she didn’t, it would be easier for her to obtain one than for Meng Zhenyue. However, she had to think of a plausible excuse. She could not reveal her suspicions about her father’s true identity, as the slightest carelessness could throw everything into chaos.

There was a ready-made excuse: since Zhao Xianzhi loved to use the Prince Chen faction as a shield, she could simply say that she was curious about the man himself because of him. Mother Meng had only been spared after the Grand Princess declared their master-disciple relationship severed, so the two had not met in years, occasionally communicating only through hurried messages sent by servants. Therefore, the Grand Princess should not have met her father; otherwise, the Princess might have long since forced Mother Meng to cast him out.

Thinking of this, Meng Zhenyue could not help but worry about what would become of her parents.

Mother Yan noticed Meng Zhenyue’s distraction. Suddenly, she walked over to her side, her voice growing louder as if to serve as a reminder:

"To ensure there are no deviations in the needlework you have shown previously, I wish to test you both today. Within one hour, you must embroider..."

Meng Zhenyue felt as if a thunderclap had exploded in her ears; she was startled and quickly pulled back to reality. She saw Mother Yan pause, look out the window at the lotus pond swaying in the breeze, and continue:

"Embroider a scene of lotus leaves gathering dew after the rain."

Meng Zhenyue hurriedly began her preparations. She intended to use the techniques she was most familiar with; excellence did not lie in the complexity of the method, but in its suitability and precision. Beside her, Zhao Zhizhi frowned as she looked out the window and began her work. She knew her needlework was poor, but she did not want to be criticized too harshly. The instructress had a sharp eye, but her mother adored her; even if the work was subpar, her mother would surely offer a few words of praise and spare her from humiliation.

After the Marquise entered the courtyard, she stood for a moment to calm herself before stepping inside. Upon entering, she saw her two daughters busy with their needles and threads and said nothing. It was not until nearly noon, after Meng Zhenyue and Zhao Zhizhi had completed their work—having taken only one or two short breaks—that they submitted their embroidery.

After the two girls left, Mother Yan presented the pieces to the Marquise. "My Lady, please look them over, and I shall do the same." Although the Marquise had said she would not interfere with her teaching methods, she was the mistress of the house, and she was clearly very concerned about this matter.

After a short nap in the afternoon, Meng Zhenyue and Zhao Zhizhi returned to the courtyard. Before the appointed time, Mother Yan began to critique their morning work. She was strictly professional, first praising Meng Zhenyue’s embroidery and then pointing out the shortcomings of both.

Although Zhao Zhizhi was not praised, she felt no great stir in her heart; her elder sister’s work was indeed better than her own. At that moment, she saw her mother enter and looked toward her with great anticipation. She had worked very hard this time; her mother should be able to see that she had improved significantly since the last attempt.

The Marquise sat down and gestured for them to forgo the formal bows. With a smile, she gently stroked the embroidery cloth as if it were a beloved object, saying:

"This piece—the technique is delicate and clear, the lotus leaves are fresh and lifelike, as if they are truly swaying in the wind."

Zhao Zhizhi did not need to think to know it was her elder sister’s. Then, she saw her mother’s smile vanish completely as she looked at the other piece. Her heart sank, and she clutched her handkerchief tightly with her small hands. The next moment, she watched as her mother struggled to contain herself before finally erupting in anger:

"Zhizhi! As a young woman... look at what you have embroidered!"

"How is this any different from a spider spinning a web!" Her mother snatched up the embroidery and threw it at her!

As Zhao Zhizhi stood up in a panic to bow, the words reached her ears: "You must learn properly from your elder sister!"

Her face turned burning hot, and several cold tears slid down her cheeks. She felt a mix of envy, jealousy, and suspicion as she glanced at Meng Zhenyue. Was her sister’s work really so good that it caused her mother to fly into a rage over her own needlework? Her mother had never been angry at her embroidery before, and certainly not in front of so many people. Why was her mother like this? Even if she had high hopes for her elder sister, there was no need to humiliate her so...

Did her mother think that because she had such a brilliant daughter in her elder sister, she found her too stupid to love anymore? Was that why...

Zhao Zhizhi felt deeply hurt. Meng Zhenyue, too, was reminded of what the servants had reported when she woke from her nap earlier that day.