The embroidered shoe struck Shen Qingrang squarely on the back of his head before falling heavily to the ground. Following the trajectory of the shoe, everyone looked up to see Miss Tong, limping and seething with anger, charging toward Shen Qingrang.

  The group hadn't anticipated such a sudden turn of events and stared wide-eyed in shock. Even the experienced nanny accompanying Cui Huaying was left speechless, her mouth opening and closing as if to say something, but no words came out.

  Today, Duke Ying's family had just seen one of their young dies elevated to the title of County Lady and sent with the Ninth Princess on her diplomatic marriage to Japan. Who would have thought that barely had they seen her off, and here they were, with her own brother and sister-in-w causing a commotion at Huangjue Temple... The Duke's residence truly seemed to be as chaotic as the rumors suggested, utterly in disarray.

  Shen Qingrang's neck and face bore fresh, bleeding scratches, but in the icy weather, he seemed numb to the pain. It wasn't until Tong Shao yanked his hair back that he stumbled slightly, barely managing to keep his bance. He finally snapped back to reality, throwing a disgusted and disdainful look at Tong Shao. Clutching the back of his head, he forcefully shook his sleeve, flinging Tong Shao backward a few steps, before quickly turning and fleeing.

  Tong Shao, wearing only one boot and a thin sock on her other foot, barely noticed the cold. She stood there, stunned, watching Shen Qingrang's retreating figure before covering her face and bursting into tears.

  Xiang Mingzi sighed, tugging gently on Song Chuyi's hand. "We should leave... We've seen enough of Miss Tong's temperament recently to know it's best not to get involved."

  Song Chuyi nodded, but before they could leave, Tong Shao suddenly came charging toward them, wailing and cursing in vulgar terms, "You little wretch..."

  Nanny Xu and the Cui family's nanny stepped in front of Song Chuyi, blocking Tong Shao without hesitation. Nanny Xu calmly but firmly pushed her back, saying, "Miss, please show some dignity..."

  Tong Shao froze, looking like a plucked hen, her energy completely spent. Those words, "show some dignity," pierced her heart like a sharp knife, leaving her almost unable to stand.

  At that moment, she felt the bitter taste of regret. She had believed her endless love for Shen Qingrang would sustain them through life. Yet, in less than half a year, his cold indifference had drained all her passion.

  Cui Huaying took Song Chuyi's arm and turned to leave, sighing, "All her scheming to marry him, and look at her now. They're only engaged, yet already fighting like roosters in a coop..."

  Song Chuyi didn't look back. Shen Qingrang's misery and Tong Shao's arrogance no longer concerned her.

  In life, you reap what you sow. Be it wealth, power, or sincere affection, it doesn't matter which you choose, but you can't have everything. Most importantly, once you make a choice, don't regret it. Once you regret it, you've already lost.

  Elsewhere, Lady Fan had chosen not to join the other noblewomen at Huangjue Temple. She had spent nearly twenty years praying to Buddha, but she remained trapped in suffering with no divine intervention to save her.

  At that moment, she sat restlessly in a private room on the second floor of Chongyin Tavern, so tense that she could hardly hold her teacup. After descending from Babao Mountain, she had been about to speak to First Lady Song when a maid bumped into her, slipping her a note. Amid the bustling crowd of servants from various residences, she had no idea who had sent it. But as soon as she opened the note, she recognized Han Zhi's handwriting.

  She couldn't tell if it was excitement or anxiety that surged within her, but she did her best to remain composed and, as the note instructed, went straight to the private room at Chongyin Tavern.

  After an indeterminate amount of time, the door creaked open amidst the background noise, and she shot up, staring intently at the person entering.

  With just one gnce, her eyes stung, and she couldn't hold back her tears.

  Han Zhi had never been fond of his mother. Even now, he hadn't intended to seek her out. But watching her nearly colpse in tears from afar, he felt an unfamiliar pang in his chest. Perhaps there truly was something to be said for blood ties. After all, it was his aunt who had plotted his death, while his mother, despite her cold indifference, had still sent him silver and told Guan Hai to urge him to flee.

  Lady Fan's hands were damp with nervous sweat, but she didn't notice, struggling to suppress her sobs as she finally managed a trembling smile. "You... you're all right..."

  Knowing that Han Zhi was safe brought her a brief moment of joy, followed by a wave of fear and worry. Her heart pounded like a drum, and without waiting for him to speak, she grabbed his wrist urgently, stammering, "Don't go to your aunt again... This incident... it's tied to her. She won't help you. If she finds out you're alive... if she finds out..."

  Han Zhi froze at her words. He had always thought of Lady Fan as his aunt's puppet, obediently following every command without her own thoughts. But now, here she was, standing in front of him, earnestly warning him to stay away from his aunt.

  He narrowed his eyes, studying her with a hint of cold suspicion. "How do you know she's behind this? What else do you know?"

  Clinging to his arm, a faint joy filled her as he didn't pull away for the first time. She lowered her gaze, letting out a bitter ugh that sounded resigned and filled with mockery, enough to bring tears to anyone who heard it.

  Then, Han Zhi heard her sigh softly, "How could I not know? From the moment I came to the capital with her, she never stopped wanting me dead."