Two days passed quietly.
Bethany... No, Lan Yue was slowly getting used to her new identity and life in this world. The mornings were cold, the food was plain, but it was peaceful. At least for now.
Today, as expected, was the day they would return to the capital.
Lan Yue, Liu Ruyan, and Xiaoqing packed the few belongings they had. Most were old, worn clothes and a few household items. It didn't take long.
Right on time, a carriage arrived at the gates.
It wasn't grand, just a simple black wooden carriage with red trimmings and an emblem that showed it belonged to the Zhao household. A servant from the main estate jumped down and bowed respectfully to Zhao Lingxi.
"Miss, the master has sent me to bring you home," he said.
Zhao Lingxi nodded coldly and stepped toward the carriage.
Realistically, in ancient noble households, the mistress would ride alone in the main compartment of the carriage, while servants followed on foot or sat at the back if there was space.
Lan Yue, of course, didn't expect special treatment.
Zhao Lingxi entered the carriage first. The inside was simple but clean. A cushion had been laid out for her comfort.
"You two can sit at the back," the servant said to Liu Ruyan and Xiaoqing.
Lan Yue blinked. "And me?"
"There's enough room for one more in the front with the driver," he said.
Lan Yue sighed. "Lucky me."
She climbed up to sit beside the driver, while the other two girls sat at the back, legs dangling. It wasn't the most comfortable ride, but it was better than walking.
As the carriage finally began to move, Lan Yue leaned back against the hard wooden seat and muttered, "This is far inferior to a car…"
The road was bumpy and uneven, causing the carriage to shake every few minutes. Dust filled the air, making her throat dry. Hours and hours passed. The sun climbed high and slowly dipped toward the horizon, yet they were still on the road. Her legs were stiff, her back felt sore, and she was already tired of hearing the constant creaking of the wooden wheels.
By the time they neared the capital, the sky had begun to darken. The towering gates came into view first, flanked by guards in armor. Lanterns lit up the streets one by one, casting a warm glow on the stone-paved roads.
The capital was completely different from the quiet countryside they had just left. The streets were busy even in the evening, with vendors shouting, people walking about in elegant robes, and carriages moving in every direction.
Compared to her modern world, it felt like she had stepped into a historical drama. No neon signs, no cars, no tall buildings. Instead, there were tiled roofs and elegant wooden pavilions. The air was thick with the scent of smoke, spices, and horse manure. Something no amount of perfume could cover.
Lan Yue blinked, pressing her lips together.
So this is the capital, huh.
The carriage rattled on through the wide streets until it finally turned toward the Zhao Residence. Lan Yue sat stiffly beside the driver, the wooden bench hard under her. Every time the wheels hit a stone, the jolt rattled her bones. Probably Liu Ruyan and Chen Mei in the back were better off then her.
The Zhao estate loomed large, with towering walls and grand gates painted in deep red. Two stone lions guarded the entrance, and rows of lanterns lined the path. From the outside, it screamed wealth and power, the home of a great general's family.
But the reality was different.
The paint on the gates had begun to fade, the guards stood lazily with half-closed eyes, and when the carriage rolled to a stop, not a single steward or servant came forward. For a family of such status, this silence was unnatural.
Lan Yue frowned. The return of a young miss after ten years of banishment should have caused at least some stir. Yet here, the air felt heavy, as if her arrival was nothing more than a forgotten chore.
She jumped down first, brushing dust off her robe, and opened the carriage door. Zhao Lingxi stepped down with quiet grace, her face unreadable, though Lan Yue caught a flash of coldness in her eyes.
Just then, a small figure darted out from the gates.
"Elder Sister!"
The boy's voice cracked with excitement.
Lan Yue blinked. He was far too thin for his age, his skin pale, his robe simple compared to the rich silks she expected from a Zhao son. But his eyes shone brightly, full of unhidden joy.
Zhao Lingxi paused, her icy mask softening for the first time. The last she saw him, he had been a child of five, clinging to her sleeves with chubby cheeks. Now his shoulders were bony, his smile faint, yet the warmth in his gaze was unchanged.
"Xiao Han…" Zhao Lingxi's voice was soft, almost trembling.
He ran into her arms, clinging tightly as if afraid she would vanish again.
"Elder Sister, I knew you would come back. I've been waiting every day."
Lan Yue's chest tightened. In this cold and indifferent estate, this frail boy seemed to be the only one who truly remembered her.
Zhao Lingxi patted his head gently, her lips curving into the faintest smile. "En. I've come back."
But before the warmth could settle, a sharp voice cut through the air.
"Hmph. Making a scene the moment you arrive?"
An older woman in elegant robes stepped out from the side hall. Her face was painted with disdain as her gaze swept over Zhao Lingxi and the boy clutching her sleeve.
"Truly disgraceful," she sneered. "Ten years away, and still you bring shame to this household."
Oh great, they had just arrived. Is the drama really necessary? Lan Yue complained inwardly as she rubbed her sore butt.
The servants standing nearby lowered their heads, pretending to mind their own business. But whispers soon spread like ripples in water.
"Why is she back?" one muttered under her breath.
"She's a murderer," another hissed, lips curling. "To kill a child before it's even born… such a vicious heart."
"The master is too kind. She should have been executed back then instead of being sent away!"
The words were hushed, but the malice in their tone was sharp enough to cut.
Liu Ruyan's face darkened. She and Chen Mei, who had just stepped down from the carriage, both snapped their heads toward the servants.
"Don't talk nonsense!" Liu Ruyan's voice cracked like a whip, her eyes fierce.
Zhao Lingxi straightened slowly, her hand still resting protectively on Zhao Han's shoulder. Her face returned to calm indifference, as though the woman's words had struck nothing at all.