Ji Wanxiang had cried.
"Little Sister, what happened?" Ji Wanqing strode forward at once and took her sister's hand. Her expression darkened. "Did Second Aunt say something to you?"
"No," Ji Wanxiang lifted her eyes. Seeing the lingering weariness on her elder sister's face, her heart ached. She hurriedly said, "I only saw how harmonious Second Aunt and her daughter were, and it stirred old feelings."
Ji Wanxiang knew well how precarious their situation was. She did not wish to burden the elder sister who was her sole support, and so she concealed the truth. After all, it was not something her sister could resolve immediately—better to hide it for as long as possible.
But Ji Wanqing understood her twin all too well. In the first year, it had indeed been easy for them to be overwhelmed by reminders of the past, but later things had improved considerably. Ji Wanxiang was clearly not telling the truth.
"Little Sister, is there truly nothing you can say to me?" Ji Wanqing swept a glance over the maids and servants who had accompanied her sister out. "If you won't say it, I'll ask them. Someone will speak."
All the indenture contracts of Chaoxia Courtyard's servants were in Ji Wanqing's possession. Madam Ji had been mistress of the household for many years and was no stranger to the realities of the world. How could she not know that her daughters' future would be difficult? On her deathbed, she had painstakingly selected her most trusted servants and handed their contracts to her eldest daughter.
By temperament, Ji Wanxiang could not shoulder major matters. Within Chaoxia Courtyard—and among the people left behind by Ji Wanqing's parents—everyone took Ji Wanqing as their leader. If she chose to inquire, she would certainly get answers.
Left with no choice, Ji Wanxiang told the truth. Second Aunt had shown her a prospective marriage, "asking" for her opinion, and said it would be settled in the coming days. Sensitive by nature, Ji Wanxiang knew her aunt harbored ill intent. Unable to refuse no matter how she deflected, she had wept in secret.
The inner chamber fell into deathly silence. The situation Ji Wanqing had long feared had finally arrived. Since ancient times, marriages had been decided by parents and matchmakers—never by the daughters themselves. With their parents gone, the authority over their marriages naturally fell into the hands of their uncle and aunt, who now managed the household.
As the orphaned daughters of the former Marquis, propriety dictated that after inheriting his brother's title, their uncle should find them suitable matches and send them off with generous dowries, so as not to invite criticism. Yet in the capital, there were many families who smiled sweetly while harboring bitter hearts.
And even setting all that aside—if their uncle and aunt truly chose to cast aside all shame and push the sisters into a pit of fire, the worst consequence would be public censure. It could still be done. Based on Ji Wanqing's understanding of her uncle and aunt, if the benefits were sufficient, they would absolutely be capable of such a thing.
Her face grew grim. "Which family did Second Aunt mention?"
At the mention of this deeply humiliating matter, Ji Wanxiang could no longer hold back her tears. "Second Aunt said… it's the Seventh Young Master of the Duke of Han."
The moment the words left her mouth, Ji Wanqing's expression turned utterly cold.
The Duke of Han wielded immense power and influence and was precisely the kind of figure Empress Ji's faction sought to draw in. His Seventh Young Master was the duke's youngest legitimate son. By all logic, arranging his marriage should have been effortless—certainly not something that would fall to an orphan like Ji Wanxiang.
Unfortunately, this Seventh Young Master was willful and unruly. Born to parents already middle-aged, he had been spoiled beyond measure. He spent his days provoking trouble, did nothing of substance, and though not yet formally betrothed, had already laid hands on every maid in his household. He was a notorious wastrel in the capital. As a result, families who truly cherished their daughters or valued their reputations refused to consider him.
The Duchess of Han was deeply anxious. Her son's temperament could no longer be corrected, yet as his mother, she was unwilling to have her youngest son marry a woman from a humble background. After searching through the capital, she finally set her sights on Ji Wanxiang.
Though her father was deceased, Ji Wanxiang was still a legitimate daughter of a distinguished house, her upbringing far superior to that of ordinary young ladies.
Ji Wanqing ground her teeth in fury. She slammed her palm onto the kang table with a loud bang and snapped, "Well done! My dear Second Aunt truly has no shame at all!"
Beyond the well-known vices everyone in the capital knew about, Ji Wanqing was aware of another problem with this Seventh Young Master—one known to far fewer people. He was indiscriminate in his tastes and harbored a fondness for men. He knew this was improper and concealed it well, which was why few knew.
After her father's death, Ji Wanqing had taken on the burden of responsibility herself. She understood keenly the importance of staying informed. She had instructed trusted people to mingle among the common folk, gathering all manner of information, which was quietly delivered to her every few days.
Though this method rarely yielded intelligence from the highest circles of the capital, it was enough to keep her eyes and ears open, to prevent herself from being quietly enclosed and rendered useless.
Among those under her command were men left behind by her father, people of real capability. The information about the Seventh Young Master had come from them, discovered by chance.
She had thought nothing of it at the time. Who could have expected that her aunt would now attempt to marry her sister off to such a revolting person?
Ji Wanqing was furious beyond measure. This marriage could never be allowed to happen.
She glanced at her sister, who was silently shedding tears, suppressed her anger, and softened her voice. "Little Sister, don't panic. With Elder Sister here, this will never come to pass."
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Chapter Four
Among aristocratic families of the present day, young ladies generally completed their training in etiquette and needlework by the age of ten or so. By eleven or twelve, families would begin selecting potential husbands, observing and choosing carefully for two or three years. Once the girl came of age, the engagement would be set, and within a year or two she would marry.
When the Ji sisters lost their parents, they were already thirteen. Their future marriages had largely been settled, with tacit understanding between both families.
Ji Wanqing's case need not be discussed further. The Wang family of the Marquis of Dongchuan had been old allies, yet after the sudden calamity, Madam Wang withdrew her intentions and sought another noble match for her son.
Ji Wanxiang's situation, however, was far more complicated.
Gentle and fragile by nature, she inspired greater concern from her parents. Fortunately, she had a childhood companion—a young man surnamed Zheng, named Yi. He was the son of one of Ji Wanqing's father's trusted generals. Though his family held no title and was relatively modest, it had the advantage of simplicity, free from the suffocating rules of great households.
Their fathers had shared a bond forged in life and death. As the children grew, affection blossomed naturally between them, and it was agreed that they would become engaged and marry in a few years' time.
Sadly, the great battle of that year had been exceptionally brutal. Not only did Ji Wanqing lose her father and brother, but Zheng Yi's father also died for the country. The Zheng family, newly risen and dependent on him as its pillar, collapsed almost overnight.
After the upheaval, Ji Wanqing had specifically ordered people to keep an eye on them. The Zheng family did not break faith. Zheng Yi still hoped to marry Ji Wanxiang. Yet now, one remained a noble-born young lady of a marquis's household, while the other was merely a junior officer observing mourning at home.
Zheng Yi bore much of his father's character. Given time, he might not fail to achieve distinction. More importantly, his devotion to Ji Wanxiang was absolute—his eyes held no one else.