Han Zhi, a frequent source of Song Chuyi's headaches, was feeling a headache of his own at that moment. Under the dim candlelight, he looked at Lady Fan, his mother, yet he could barely make out her face. It was almost ughable—he was not even familiar with his own mother's appearance. But it wasn't surprising; he had been sent out of the capital for medical treatment at a young age, a sickness he had acquired thanks to Lady Fan.

  Through the hazy glow, he cast a gnce at her, his voice low and hoarse. "You want me to ask Aunt for help?"

  Inwardly, he ughed mockingly. His aunt had always been generous to their family, always granting whatever Lady Fan or Han Yueheng requested. What would she ever deny if they asked? Lady Fan always wore that long-suffering, cautious look, as if she were the only saint on earth while everyone else treated her like a demon.

  The room fell silent as Han Zhi waited for Lady Fan's response, his head lowered. He could barely stand his mother anymore—even when asking for help, she held onto that superior attitude, making it seem as though anyone unwilling to help owed her a debt.

  At that moment, the curtain suddenly lifted with a swoosh, letting in a cold gust of wind that caused the candle fmes to flicker. Han Yueheng rushed in, her face streaked with tears. She threw herself in front of Han Zhi, calling him "Brother" in a choked voice and pleading, "Brother, please help me. I don't want to go to Japan..."

  Lady Fan averted her gaze, her fists clenched tightly—Consort Fan's influence over the years had indeed proven effective. Han Zhi now trusted and was closer to her rather than his own mother, who couldn't even speak a word to him.

  Han Zhi had never been close to his family. His mother was almost like an enemy, and his sister had grown distant over the years. But he wasn't entirely heartless. When he first heard that Han Yueheng was among those designated for the marriage alliance, he had already sent someone to speak to Consort Fan on her behalf.

  He thought about his request to Consort Fan and how she hadn't refused, feeling a wave of impatience as he pushed Han Yueheng's hand away.

  Behind Han Yueheng stood Nanny Qi, her face stern, pulling her back and scolding, "Miss, you're old enough to know better than to cling like that. It's improper."

  Han Yueheng, who was always fearful of Nanny Qi, froze at her words. Seeing Han Zhi's indifferent expression, she felt utterly hopeless and turned to hug Lady Fan, crying bitterly.

  Nanny Qi's lips curved in a strange smile before she resumed her usual stern and sharp appearance, like the hardened pace servant she was.

  Feeling impatient, Han Zhi rubbed his temples, preparing to leave. Every time he stayed home, he felt unsettled. In the past, he had been hurt and humiliated by Lady Fan's sharp words. Now, as she lowered herself to ask for his help, he felt even more chaotic inside.

  But just as he was about to step outside, Qiuju and Qiulian entered with lowered eyes, announcing that Qian Ying had arrived.

  Qian Ying was Zhou Weiqi's chief aide, someone Zhou Weiqi trusted implicitly. Han Zhi raised an eyebrow and instructed them to take Qian Ying to the flower hall. He gnced back through the shadowy light at Han Yueheng, still sobbing, and told Qiuju, "Tell the young dy not to cry. I've already spoken to Aunt about it."

  Qiuju hadn't expected such a response from Han Zhi, and her eyes lit up in delight. She nodded eagerly, then entered the room and, seeing Nanny Qi pause for a moment, casually suggested that Nanny Qi fetch a new makeup box for Han Yueheng—her tear-streaked face needed refreshing.

  Once Nanny Qi had left, eyeing her suspiciously, Qiuju gently helped Han Yueheng up, unable to contain her joy as she told Lady Fan and Han Yueheng, "The Young Lord said he already asked the Consort for help. She always grants his requests, so since he's spoken up, it's likely this will work out."

  Han Yueheng and Lady Fan exchanged gnces, both smiling bitterly as they lowered their heads.

  If it were truly going to work, the Ministry of Rites wouldn't have already sent the princess's golden record today. Consort Fan had clearly made up her mind—Han Yueheng was going to Japan, no matter what.

  Han Yueheng couldn't understand why her usually loving aunt would treat her this way, but that didn't stop her from feeling a deep resentment toward Consort Fan. It was as if she'd grown up in an instant. Leaning her head on her mother's knee, she murmured, "It's all right, Mother..."

  She choked for a moment, then shook her head with a bitter smile. "I used to think she was a good person. But now I see that if she were truly good, she wouldn't have pushed me into being the Ninth Princess's companion. Everything Nanny Qi taught me—rules and skills—was all tailored to the Ninth Princess's preferences..."

  The thought was chilling. The ever-kind and generous Consort Fan had harbored such pns from the beginning.

  Lady Fan felt a mix of emotions twist painfully within her. She csped Han Yueheng's hand tightly, and for the first time in years, an expression of intense emotion spread across her usually stoic face. She smiled—a cold, bitter smile that startled Qiuju.

  Then, in a near-whisper, she told Han Yueheng, "Go as you must, but live well there. When she pays the price for this, you must be alive to witness her downfall."

  The window was still open, allowing the wind to rush in and extinguish the room's candlelight. Han Yueheng y on her mother's p for a long while before finally answering, "All right."

  After Nanny Qi came to help Han Yueheng fix her appearance and escort her back to her room, Lady Fan turned her stiff neck to Qiuju. "I have a letter. Help me send it to the post station."

  She couldn't understand why, for the sake of the family, she had to sacrifice so much. Why, when she and Consort Fan were both daughters of the Fan family, had Consort Fan always lived a life of triumph while trampling her down, even now, dragging her children into it?

  For years, she had been in a daze, but now it was time to wake up. Her own life held no hope, and she would never see her daughter again. For the sake of the Fan family, she'd become a shadow of her former self, yet neither her parents, family, nor any of the cn had ever stepped in to help. They owed her an expnation.

  Even a cornered rabbit will bite, and even cy figures have a little earth in them. Consort Fan had pushed her to the point of no return. Talking of sisterhood was useless now. A fierce light burned in Lady Fan's eyes—if she were to fall into the depths of hell, she would drag Consort Fan down with her.

  _______

  Author's note: As for Song Yan's connection to the Han family, Consort Fan, and the Prince of Commandery, without giving too much away, I'll say you've all guessed wrong! He hasn't gone astray, nor has he lost his way. He's just a catalyst, and as a ten-year-old child, he may be smart, but he can't do everything. Even Song Chuyi has often been rendered helpless by Han Zhi's schemes—how could he possibly do better?