Chapter 1: What Kind of Noble Lady Are You Now?

“Yueyue, I am your brother.”

“Even if I cannot marry you as the heir’s consort, I will treat you well for a lifetime.”

“My heart is like the moon—there is room for only one person, and that is you.”

It was the seventh year since Shen Xianyue had been taken in by the Marquis’s household, and these words were the drunken, heartfelt confession of Xiao Liyang, the heir’s foster brother.

As Shen Xianyue lingered in the warmth of that fleeting moment, a sharp, spiteful voice suddenly cut through her thoughts.

“Why are you still dawdling? If you don’t finish washing these clothes today, you can forget about supper.”

Her forehead was burning with fever. For a moment, Shen Xianyue could not tell whether the mountain of laundry before her and the scolding nun, or the gentle whisper of Xiao Liyang’s voice at her ear, was truly real.

But reality asserted itself soon enough.

Icy water was dumped over her head. The nun, seeing her silent, flung the filthy water from the basin all over her.

Numbly, Shen Xianyue placed the sour-smelling garments into the water. In the depths of winter, the freezing water made her hands stiff and unfeeling.

Her once delicate fingers were now covered with chilblains.

Watching her, a young nun curled her lip in disdain. “What are you pretending for? Still think you’re the young lady of the Marquis’s household? Here in the Tranquil Heart Nunnery, you must follow the rules. Besides, you’re just an orphan they took in—what does that make you?”

With that, she hurled her washing staff into Shen Xianyue’s basin, striking her hand squarely. Blood instantly welled up and streamed down.

Fighting back tears, Shen Xianyue methodically pounded the clothes in the basin. Blood trickled down her arm, dyeing the garments red.

The young nun was about to berate her again when an older nun hurried over. Catching sight of Shen Xianyue, she sneered, “Enough, leave the washing. Go change your clothes—today is a great day of worship. Don’t stand around putting on airs.”

Shen Xianyue silently stopped her work and lowered her head as she entered her room.

The old nun exchanged a glance with the others, a malicious smile on her face.

“She’s coming today—you’d better make sure you put on a good show.”

“Don’t worry, everything is arranged. This performance will be spectacular.”

Inside, Shen Xianyue’s frozen cheeks finally felt a flicker of warmth, and only now did the pain from her wound register.

Expressionless, she wrapped her hand with a kerchief and changed into clean clothes. The moment her skin touched the cold air, goosebumps prickled her arms.

Ten years ago, her father died in battle. Her mother, pregnant and sunk in sorrow, suffered a fatal hemorrhage in childbirth—both mother and child lost in a single night.

The once grand household, with its clanging bells and lavish feasts, was reduced to a single orphaned girl.

She knew she could not protect the family’s property, so she handed everything over to the imperial treasury.

General Xiao, who had been a friend to her father, perhaps could not bear the sight, and took the six-year-old her into the Marquis’s household.

Thus, she became a daughter of the Xiao family, Xiao Liyang’s sister.

Aside from the old master Xiao and Xiao Liyang, no one in the family treated her kindly.

In a household as large and influential as the Marquis’s, many distant relatives looked down on her as an orphan. In time, they not only made a game of bullying her, but even wagered on who could make her cry the fastest.

Timid as she was, all she could do was hide her tears, but their cruelty only grew.

One winter, they forced her to retrieve a young miss’s lost jade pendant from a pond. The ice had not yet melted, and she turned blue with cold.

It was Xiao Liyang who arrived in time, pulling her from the water and scolding the others fiercely. He knelt in the ancestral hall for three days, without warm clothing or food.

She fell gravely ill, but after that, the bullying lessened.

Yet there were others who began to see her value—after all, she was the girl whom the heir treasured most. With that came endless harassment.

Some would wait at the gates of the Marquis’s household, pouncing the moment she stepped out.

When Xiao Liyang learned of this, he said nothing—only left the house quietly and told her to eat well.

The next she heard, he had beaten one of the harassers so severely that the man’s father impeached Lord Xiao for poor discipline. Lord Xiao came home and caned Xiao Liyang twenty times.

He was bedridden for seven days.

Yet, seeing Shen Xianyue’s tear-filled eyes, Xiao Liyang forced a smile to comfort her: “It’s nothing, it doesn’t hurt. From now on, they won’t dare follow you when you go out.”

He said, “I will never let you be harmed. You are the woman I cherish most—I will protect you with all my life.”

Later, Madam Xiao began matchmaking to find Xiao Liyang a suitable consort. On the day he heard the news, Xiao Liyang got drunk, held Shen Xianyue tightly, and said he needed no consort—he only needed her.

Shen Xianyue believed him. Thus, when rumors spread that the emperor intended to grant her a marriage, she confessed her feelings openly to Xiao Liyang, hoping he would marry her and put an end to the emperor’s plans.

She never expected his reaction. He looked at her with disbelief, even disgust.

He said: “I am your brother. I have always regarded you as a sister. How can you be so shameless?”

Afterwards, using the excuse of praying for her late parents, Shen Xianyue was sent to Tranquil Heart Nunnery, where she remained for three years.

In the freezing winter, she was made to wash all the nunnery’s clothes by hand, fetch water, and cook. Any delay was met with a beating.

She wrote countless letters to the Marquis’s household, apologized again and again, but every plea vanished without a trace.

In time, her heart grew numb and cold.

She finished dressing and prepared to leave, when suddenly a man rushed at her from the side and seized her in a rough embrace.

“Little beauty, I’ve been waiting for you. Why are you so late?”

Shen Xianyue shuddered in terror. Outwardly, Tranquil Heart Nunnery was a place for nuns, but in truth, it differed little from a brothel. Time and again, she had witnessed secret liaisons in the halls, and had stumbled upon them more than once herself.

The first time she saw it, she was so frightened that she ran a high fever for three days, terrified that one day she would become their target.

Perhaps it was out of deference for her identity as the Marquis’s young lady that no one had dared touch her—until now.

Someone had finally grown bold enough to try to force himself upon her.

She struggled with all her strength, but could not break free. “Let me go! You’ve got the wrong person!”

The man inhaled deeply. “You really are the daughter of a noble house. Even after three years of hard labor, you still have a fragrance about you. Let’s see if your skin is just as delicate underneath those clothes.”

Hearing this, Shen Xianyue’s heart plummeted into despair.

If he knew her identity and still dared act, he was either unimaginably bold, or had someone powerful behind him.

“You know I am the Marquis’s daughter, and yet you dare do this? Aren’t you afraid of the Marquis’s people taking revenge?”

The man laughed. “Who doesn’t know you’re here to atone for your sins? If they find out I slept with you, I might even get a reward.”

Her robe had already been torn open. She fought desperately to keep her underclothes intact. The glimpse of snowy skin, half-hidden, sent the man’s blood racing.

He licked his lips lewdly. “Anyone who ends up in this nunnery can’t be worth much. What difference does it make who sleeps with you? Might as well let it be me. Ask around—they all say I’m good in bed. Tonight, I’ll take your virginity and let you know what it means to be a woman.”

With that, he lunged at her, pressing her down on the table.

Her lower back struck the edge, sending a sharp jolt of pain through her.

That she could be reduced to being prey for such a beast—she had never imagined.

The man’s ragged breath fell hot against her neck. Her clothes were in tatters. Shen Xianyue bit hard on her tongue; the searing pain brought a fleeting moment of clarity.

A sickening sound—hairpin piercing flesh.