Outside the underworld, the King’s Mansion.
One day above, a year below; for Chen Yi, more than twenty days had passed, but for the King’s Mansion, it was rely the break of dawn where the sky revealed a faint fish-belly white.
The Prince’s eldest son Yin Xing had gone missing.
The news was spread by the nanny who cared for the Prince’s eldest son, and then it reached so gossiping servants. Gradually, it made its way to the King’s ears.
"Xing Ge’er is missing?"
The King furrowed his aging brows deeply, his fingertips anxiously rubbing the cloud-patterned robe, his expression puzzled and dark.
The Princess arrived gracefully, carrying a tea bowl, and gently comforted him:
"Perhaps he has gone sowhere to play."
The King’s brows remained tightly furrowed as he murmured:
"No, sothing feels off. It doesn’t seem like he’s out fooling around."
The Princess’s expression remained composed, seemingly unbothered, and in the King’s eyes, there was little concern beyond confusion.
Having slept only a short while overnight, the King received the tea from the Princess, sipping it slowly before quietly instructing:
"Send soone to search for him. If he’s not found within an hour, then announce that he has been found."
On the surface, these words seed contradictory.
But the King spoke them with confidence, as if Yin Xing’s disappearance was no big deal, and the Mansion need not be thrown into chaos over the matter.
The Princess didn’t display any urgency either. She simply nodded slightly, refraining from saying much, and instead asked:
"Is the Prince worried that soone might be plotting sothing nefarious?"
"If he wandered off by himself, that’s one thing. But if soone is behind this, then increased vigilance is necessary everywhere in the Mansion.
Besides, it’s just a paper body. His soul remains intact; we can simply replace the paper-body shell."
The King sipped his tea and suddenly thought of soone. He leaned forward to ask:
"Could it be that Chen is plotting sothing?"
The Princess finally furrowed her brows, reminding him repeatedly:
"He is your son-in-law."
"A leopard never changes its spots," the King grumbled irritably as thoughts of Chen Yi roused his temper, causing a rush of naless anger. He snorted coldly and said, "He might have buried his grievances too deeply... Ah! Why is my tea bowl shattered?"
The King’s cold snort caused his hand to tremble, and the tea bowl fell to the ground, breaking into pieces.
The shards scattered with a crash, grazing against his fingertips and leaving a small wound exposed.
"Ah! Tch."
The King drew a sharp breath, glanced at the blood on his fingertip, and instinctively sucked on it.
"Ah! Ah! Wipe it clean—don’t just lick it."
Seeing this, the Princess retrieved a handkerchief from her robe and briskly approached him. Without hesitation, she grabbed the King’s hand, wiped away the blood, and chided him:
"You’re like a child."
The King remained silent, refraining from rebuttal. His thoughts drifted instead to Yin Weiyin, his eldest legitimate daughter deeply imrsed in Taoist cultivation. Just what had beco of her now?
"Weiyin—who knows what’s going through her mind, choosing that man as her Taoist companion," the King muttered, his heart weighed down by unease. He remarked, "Who knows where she’ll end up later?"
"To beco immortal, of course," the Princess replied nonchalantly. "She’ll ascend alongside her husband."
The King’s face turned cold, and he said icily: "One achieves the Way, and even chickens and dogs ascend with him!"
"Well, well," the Princess quipped, half-jesting, "you’re the chicken and dog."
The King, hearing this, flew into a rage: "Then this King shall not ascend!"
"Not even worthy of being a chicken or dog."
............
In the Chen family courtyard.
The eaves, nearly a yard tall, were covered with snow. At this hour, the sky was tinged with fish-belly white, casting a silvery glow over the tiles, which shimred as if emitting light. Snow had also collected by the doorway—not much, certainly not enough to build a snowman, rely a thin layer suitable only for rolling a few snowballs.
Min Ming had been here for so ti. Early this morning, after washing up, she took up a broom and stepped out, intending to sweep away the snow in the courtyard. Turning her head, she caught sight of a small figure sitting at the doorstep.
A shadow fell across the young woman’s face. From this angle, she seed sowhat shrouded in darkness. She yawned slightly and, noticing Min Ming, blinked her eyes at her.
Min Ming caught sight of the girl, and the girl, too, saw her.
Sunlight fell upon the girl’s rounded figure, outlining a golden halo that shimred softly like fur.
The overlapping mountains in the backdrop resembled an otherworldly scene. Yin Tingxue blinked again, realizing this was the very "innate nursing saint body" Chen Yi had once crudely joked about.
Noticing the girl’s gaze, Min Ming suddenly felt shy, slightly turning her body away.
After pondering for a mont, she softly asked, "Why is the Second Madam sitting here?"
Having entered this household as a servant girl, Min Ming knew she needed to adopt the deanor of one. Her knack for handling things ca naturally; she had seen plenty of drama in brothels and adapted quickly to new surroundings. Besides, she had been managing affairs in the Min family for many years. It wasn’t long before she adjusted to life here, respectfully addressing her master as "Second Madam."
Yin Tingxue rubbed her cheek, still sowhat unaccustod to hearing Min Ming call her "Second Madam."
Yet Min Ming’s posture had to maintain propriety; otherwise, if Chen Yi took a dislike to it, things could go awry. Yin Tingxue nodded and replied with a simple "Mm."
The girl remained a girl; no matter how long she had been married, she had never truly considered herself a Madam.
The past seed to have beco a shallow scar—still present, yet only just there.
"Second Madam..."
Yin Tingxue muttered the words to herself.
The more she thought about it, the stranger the title seed.
Setting aside whether she truly counted as Chen Yi’s wife,
even if she did, she shouldn’t be the second Madam.
Granted, Master Zhou had "that kind of" relationship with him, but she had been the first to arrive.
Logically speaking,
she should be the first Madam.
The thought struck her as amusing. Had she, unwittingly, snatched Master Zhou’s place?
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