Chapter 10: A Visitor in the Dead of Night

The etiquette teacher had been doing a perfectly fine job—until Nangong Ao insisted on replacing her. The new instructor was clearly out to make things difficult for her. Wasn’t it obvious whose orders she was following?

After hurling that retort, Xianyu Zheng rose to return to her room. As she stood, a sharp pain shot through her ankle, making her stagger. Without a sound, she limped away.

Nangong Ao frowned and went back to his study.

The next day, after her morning tea ceremony and flower arranging classes, Xianyu Zheng heard that the etiquette teacher’s car had crashed into a tree along the avenue. The teacher suffered no serious injury, only some minor cuts and a fright. Soon enough, yet another etiquette teacher was brought in.

The new teacher’s surname was Bai—Bai Luomei—a striking beauty with the aura of an elegant, modern woman. She stood at one meter seventy, dressed in fashionable office attire and slim heels. Her long, wavy hair cascaded about her, and her alluring features were accentuated by shapely, phoenix-like eyes, a beauty mark at the corner, and sensual red lips that took on a touch of cool elegance when unsmiling.

Unlike the previous two, she was not even thirty, and so Xianyu Zheng was to call her “Sister Bai.”

Sister Bai’s teaching style was straightforward and easy to grasp. Take, for example, the Nangong family’s rule of “no late-night snacks.” The previous teacher had explained it as a matter of noble ladies placing great importance on their figure, with midnight eating strictly forbidden. Even at over seventy, Madam Nangong maintained her youthful figure thanks to her healthy diet.

But Sister Bai cut straight to the truth: “People of the Nangong family are highly resistant to cold and hunger—eating too much actually makes them ill!”

Xianyu Zheng could only stare in silence.

Why, then, was she so sensitive to cold and hunger? Could it be that the Nangong blood in her veins was not genuine?

Sister Bai added, “Of course, keeping one’s figure is important too!”

Looking at Bai Luomei’s own perfect curves, Xianyu Zheng lowered her gaze in silence.

In truth, she had no objections to the family’s rules. What weighed on her was how the heir, Nangong Ao, had been so relentless in his attention to her lately. It was suffocating.

She hardly believed he truly cared about her. More likely, he was acting both out of respect for Madam Nangong’s wishes and to maintain the family’s reputation. After all, even if she hadn’t changed her surname, she now represented the Nangong family in public—her every word and action would be scrutinized. Especially next week, when she would report to Liyang Academy.

Liyang Academy was the premier institute in the imperial city, gathering the heirs and heiresses of high society. It was a microcosm of the elite world.

Sister Bai had made it clear: “If you make a name for yourself at Liyang Academy, you’ll be that much closer to entering high society.”

But Xianyu Zheng had no desire to join that world. She longed for the freedom she’d once enjoyed in the countryside. Even the three years she’d spent studying in the imperial city, with Dou Dou and the others, had brought her joy.

But life in the Nangong household was stifling—rules everywhere, constant exclusion. It was exhausting. Still, she endured, for the chance to continue her studies.

Her brother had said that only by learning ceaselessly could one break free from hardship.

To escape their predicament, her brother had gone abroad for four years and still hadn’t returned. She, in comparison, had barely lasted a month.

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With the new teacher, Xianyu Zheng was no longer subjected to standing punishments. She could leave class on time and never missed dinner again.

After the meal, she wanted to take a walk. Xiao Qin, noticing her limp, offered to accompany her, but Xianyu Zheng insisted on going alone.

She didn’t venture far—just circled around the garden behind the house before settling on a bench, lost in thought as she stared at a paper cup cake in her hands.

She’d considered choosing something else, but the cup cake was simply too delicious.

Back in the countryside, there had been nothing like it; even the bakeries in the imperial city couldn’t compare.

All right, perhaps she’d just been too busy to go out lately, and so she used this as her thank-you gift.

But with the Nangong family’s strict rules, where had Jiang Mohe, a mere security guard, managed to get such treats to give her?

The guards often had night shifts—those snacks must have been his supper.

She had no idea when he worked nights, nor did she understand why she had to come out here, limping in the dark, just to return his gift.

She turned to head back. Nearing the house, a hand suddenly pulled her beneath a plane tree, and another clamped over her mouth.

“Don’t make a sound.”

A low, magnetic voice, tinged with a faint minty scent. She didn’t need to look to know who it was, and she cooperated, staying perfectly silent.

His tall frame pinned her before the tree stump, his hand leaving her mouth to brace against the trunk above her, keeping a careful distance.

She glanced up at him, only for him to avert his gaze.

He was looking toward her balcony—a rope dangled from above, and a shadowy figure was sliding down!

Xianyu Zheng’s eyes widened. But the moonlight was faint tonight, and she couldn’t make out the intruder’s face.

The dark form landed softly and melted into the night.

Jiang Mohe released her arm and murmured, “Don’t go upstairs yet. Wait for the signal.”

With that, he darted off in the direction the shadow had vanished. He moved with astonishing speed—she felt a gust of wind, and when she turned, he was gone.

She stood there in a daze, wondering what signal she was meant to wait for, and why that shadow had descended from her balcony. What would have happened if she’d stayed in her room tonight?

Before she could work it out, a commotion erupted not far off—presumably, they’d caught the intruder.

Soon, the entire rear garden was ablaze with light.

She guessed this was Jiang Mohe’s signal.

When she entered the ground-floor sitting room, Madam Nangong and Nangong Ao were seated on the sofa, listening as the security chief gave his report. Jiang Mohe stood upright at the side, while the intruder lay motionless on the ground. Beside them, Xiao Qin bowed her head, weeping.

Noticing her entrance, Madam Nangong beckoned her over.

Xianyu Zheng sat beside her, and the lady’s cool hand closed around hers, gentle and reassuring. “You weren’t frightened, were you?”

She shook her head.

“What were you doing out so late?” Nangong Ao’s tone was terse.

Madam Nangong shot him a look, then turned back to soothe Xianyu Zheng. “Starting tomorrow, I’ll have Steward Xue arrange a more capable attendant for you.”

Glancing at the tear-stained Xiao Qin, Xianyu Zheng felt a pang of guilt.

Madam Nangong noticed and patted her hand, her voice low and earnest. “You know as well as I do, Zheng Zheng, that our family is no ordinary household. So many eyes covet what we have. The slightest misstep could bring irreparable harm.”

Xianyu Zheng recalled what Madam Nangong had once told her—that her own mother had been poisoned while fleeing enemies. The old lady had not yet shared the full story, but anyone able to challenge the Nangong family would surely not be a trivial foe.

The midnight intruder sprawled on the floor had likely been sent by such adversaries. To have slipped past the Nangong security system was no small feat.

If she hadn’t gone out for a walk, little Xiao Qin—an unworldly girl—would have been helpless to protect her. She might even have suffered for it herself.

So Xianyu Zheng said nothing to plead for Xiao Qin’s case.

Steward Xue came down from upstairs, nodded to Madam Nangong, then led Xiao Qin away.

Madam Nangong took Xianyu Zheng’s hand. “It’s getting late. Let’s go upstairs and rest. Leave the rest to your brother.”

Suddenly, the dark figure on the floor sprang up—