When cursing someone, never insult their mother.

Since that day, the Ink Courtyard had returned to its serenity. The rumors about Gu Fei gradually faded from conversation, yet it was obvious that others rarely visited the Ink Courtyard without pressing need. Even when necessity called, the maids came and went in haste, never lingering a moment longer than required.

A few days later, Gu Fei heard that Madam Cui, after Lord Gu Zhong, had also fallen ill in quick succession.

Danqing relayed the news while Gu Fei lounged in her chair, basking in the sunlight of the Ink Courtyard. The old nurse had been conspicuously absent for days, but Gu Fei understood the reason, though she offered no explanation to Danqing.

Even the sudden appearance of the old nurse with a bucket of well water that day had been quietly probed by Danqing in a roundabout way.

Gu Fei merely looked at her and smiled, her almond-shaped eyes curving like crescent moons, but she uttered not a word more. She well remembered that Danqing had originally been sent over from Madam Cui’s household. Though it seemed that, in her moments of peril, Danqing always shielded her to the utmost, Gu Fei was by nature deeply suspicious. She trusted not even the old nurse completely; how could she trust Danqing?

Therefore, she never revealed that all her prior actions had been orchestrated by her own hand, including the first strike aimed directly at Madam Cui. It was she who had deliberately led Lord Gu Zhong there, intending to display her possible ink-making skill and instill suspicion and wariness in him, so that she could gain a measure of peace.

As for the old nurse’s actions toward the Daoist, they had been not just satisfactory, but exceedingly so—beyond what Gu Fei had anticipated. Thus, when Madam Cui was so frightened afterward, she dared not speak up even when dealing with Old Lady Duan, for fear of drawing trouble upon herself.

In this way, Gu Fei’s incisive counterattack had unraveled all of Madam Cui’s schemes, each step interlocking with the next in a chain of calculations.

When Danqing saw she could glean nothing further, she held her tongue and no longer mentioned those past events, so that the days resumed their usual tranquility.

After pondering for some time, Gu Fei, having finished her breakfast that day, dabbed her lips with elegant composure and remarked lightly to Danqing, “Is Aunt unwell? Has she seen a physician? What did the physician say?”

Danqing, tidying up the dishes, paused in her movements before replying, “She has. The doctor said her illness stems from pent-up frustration, a knot in her heart that leaves her feeling unwell day by day.”

Gu Fei was silent for a moment. “Take me to visit her later. As the younger generation, it is only right that I attend to her bedside while she is ill.”

Perhaps surprised that Gu Fei would volunteer to nurse the sick, Danqing was momentarily stunned before quickly recovering and smiling. “If the Lady hears of this, she will surely be even more fond of you, miss.”

Gu Fei smiled, a deep and mottled shadow cast at the corner of her lips.

Madam Cui’s residence was called the Peony Courtyard, filled with blooming peonies—golden and purple clusters blazing with vibrant splendor. Whether Madam Cui loved the flowers themselves or the grandeur they symbolized, none could say.

Danqing pushed the wheelchair, her head bowed slightly, quietly recounting the likes and dislikes of each member of the main household. As they approached the entrance, Gu Fei saw from afar two slender young women standing together at the door, speaking in low voices.

Danqing quickly whispered, “The one in lake-blue is Miss Gu Wanting, the eldest daughter. The one in vermilion gauze is Miss Gu Wanxiu, the second daughter. Both are born of Madam Cui—the eldest is seventeen, the second sixteen.”

Gu Fei committed their faces to memory, her gaze lingering a moment on Gu Wanting. The old nurse had previously warned her there were two in the main house to be most wary of—one was Madam Cui, the other, naturally, the eldest daughter Gu Wanting.

Gu Wanting was tall, her features bearing a strong resemblance to Madam Cui. Perhaps by nature aloof, she met everyone with the same proud and indifferent expression. The second daughter, Gu Wanxiu, wore her hair in a delicate maiden’s knot, her face small and gentle, her large bright eyes adding an extra touch of youthful sweetness and innocence compared to her sister.

As Gu Fei studied them, they reached the door. Danqing curtseyed to the two, who promptly returned the scrutiny to Gu Fei.

Without revealing anything, three pairs of eyes met in silent confrontation amidst the drifting fragrance of peonies in the tranquil courtyard.

Gu Fei was the first to laugh softly, shifting her gaze with practiced ease, raising her head to greet them in a tone neither warm nor cold. “Gu Fei greets eldest and second sister.”

Gu Wanxiu snorted coldly, raising her chin with haughty disdain, turning her head aside as though even the courtesy of a perfunctory response was too much for Gu Fei.

Gu Wanting, by contrast, barely curled her lips and replied in a voice as cold as ice and snow, “That cannot be. Not until you’ve bled for the kinship test and are entered into the family register can you be considered one of the Gu family.”

The implication was clear: Gu Fei’s origins were dubious; she should return to wherever she came from.

Gu Fei marked Gu Wanting’s attitude in her mind, but was not angered. Instead, she sidestepped the issue with grace. “I am here today to visit Aunt. Ever since I heard of her illness, I have been greatly concerned.”

“You’re not going in,” declared Gu Wanxiu abruptly, spreading her arms so her wide sleeves blocked the entrance completely. “Mother only fell ill because of you, you wretched thing. You have nothing good in mind—”

But before she could finish, Gu Wanting cut her off sharply. “Enough, Wanxiu! Such words from a well-bred young lady? If anyone heard, they’d think the Gu family raised us no better than ruffians with a mother but no proper upbringing.”

Gu Fei listened to the exchange with a faint smile, perfectly aware that Gu Wanting’s remarks, though veiled, were barbed. Still, she was unruffled, idly flicking the edge of her thin cloak draped across her knees. “Indeed, there are those born of mothers but raised by none. Even so, a proper ruffian knows not to insult another’s mother, for are we not all born of parents? If we trace it far enough, perhaps we all descend from the same ancestors—wouldn’t that mean cursing oneself as well?”

Her words, deft and pointed, gave no ground. Even in an exchange of words, she would strike back instantly, unable to brook the smallest slight.

Gu Wanxiu wanted to retort, but was held back by Gu Wanting, who looked coldly at Gu Fei, her eyes dark and glacial. “You certainly have a sharp tongue…”

Gu Fei glanced at her out of the corner of her eye.

Gu Wanting’s gaze drifted over Gu Fei’s crippled legs, and she sneered, “I wonder, if one day that sharp tongue of yours is as useless as your legs, what more will you have to say?”

It was a cruel jab, aimed mercilessly at her wound.

But Gu Fei cared nothing for others’ opinions of her legs. She did not live by them; if they were gone, so be it. The debt of her crippled legs would be repaid in time. At worst, it only meant inconvenience in walking—a trifling matter to one who had already brushed the gates of hell. So she replied, “I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed, elder sister. I can do more than speak—I can act.”

The three of them faced off at the entrance, dappled sunlight and drifting fragrance swirling about like clouds, neither side yielding nor able to overcome the other.

Gu Fei seemed quite content to contend with the two sisters of the Gu family. The more they barred her way, the more determined she became to enter; once her stubbornness flared, not even the King of Heaven could stop her.

Danqing looked on anxiously, wringing her hands, at a loss for what to do as she watched the three young ladies.

No one noticed as a young woman approached, dressed in a high-waisted gown of turmeric smoke-colored gauze. Her features were gentle as water, her eyes warm and radiant as she addressed the trio, “Why are you all standing at the door? Are you here to admire the peonies?”