Chapter 2: Picking Up the Golden Hairpin

"Eighteenth Miss, absolutely not, I beseech you to speak with the lady—my wife is critically ill. The doctor said that moving her now will surely worsen her condition. Please, I beg you on my knees…" the old woman sobbed, her aged voice trembling with entreaty.

Another girl's voice, cold and piercing, said, "Xing Niang, don't you kneel to her! Can't you see, the Eighteenth Miss is dying for something to happen to my lady so she can take her place as the rightful daughter. What's the point of asking her? If something happens to the lady, then we might as well go with her! Better that than falling into the hands of these heartless wretches and suffer humiliation!"

Xing Niang and Wan Lu, Ran Yan processed this information about the two people, such a bizarre situation left her stunned on the ground, momentarily forgetting to get up.

"You! Someone, tie up this lowly slave who does not know her place!" The voice was shrill and piercing, clearly at the apex of rage.

The sounds of footsteps amid the chaos outside grew closer and closer. Ran Yan lay on the ground, struggling to turn her head, facing the door.

Before Ran Yan could rise, the door was suddenly slammed open.

The outside rain brought a damp chill with it, cool air seeping into spleen and lungs—the first thing she saw was a pair of petite feet in wooden clogs and damp socks. The high wooden soles were soaked by rain, looking extremely heavy.

The newcomer seemed shocked by the sight of Ran Yan lying on the ground, eyes wide open. She exclaimed in surprise and took several steps back, steadied by her maid.

It was not only her who was scared, but everyone present. Xing Niang and Wan Lu shook off their restraints and hurriedly rushed forward, calling out in terror, "Wife! Wife!"

"Wife" was a term used for women in the Tang Dynasty, a notion faintly popped into Ran Yan's head. She exertly tried to lift her head and saw two anxious faces—one wrinkled with white hair at the temples, thin to the bone with tears streaming down, and the other, a girl around sixteen or seventeen with almond eyes, a delicate nose, full lips, and a small red mole near her mouth. Apart from the hollowness of her cheeks due to being too thin, she was quite pretty indeed.

They were Xing Niang and Wan Lu who served her.

"Wife! Are you awake? How can you lie on the ground like this, what if you catch a cold again?!" Xing Niang saw Ran Yan move, both shocked and overjoyed, abruptly stopped crying, and held her tightly in her arms, tears continuously falling.

Hemp and ramie clothes were a bit rough; Ran Yan sniffed the faint smell of soapberry, feeling a wave of warmth in her heart, and couldn't help but loathe the oppressive Ran Meiyu.

"Eighteenth Miss! My wife has awakened, she just needs to recuperate for some time before she will be completely recovered, no need to move her elsewhere." Wan Lu declared loudly, making sure the commotion was heard both inside and outside the house.

"Hmph, completely recovered? I fear it's but a flicker before extinction," sneered Ran Meiyu, her voice as sharp as her malicious words.

Ran Yan did not know where she wanted to take her, but seeing the two protective servants beside her crying their hearts out, she knew it was nowhere good. Whether it was a dream or reality, Ran Yan was not one to suffer losses.

She weakly coughed twice, "Help me up."

Her voice was hoarse, almost a breath-whisper—Xing Niang paused, then hurriedly helped Ran Yan up. Wan Lu stood protectively in front of her, a fierce look in her eyes, ready to perish together with anyone who dared come close, frightening the maids into halting their approach.

Since ancient times, even the cruelest have feared those with nothing to lose, and Wan Lu possessed just that sort of determination.

After standing up, Ran Yan could clearly see the young girl in front of her. At the age of fifteen or sixteen, she wore a cinnabar-colored dress that reached just below her breasts, covered by a translucent thin silk half-sleeve robe, densely and neatly stitched with golden begonia flowers. Her hair was styled in an elegant chignon, adorned with two finely crafted golden hairpins, and she had a naturally beautiful face with bright eyes and pearly teeth. However, her commanding presence combined with her previous malicious words left Ran Yan without a hint of fondness for her.

Ran Yan took a few steps forward, standing half a step away from Ran Meiyu. Ran Meiyu covered her mouth and nose with a sleeve in disgust, as if afraid of catching a disease, and shouted at the maids beside her, "Worthless maids, what are you waiting for? Pull her away quickly!"

Ran Yan looked at the maids with a deadpan expression, which scared them so much that it raised their hackles. They, too, were likely afraid that Ran Yan had contracted a contagious disease, and with Wan Lu's interference, the four of them couldn't muster the force to pull Ran Yan away.

Clearly, Ran Meiyu was not well-liked, otherwise why wouldn't even her own maids be willing to lay down their lives for her?

Ran Yan casually plucked one of the golden hairpins from Ran Meiyu's hair. She moved neither quickly nor slowly, but as Ran Meiyu was unwilling to face her head-on, she failed to react in time, and the maids, standing too far away, allowed Ran Yan to take it easily.

Ran Yan held the slender, six-to-seven-inch-long golden hairpin and sighed inexplicably, "It really is exquisite."

"Give it back to me!" Ran Meiyu, still essentially a child, saw her possession taken and forgot all caution, immediately reaching out to snatch it back.

Ran Yan seemed to have anticipated her move and had already stepped back seven or eight steps. Because she was weak and had moved too hastily, she stumbled, but fortunately, Xing Niang was there to support her so she didn't fall.

Ran Meiyu's maids weren't in a hurry to grab it back—after all, with so many of them, were they afraid they couldn't take back a single golden hairpin? They also wondered whether Ran Shiqi had become delirious from illness or madness from poverty, as she dared to rob someone publicly—how could she possibly escape?

Once Ran Yan steadied herself, she said indifferently, "What do you think others would make of me plunging your golden hairpin into my throat?"

As she spoke, the sharp end of the hairpin was already pressed against her own throat, slicing through her delicate, porcelain-like skin, and blood burst out, clinging to her pale complexion like beautiful coral beads.

The pain of the hairpin piercing her skin made Ran Yan frown—everything in front of her truly was not a dream!

Ran Meiyu looked at Ran Yan with horror. She never expected the typically meek and bullyable Ran Shiqi would be so ruthless to herself. Looking at that flawless, pale face devoid of any sign of life, with slightly furrowed brows and deep, well-defined eyes, which although were fixed on her, seemed as if they saw nothing, instilled in Ran Meiyu the fear that the woman before her was a walking corpse. She trembled as she said, "Ran Shiqi, you—you're mad!"

"Wife, you mustn't do this, you mustn't!" Xing Niang was frantic and reached out to snatch the hairpin.

"Xing Niang!" Ran Yan commanded sharply, "If your hand moves one inch closer, I can't guarantee how deep it will go." Her voice was so cold it left no doubt about the seriousness of her words.

Wan Lu was a bit calmer than Xing Niang, and she noticed that her mistress was acting out of character today. It seemed she didn't really want to take her own life, but her actions were so decisive and different from usual, even her demeanor had changed. Therefore, when Ran Yan held the hairpin to her throat, Wan Lu hesitated, but now there was no room for thought; with "enemies" in front of them, she could only tense herself and focus on making sure her mistress didn't truly commit suicide.

Seeing Ran Yan's lifeless, pallid face, Xing Niang felt a wave of despair, with sorrow welling up from within. Ever since the lady had passed away, the rightful daughter had been abandoned at the estate to fend for herself. They'd been allocated some money for medicine the first year, but now they weren't given even that. The stepmother reigned supreme, and when they pleaded several times, not only did they fail to receive a penny, but they also were beaten black and blue. The stepmother was pushing the rightful daughter to death. Such torture made living perhaps worse than death—it might be better to end it all!