Chapter 12: Stirring Up Trouble (Part Two)

The Lady Leng spewed nothing but filth, every word vulgar and slanderous, tarnishing Anran’s reputation, her eyes brimming with malicious delight and the twisted satisfaction of revenge.

Suddenly, with two crisp slaps, a shadow flickered, and Lady Leng’s face was struck twice. Her cheeks swelled red and hot in an instant, the pain searing.

Anran landed lightly, glanced absently at her own hand, then frowned and spoke softly, “Wanxia, fetch me some water to wash my hands.”

“Yes, miss!” Wanxia hurried away, her face devoid of impatience or amusement, her respectful demeanor almost puppet-like in its precision.

“You wretched girl, how dare you strike me! I am the wife of the Grand Chancellor, and you are nothing but a lowly servant!” Lady Leng clutched her face, seemingly unable to believe what had just happened, her finger trembling as she pointed at Anran.

For years, she had wielded power in the Chancellor’s residence, needing only to curry favor with Lu Anrong’s elderly mother and gently coax Lu Anrong himself. With the Lu family’s authority in her grasp, when had she ever suffered such humiliation? These two slaps from Anran ignited a blazing hatred in her chest, impossible to suppress.

And what had that wretch said? Fetch water to wash her hands—an insult beyond imagining! If Leng Yiyun did not teach this girl a lesson today, how would Moon City know who truly ruled here?

“I do not know what you mean by ‘roll out,’ but I do know that a foul mouth earns a slap. Now, Madam Chancellor, you may roll back in!”

“You—” Lady Leng ground her silver teeth in fury, her face flushed deeper in the setting sun as she glared venomously at Anran. Why did Anran’s eyes seem so familiar?

Those eyes seemed to draw her in, tugging her attention ever deeper, so that she could not break free for a moment.

Anran had imagined countless times how she would feel upon seeing Leng Yiyun and Lu Anrong again, but she had never expected this calm, so serene it surprised even herself.

She regarded Lady Leng with a tranquil gaze, her eyes unruffled, though her crimson dress burned like blood and a cold aura radiated from her. She favored red, as vivid as a child’s fresh blood, a constant reminder of her hatred—her hatred…

The more furious Leng Yiyun became, the more satisfied Anran felt. Lu Junfan’s ruined legs were but a mere greeting gift to them. The pain and hatred they had once inflicted upon her, she would return a hundredfold.

“Madam Lu, you are the legitimate daughter of General Leng, are you not? General Leng was known for his strict household—how could he have raised a daughter so ill-mannered and foul-mouthed? You call people wretches at every turn—could it be that you are an imposter, hiding behind a borrowed face?” Anran’s lips curled into a cold smile, her voice soft yet clear enough for all around to hear.

A murmur of shock rippled through the crowd. Could the Chancellor’s wife truly be a fraud? It was said that Lady Lu rarely left her chambers, having fallen seriously ill after the Leng family’s massacre and not stepping outside in years. Was it guilt that kept her hidden?

Rumors spread like wildfire, and the Lu family was suddenly thrust into the eye of the storm.

Lady Leng was momentarily stunned, her pupils dilated in disbelief that Anran would dare say such things. Ignoring the murmurs of the people, she glared at Anran and shouted in outrage, “Nonsense! Though my brother failed to repay the Emperor’s kindness and brought ruin upon himself, the dead should not be slandered! How dare you defame my ancestors!”

Fear gripped Lady Leng’s heart, for indeed she was an imposter, having assumed the identity of Leng Yiran’s legitimate daughter. That was why, in those years past, Lu Anrong had coldly allowed her to kill Leng Yiran.