Chapter 120 Tell Me, What Kind of Situation Is This?…

Chapter 120: Tell Me, What Kind of Vengeance Is This?

Master Yu’s intentions were clear from her expression and demeanor.

A Chan suddenly recalled their previous encounter with Master Yu, when they had been discussing the "brother" Bao Er mentioned. Even then, Master Yu’s emotions had seemed unsettled. Now, the conversation was once again about that child.

A somewhat absurd thought flickered in A Chan’s mind. She leaned closer to Lin Sui and whispered, "Can we stop her without being noticed?"

"We can, but she’ll see us."

"That’s fine. I want to know why she wants to kill the Princess of Xinan."

Lin Sui nodded, equally curious. Her gaze swept the ground, and she picked up a small pebble. Channeling her internal energy into her hand, she flicked the pebble with a sharp *whoosh*, striking Master Yu on the shoulder.

Master Yu, whose attention had been entirely fixed on the Princess of Xinan, was startled by the sudden pain. She swiftly tucked the dagger back into her sleeve, glanced around, and then spotted two heads peeking out, one after the other, from behind the rockery opposite her.

A Chan and Master Yu met eyes across the distance. Under A Chan’s steady gaze, Master Yu froze for a moment before slowly retreating into the bamboo grove.

The three remained silent and still until the voices of the Princess of Xinan and Bao Er faded into the distance.

A Chan and Lin Sui emerged first from behind the rockery, A Chan still cradling the flowers she had taken from Bai Yue. Instead of leaving, they stood quietly, waiting. Finally, Master Yu stepped out from the bamboo.

She stopped a few paces away, her eyes devoid of the panic one might expect from being caught in an attempted murder, only a deathly calm. "Aren’t you going to report me to the authorities?"

"Report what? That you tried to kill the Princess of Xinan? We have no proof."

"But the people of Prince Ying'an’s household would believe you."

"Would they?" A Chan shrugged nonchalantly. "What does that have to do with us?"

"If it doesn’t concern you, why did you stop me?" Master Yu asked.

A Chan pondered for a moment before replying, "If you had used that dagger to kill the mother and daughter, you would have been splattered with blood. I suspect you didn’t have a complete plan, not even an escape route. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision to kill. So, if you had succeeded, you would have been caught very quickly."

Master Yu said nothing, for A Chan had guessed correctly.

She had come to the capital fully prepared mentally, even able to face them without emotional波动. Yet, that woman’s few words had provoked her.

Hadn’t she anticipated this? But hearing it aloud, her emotions had spiraled out of control. In that moment, all she could think was: *I must kill that woman to avenge my Che Er.*

She had come so close.

"If she dies, what does it matter if I lose my own life?"

"Whatever grievance you hold against the Princess of Xinan, it’s not worth sacrificing your life for an enemy," A Chan said slowly.

Master Yu let out a bitter laugh. "Easy for you to say. You know nothing, so how can you judge what’s not worth it? She *deserves* to die!"

"If you’re willing to tell us, we’d be very interested to hear why she deserves to die."

Master Yu fell silent, seemingly unwilling to share her story.

Lin Sui spoke coldly from the side, "You’re not afraid to kill, yet you’re afraid to speak the truth?"

Perhaps sometimes, the truth is simply too difficult to utter.

A Chan yawned, feeling quite sleepy. She blinked her tired, aching eyes and said, "Never mind. This isn’t a good place for a chat. I usually stay at the incense shop in Changping Lane. If you have time another day, Master Yu, you’re welcome to find me there."

Seeing that Master Yu still didn't react, A Chan didn't press further. She simply said, "There are many ways to seek revenge; it’s not just about killing and paying with your life. If you can’t think of another way out, perhaps others can."

Having said her piece, A Chan turned to Lin Sui. "Let’s go. We’re going home. I’m a bit sleepy."

Lin Sui took the potted flowers from A Chan, and they walked away together.

Only after they had gone far did Master Yu turn around, watching their retreating figures. She raised a hand to touch her own cold face, her eyes flickering with an indecipherable light.

After leaving Prince Ying'an’s manor, A Chan fell asleep in the carriage. By the time she woke, she was already in her own bedroom at home.

Outside, a light rain had begun to fall at some point, casting the room in dimness. Snug under a soft, thick quilt, she felt no chill.

A Chan lay on the bed for a while, thinking that after this autumn rain, the weather would only grow colder. Winter would arrive so soon.

After a short while of lingering in bed, she picked up an outer robe from the bedside and put it on before stepping out of the bedroom.

The rain outside was light, dripping from the eaves and pattering softly on the ground. The potted flowers she had brought back earlier were placed beneath the eaves.

"Hui Niang," A Chan called from the doorway.

"You’re awake?" Chen Hui opened her door. Seeing A Chan’s just-woken appearance, she reminded her, "Go back inside. Don’t catch a cold from the wind."

"I know. Where’s Lin Sui?" A Chan shifted back slightly, craning her neck to ask.

"She couldn’t be woken up and went home after bringing you back."

Chen Hui closed her door and walked along the eaves to A Chan’s room. "I heard her say you encountered something unexpected at Prince Ying'an’s manor?"

"Indeed. And it involved Master Yu again."

A Chan and Chen Hui entered the room together. Chen Hui lit the candles, instantly brightening the space.

Sitting down in a chair, A Chan told Chen Hui, "I suspect there’s something wrong with the Princess of Xinan’s identity."

"How so?" Chen Hui asked, intrigued.

Though she and the Princess of Xinan were of similar age, their paths had rarely crossed after the Chen family’s decline. Still, she had seen the princess from a distance before.

A Chan recounted the events that had transpired at the prince’s residence, then added, "I can’t think of any reason why the Princess of Xinan would speak of her own son that way—saying he’d ‘never return.’ Coupled with Master Yu’s reaction, it made me question both their identities."

Chen Hui nodded. "Now that you mention it, the Princess of Xinan you described is quite different from the one I remember."

"What was the old Princess of Xinan like?" A Chan asked curiously.

Chen Hui recalled, "From what I remember, this princess was overbearing and prone to arguments—definitely not an easy person to get along with. What I remember most vividly is her 'snatching a husband' incident. It caused a huge stir at the time. Usually, families sent male relatives to secure a marriage after the imperial exams, but she was quite unique—she personally appeared and sent the prince’s guards to abduct the top scholar right off the street. That incident was quite sensational."

"What happened after? The emperor didn’t react to a royal princess abducting a scholar?"

"Before he could react, the scholar agreed to the marriage. Prince Ying'an settled the betrothal that very day before going to the palace to apologize. Once it became a private family matter, what more could the emperor say?"

"But the princess I saw today was graceful in her words and actions, with gentle eyes, and seemed to have a very good temper," A Chan briefly described her impression of the Princess of Xinan, then added, "I also heard she’s very filial—when the princess consort was seriously ill, she made a pilgrimage on her knees to the temple to pray for her."

Chen Hui said, "But as far as I know, the relationship between the County Princess and the Ying'an Princess was quite strained. They once had a public shouting match at a banquet. The princess consort was quite harsh with her words, and the County Princess held her ground. This was common knowledge at the time. Even if she still cared about their mother-daughter bond deep down, I think, given her temperament, she’d rather spend a fortune inviting all the monks from the temple to the palace to pray for the princess consort’s health than make the pilgrimage on her knees to the temple herself."

This wasn’t definitive, but the County Princess as Hui Niang knew her was a straightforward person—she’d abduct men she fancied, argue openly with her mother when they disagreed, and never hid her true feelings.

How could such a strong-willed and direct person suddenly become so different?

She also remembered Bai Yue saying that it was around that time the princess’s child went missing.

When all these things were connected, one couldn't help but overthink.

"Unfortunately, there’s no one to confirm these speculations," A Chan sighed softly. "I wonder if Master Yu will come to Changping Lane to find me?"

"I hope she does," Chen Hui murmured.

That afternoon, the rain had canceled the planned evening performance at the prince’s manor, so the troupe had returned to their lodgings early.

Once back in her room, Master Yu bolted the door and sat before her vanity. She stared at her reflection in the bronze mirror, then slowly raised her hand to touch behind her ear.

After a long moment, she exerted a little force—and peeled away her entire face, placing it aside.

What remained in the mirror was a smooth, white surface—not a human face, but something resembling a terrifying white mask.

Without emotion, she gazed at the inhuman reflection before returning to her bed and pulling out a box from beneath it. Inside lay a collection of demonic visages and a few human ones.

They were all fabricated—though not by her hand, she was the most suitable wearer for them.

Human faces weren’t perfectly smooth, and unless specially made, masks seldom sat perfectly.

But hers were different. These masks adhered flawlessly to her face, melding like a second skin.

Master Yu selected a ghostly mask and settled it over her features. The white layer beneath bonded seamlessly with the disguise.

Unfortunately, this fusion would only hold for no more than two days.

She had to keep cycling through faces, forever unable to possess a face of her own.

Master Yu sat back in her chair, gazing at the ghostly face in the mirror, recalling the Ying'an Princess’s words earlier that day—how her homely looks paled beside a ghost’s mask.

Because her own beautiful face had long been taken by her supposedly devoted daughter.

How absurd. After more than a decade, when she finally regained her memories and summoned the courage to return home, her family had completely forgotten her.

The one who stole her face had completely usurped her life. The once arrogant and defiant County Princess, who clashed openly with her mother, was now a gentle, virtuous woman—in perfect harmony with her husband and utterly devoted to her mother.

No one noticed anything amiss.

Even with the same face, their personalities were entirely different. Had they truly not sensed even the slightest anomaly?

A tide of unrelenting hatred welled up inside her. If she hadn’t come to the capital, she could have nursed a sliver of hope. But now, she was cast into utter despair.

*Is it not worth risking my life for revenge?* A Chan’s words suddenly resurfaced in her thoughts.

What alternative remained?

Could… that girl really help her?

Master Yu felt a flicker of uncertainty. She had never been one to trust easily. That girl was merely a chance-met stranger—someone she’d met only twice, whose name she didn’t even know.

But perhaps, after lingering in the abyss for so long, she dared not release any shred of hope.

The next day, A Chan and Chen Hui returned to Changping Lane.

Though they had planned to rest longer, A Chan remained preoccupied with Master Yu. Conjecture paled beside truth—she was far more curious about the actual circumstances.

But would Master Yu come to her?

On the first day back at the incense shop, she didn’t appear.

Nor on the third day.

On the fourth day, it rained from morning till dusk—still no sign of her.

A Chan reconciled herself to the thought that she wouldn’t come today either. It seemed she was doomed never to uncover the truth.

Just as she was about to close the shop, a slender figure, holding an umbrella, slowly approached from the street.

The umbrella was tilted low, veiling its bearer's features until they reached the doorstep. Then, it lifted slightly, revealing a pale face.

"Young lady, forgive my disturbance."

A hint of surprise crossed A Chan’s face as she stepped aside. "Come in."

Master Yu entered the shop, closing her umbrella and placing it by the door. A Chan shut the door behind her and led her further inside. "You’ve come at the right time—Hui Niang just finished cooking."

"I’ve already eaten."

"Alright, then let me finish my meal first before we talk, all right?"

Master Yu nodded. She had spent three days asking around Changping Lane about A Chan and learned she had no ties to the Ying'an Prince’s manor or that woman. She didn’t seem like someone sent to deceive her.

Even so, Master Yu held little hope—yet she had come anyway.

The two sat at the table, and soon after, Chen Hui emerged carrying a tray with a small bowl of rice and four dishes.

Setting the food down, she asked, "Has Master Yu eaten?"

Though Master Yu remembered A Chan more clearly, she recognized Chen Hui as the one who had accompanied her that day. She shook her head.

Noticing Chen Hui wasn’t eating either, she couldn’t help but ask, "Aren’t you having any?"

Chen Hui glanced at A Chan, who grinned mischievously before answering, "She doesn’t need to eat."

"Doesn’t… need to eat?" Master Yu seemed momentarily stunned.

"I’m not human. I don’t require food," Chen Hui said casually.

The best way to put someone at ease was to drop a shocking revelation—making their own secrets seem trivial in comparison.

That was exactly how Master Yu felt now.

"Please sit. I’ll tidy up in the backyard," Chen Hui excused herself after a short while.

A Chan wasn’t particularly hungry, eating only half a bowl before setting down her chopsticks.

Seated across from each other, the earlier exchange had eased some of Master Yu’s tension.

She fixed her gaze on A Chan and asked, "You said there’s another way to take revenge. Was that true?"

Instead of answering directly, A Chan countered, "That depends—what kind of revenge are we talking about?"

After a long silence, Master Yu spoke, every syllable thick with torment:

"That woman took my face, stole my identity, my family, my child. Tell me—what kind of vengeance is this?"