Chapter Fifty-One: What Are You So Proud Of?

Shen Tangyu’s hand clenched tightly, her teeth biting hard behind her crimson lips. Of course she was anxious, but she was destined to be a princess, to become empress! How could she marry just anyone? What did they mean by saying her standards were too high? How could those ordinary men possibly be worthy of her? If she were to marry, it would naturally be into the imperial family!

Wretch! That damned wretch!

“Your Highness speaks truly, but marriage is predestined, it’s not so easily arranged. I’m not as fortunate as you, to enter the palace and immediately become pregnant.” The more Shen Tangyu spoke, the more hatred grew in her heart. If she had entered the palace instead, with her status as the legitimate daughter of the Shen family, a pregnancy would have easily overshadowed that lowly Lin Yunya. If only she were the one, she would not be mocked repeatedly by the despicable Shen Fuyu today!

“It’s good that you understand, I only wish the best for you.” Shen Fuyu counted the rising anger within, feeling exceedingly pleased. Having lived so many years, she understood people like Shen Tangyu best: proud as a peacock, arrogant, always striving upward. The more she treated her as ordinary, the more it drove her ambition, and Shen Tangyu never disappointed—her anger now rivaled that of Jing Lanxi.

Moreover, the marriage-urging tactic worked wonders!

Having strolled for a while, Shen Fuyu grew tired and, spotting a pavilion ahead, decided to sit and rest. As she approached, she noticed several people seated inside, who hurriedly stood upon seeing her and Shen Tangyu.

“Greetings to Her Highness the Virtuous Consort, and to the eldest young lady.”

The leading young woman held a child, nearly a year old, gazing about with large, curious eyes from her mother’s arms.

“Fourteenth Sister looks a little bigger than when I entered the palace,” Shen Fuyu remarked, smiling as she took the child from her. Perhaps it was her many years of life, but she found children especially endearing at this age—adorable and quiet. “Do you remember me? I’m your Fourth Sister.”

Little Fourteen, Shen Xingyu, stared at Shen Fuyu with round, sparkling eyes, then giggled twice. Shen Fuyu sat down with her, kissed her, and asked, “Why bring Fourteenth Sister out now? Does Third Aunt know?”

The nurse, Mrs. Li, who had brought Shen Xingyu out to play, knelt and replied, “It was the Third Madam’s idea. The weather is pleasant, and with the old lady’s birthday today, she wanted Fourteenth Miss by her side. Unfortunately, Fourteenth Miss began to fuss, so she asked me to bring her out.”

“Does Your Highness favor children?” Shen Tangyu sat opposite, gazing at Shen Xingyu without much affection. As the legitimate daughter of the Yue family, Shen Xingyu’s birth had pleased their grandmother immensely and had taken away what should have belonged to her. Shen Tangyu felt little kinship with her so-called blood sisters. “Fourteenth Sister seems eager to walk lately. She’s mischievous—better let the nurse take her away, lest she mess up Your Highness’s gown.”

“Eldest Sister, that’s where you’re wrong,” Shen Fuyu replied, holding Shen Xingyu and glancing at Shen Tangyu. “Children are naturally lively at this age. You were just the same when you were little. It’s fine if you don’t like her, but it’s a problem if you resent her.”

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“Your Highness jests—I would never resent my own sister,” Shen Tangyu said stiffly, though she forced a smile.

“Why not hold her for a moment?” Shen Fuyu offered the child to her.

Shen Tangyu instinctively backed away, betraying her true feelings. Shen Fuyu shook her head. “See? And you were just trying to argue.”

Shen Tangyu clenched her fingers. “What do you mean, Your Highness? Surely I wouldn’t dislike my own sister?”

“Of course you would,” Shen Fuyu replied matter-of-factly, holding Shen Xingyu. “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“But it’s normal not to like her. After all, you haven’t married, haven’t experienced motherhood. You wouldn’t understand. Still, you should learn. At your age, you must be anxious to wed, and once married, you’ll need to bear children. If you don’t adapt, how will your husband’s family see you as a competent mother? Wouldn’t that bring shame to our Shen family?”

Shen Tangyu bit her lower lip in frustration, suppressing her anger. “Nurse, take Fourteenth Miss back. Don’t let Third Aunt worry.”

Seeing Shen Tangyu’s fury, Mrs. Li hurriedly carried Shen Xingyu away after offering her respects.

“So, you’re living quite well in the palace, aren’t you?” Once they were alone, Shen Tangyu’s brows furrowed instantly. “Have you forgotten how you used to bow and scrape before me?”

“Don’t forget that Mistress Wen is still in my hands. If you want her to live well, you’d best step aside! Think carefully about how you became Virtuous Consort—what you took from me, you’d better be ready to give back!”

“Oh.”

But what did the original mother have to do with her?

She had agreed to enter the palace to counter the bad luck, for the sake of the anger she could harvest—not for Mistress Wen’s life. In truth, it was the original owner who died first, and she merely took over her body. It hardly counted as stealing someone else’s place.

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Watching Shen Tangyu’s flustered rage, Shen Fuyu’s inner space soared with delight. Could anything be more perfect?

“What do you mean?” Shen Tangyu glared, her anger rising as Shen Fuyu’s smile grew wider. “You wretched thing! Do you really think entering the palace makes you safe? You don’t even know your own worth!”

“Today is Grandmother’s birthday. I won’t argue with you. Whether Mistress Wen lives or dies, or suffers worse than death, you’d best weigh it yourself!”

Shen Tangyu’s face twisted with disdain. After all, she was just the child of a concubine—low-born, even if she became Virtuous Consort. Her mother was at her mercy, so she’d still have to obey! Just as she’d been forced to enter the palace in her stead to counter bad luck!

“But really, you only control a concubine—why are you so pleased with yourself?” Shen Fuyu wondered. Shen Tangyu seemed so smug. “A concubine, sold off as easily as a maid, and you hold her fate in your hands as if it’s some great achievement...”

So distasteful—why did Shen Tangyu seem so useless?

She’d expected Shen Tangyu to threaten her directly, perhaps even with a bowl of abortive medicine. She had overestimated her.

Saving a concubine wasn’t particularly difficult. Shen Tangyu could make Mistress Wen’s life hard, but killing her wasn’t so simple.

“You!” Shen Tangyu’s eyes widened. Mistress Wen was her birth mother, and this wretch didn’t even care? No, the contempt in her eyes was clear!