Meng Wan slowly shared with Meng Qi the parts of how she and Zhou Yu came to know each other that were fit for outsiders to hear. "The idea that the Marquis of Pingxi proposed was something he and his elder sister had discussed together. It not only saved face for you but also ensured that Grandfather wouldn’t take his anger out on Mother or you for losing the marriage alliance with the Commandery Prince Manor. More importantly, it allowed him to successfully marry me, leaving the Princess Consort of Prince Shen with no reason to object."
Meng Qi truly had not expected such a massive amount of information to be hidden behind it all. She rubbed her forehead with her hand; so that was how it was. She thought as much—someone as proud as Zhou Yu would have called off the engagement long ago, given her behavior, had it not been for the fact that the union was arranged by his birth mother before she passed away.
Meng Wan continued, "So, you don't need to feel guilty anymore. Me marrying Zhou Yu in your place did indeed resolve your predicament and salvaged your reputation, as well as that of the Huainan Marquis Estate. But ultimately, it was because that person was Zhou Yu. I am not that noble; if it had been someone I didn't know, I might not have agreed to marry into his family in your stead. For a woman, marriage is like being reborn. Some choose the joy of mutual affection, some choose the bonds of interest, some choose the face of a well-matched status, and others choose the bitterness of having no other choice."
Meng Qi looked at Meng Wan in surprise once again. She now truly admired her second sister. Based on what she had just said about the past, she would never believe that Meng Wan grew up in the environment she herself had known. Meng Wan was able to articulate these insights in a way that even she, having lived two lives and been tormented to such a degree, might not have fully grasped.
"No, I am grateful to you, but I am sincerely happy that you and Zhou Yu share a meeting of minds. Based on what you just said, Meng Juan is likely driven by interests. But what about me? What am I?"
Meng Wan looked at Meng Qi’s helpless expression and pondered. "How much do you not remember?"
"Ah? Oh! I mean from the time I snuck into Hong Zhe's carriage and got punished by Grandfather, which ended up implicating Mother."
Meng Wan understood. No wonder she seemed oblivious to everything about her own situation; that was the point after which Madam Wang had confirmed she was the daughter who had been "dead" for over a decade.
"Then you must not remember the time you met Prince Rui by chance at the Hong Family estate, either."
Meng Qi widened her eyes again. What? She had met Prince Rui? Judging by Meng Wan’s expression, she must have caused trouble again.
Meng Wan looked at Meng Qi’s expression and sighed softly. "Let me first answer your previous question. You asked what your marriage to Prince Rui counts as? I suspect it counts as a sacrifice—a sacrifice used by others to 'disgust' Prince Rui or to warn him."
Upon hearing the word "disgust," Meng Qi’s face turned slightly red, but she wasn't angry, because Meng Wan was absolutely right. Everything she had done in her past life had indeed been "disgusting" to Prince Rui.
That’s right—in her past life, she had also married Prince Rui.
Back then, after the carriage incident, she had been locked away in Qin Garden. Madam Wang was too ill to attend to her, Madam Jiang gave her nothing but cold looks, and Meng Wei’s wife, Madam Zhang—naturally timid and already marginalized—was overwhelmed with exhaustion while caring for Madam Wang along with her eldest daughter.
That was why Meng Juan had started visiting her so frequently. Especially after Meng Juan became betrothed to Zhou Yu, she had made Meng Qi feel immensely guilty, convincing her that she was the reason Meng Juan had to marry that "playboy" Zhou Yu. Meng Qi had practically poured her heart and soul into treating Meng Juan well.
The imperial decree for her marriage was completely sudden. She remembered it clearly: Grandfather had been stunned, then overjoyed. Her father had even rubbed his hands together, unusually amiable as he told her to prepare for the wedding.
It seemed everyone was happy, except for her mother, who watched her with a worried face.
That night, her mother had held her, tears streaming down, asking how a girl with her temperament could ever manage a prince's household. Being the Princess Consort wasn't easy. Even if Prince Rui was the most trouble-free among the adult princes and the one with the mildest temper, he was still a prince—the Emperor’s own son.
Tucked into her mother’s arms, her mind was filled with thoughts of how she had ended up betrothed to Prince Rui, and what she should do if Hong Zhe came to propose. It would be even harder to break off the engagement with the Prince then.
Not long after, Meng Juan came to tell her that Hong Zhe was betrothed to the youngest daughter of the Dongshan Camp commander.
Meng Qi felt as if the sky were collapsing. How could this be? She knew that girl—she wasn't as pretty as Meng Qi, she was dark-skinned, and had those upturned, unreasonable eyes; she had nothing to offer except being taller than Meng Qi.
Besides, she was the daughter of a Marquis estate, while that commander was merely a fourth-rank official. How could Hong Zhe have taken a fancy to her?
Meng Juan had hugged the weeping, heartbroken Meng Qi, telling her not to be sad, that there must be an inside story, and that it certainly couldn't have been Hong Zhe’s own wish—how could he defy the decision of his elders?
That must be it, Meng Qi thought as she wiped away her tears.
And then, she wrote that letter—the letter she would regret for the rest of her life.
The ridiculous part was that after being dragged back to Qin Garden by the servant women, her worry wasn't for her mother’s health, but for the idea someone had planted in her ear: *Die for them to see, and see if they still dare to force you to marry.*
Yes, die for them to see.
That night, Meng Qi hanged herself from the rafters of the east room in Qin Garden to show her resolve not to marry Prince Rui.
When she was cut down, her mind was a blank, but she clearly remembered Meng Changfeng’s roar that they would carry her to Prince Rui’s Estate even if they had to drag her there.
She wasn't carried; she arrived at Prince Rui’s Estate in a sedan chair. No one could understand why, after such a scandalous mess, Prince Rui still married her.
So, one could imagine what her life after marriage was like, especially three months later when she received the news of Madam Wang’s passing; she felt even more lonely and helpless.
Meng Qi snapped out of her memories, looking into Meng Wan’s concerned eyes.
"Was I too blunt? I didn't mean anything else by it, I just wanted to wake you up. If you continue to..."
Meng Qi waved her hand. "No, Second Sister is absolutely right. Everything I did was indeed 'disgusting' to Prince Rui. I never blamed you either. Although I was willful, I am not someone who doesn't know right from wrong. I know who in this family truly wishes me well."
Meng Wan exhaled. Looking at Meng Qi like this, she suddenly felt less worried about what Zhou Yu had told her.
"A-Qi, I am very happy that you think this way. There are some things I can now safely say to you."
Meng Qi was surprised. "Second Sister, please, feel free to speak."
Meng Wan said softly, "Let me first talk about some things you don't remember, and then analyze the reason for your betrothal to Prince Rui. Of course, this reasoning is what Zhou Yu and I analyzed together—it’s not necessarily gospel, but I’ll say it for your consideration."
Meng Qi nodded. This was truly wonderful. In her previous life, she had been muddled, and in this one, she had been completely in the dark. Even with all her aspirations, she couldn't find a direction. Having Meng Wan help her analyze things was the best outcome. Besides, based on what she had just said about her relationship with Zhou Yu, she had a new perspective on him—that boy certainly wasn't just what he appeared on the surface. Actually, it wasn't hard to understand; in such a complex family, if Zhou Yu didn't put on a mask, how could he have survived to this age? The funny thing was, in her past life, she had only looked at the surface of everything.
At the entrance of the west room, Hua Rui, Madam Wang's head maid, walked over. Seeing Yuantong and Chuan'er chatting, she said softly, "Have the two young ladies finished talking?"
Chuan'er stood up and smiled. "Not yet. Is something the matter, Sister Hua Rui?"
Hua Rui smiled. "The small kitchen just sent word that the ingredients are ready and asked when to light the fire. The Heir's Wife told me to check."
Yuantong also stood up. "I'm afraid it will be a little while longer. I’ll tell my mistress once I hear instructions."
As Chuan'er watched Hua Rui lift the curtain and exit, she whispered, "I’ve never seen the Second Young Lady and the Fourth Young Lady talk for so long."
Yuantong had been sent to the villa before Meng Wan was recognized and brought back, so she didn't understand the dynamic between the two sisters. She hadn't even heard of this matter at the villa and only learned of it upon returning.
She and Yuanyue truly couldn't believe that Su Qing, who had once taken orders from them, was actually the Heir's Wife's eldest daughter and the Second Young Lady of the Huainan Marquis Estate.
The quick-tongued Yuanyue had patted her chest, asking Yuantong to help her recall if she had ever made things difficult for the Second Young Lady when she was serving.
Yuantong hadn't thought that much about it. Back when they served together, she had always felt Su Qing was different—especially after Wanxiang and Ruchun had both been bested by her. Yuantong had held Su Qing in higher regard.
Especially later, when Mother Liu told her that the Heir's Wife had included them among the Fourth Young Lady's dowry maids, Yuantong knew that as the one destined to be a head maid, managing the second and third-tier maids would be crucial.
Therefore, Yuantong hadn't become overly close to Su Qing, but she had been polite and considerate. Furthermore, when Su Qing was on duty, one really couldn't find any fault with her.
Outside, the two maids chatted in low voices about what had happened in the estate during the months Yuantong was away.
Inside the room, the sisters had just brought their conversation to a pause.
After listening to Meng Wan, Meng Qi’s expression was no longer as shocked as before. Now it seemed there was nothing she couldn't understand. Whether in her past life or this one, she had fallen into the schemes of the Third Branch and the traps of the Hong Family.
Perhaps, in her past life, Meng Juan’s marriage to Zhou Yu was also a joint effort between the Hong Family and the Third Branch. The more Meng Qi thought about it, the more plausible it seemed. In her past life, after Meng Juan returned, she had taken the initiative to be close to her and always brought up Zhou Yu’s "misdeeds" intentionally or unintentionally, saying he wasn't worthy of her. It wasn't the "clash of needles" state that Meng Wan described for this life.
In this life, she had staged that carriage incident again, but since Meng Wan had married Zhou Yu in her place, the Third Branch had directly joined forces with the Hong Family to facilitate the marriage between Meng Juan and Hong Zhe.
Yes, that must be it.
Meng Qi stood up and looked at the vibrant red scenery in the courtyard. Her mind suddenly felt clear. It was easier to handle things once she had thought it through. She also firmly believed in the reasoning Meng Wan and Zhou Yu had analyzed.
Regardless of whether the match with Prince Rui was the intent of the Palace, the Hong Family, or even Prince Jing or Prince Cheng, they clearly wanted to see her life turned upside down and to ensure she wouldn't be favored by Prince Rui.
She just didn't understand—why would a prince being marginalized by the Imperial Court be a threat to anyone?
Forget it; none of that was important. What mattered was that she now had a clear direction and had guessed the reasons; she could finally have some control over everything.
Meng Qi suddenly felt that since her rebirth, the heavy burden on her shoulders had lightened significantly. The confusion and the unknown suddenly had a direction. Although it wasn't perfectly clear yet, it was much better than fumbling in the dark like a blind person touching an elephant.