"Miss! Miss!"
The frantic pounding on the door was followed by Shu-er bursting into the room. Her face was flushed, and her breathing was ragged as if she had run all the way from the city gates.
I looked up from my tea, my brows furrowing. "What has happened to cause such a commotion?"
"Miss... outside... they are..." Shu-er's voice hitched, her words lost in stutters. Panic flared in my chest.
My mind immediately raced to my mother's health and my brother's. Had the Prime Minister struck again? Had the little stone fallen ill?
"Breathe, Shu-er. Speak slowly. What happened?"
"Miss" she finally gasped, her eyes brimming with tears. "I was at the market for the seedlings you requested. The tea houses... the stalls... everyone is talking. They are saying that you tried to murder the Young Master! They say you almost killed the young master with black magic and that only Physician Zhang's divine intervention saved the his life."
"Miss, they are deliberately blackening your name!" Qin-er added, her voice trembling with indignation. "They are turning the capital against you before you have even stepped out of the manor!"
I felt a sudden, cold wave of relief. I let out a long sigh, my shoulders relaxing. So, it wasn't about Mother or Shi-Tou. It was just words.
"Don't listen to the idle chatter of the streets," I said, my voice calm as still water.
"So what if they speak ill of me? Will their gossip fill our coffers or make us rich?"
"But Miss, your reputation!" Shu-er cried, her face etched with worry. In this era, a woman's name is her life.
"Ruin or not, I am still a child who hasn't been formally introduced to society," I reassured them, my gaze steady. "The Qixi Festival is still weeks away. I have a lifetime of days to correct their thoughts about me. There is no need to fret over a few rumors started by a humiliated physician."
"Miss... it will be so hard for you to find a good marriage match if this spreads," Qin-er mumbled, lowering her head.
I nodded slowly. I couldn't simply tell them that I had no desire to be some official's wife or a prince's discarded pawn.
"Reputation can be mended as long as the foundation is built on truth. But a heart consumed by anger is difficult to calm. It breeds illness and rot. As long as we live happily and peacefully inside the manor for now, it is enough."
I turned back to my tea, but my mind was already thinking far ahead. In this world, reputation was the root of social acceptance, a delicate silk thread that could hang a woman or weave her a throne.
Physician Zhang or Ruo-Lan or whoever had fired the first shot and it would be a shame if we don't buckle up our defenses.
"Qin-er, Shu-er, dry your eyes. If they want to play with stories, we shall give the people a story they will never forget."
I gesture them closer, my voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.
"Shu-er, when you hear another rumors do not defend me. Instead, act as if you are terrified. Tell the other maids that the Eldest Miss has been possessed by a divine medical spirit after her fever. Mention how little stone whom Physician Zhang had been trying to cure for the past months, laughed the moment I touched him."
"And Qin-er," I continued, "find the most talkative vendor. Mention strictly as a secret that Physician Zhang was so embarrassed by his failure that he fled the manor in tears, and that the Prime Minister is so pleased with me that he's already thinking of rewarding my divine intervention."
"Exactly" I replied with a cold smirk. In the capital, a reputation for evil is bad, but a reputation for incompetence is a death sentence for a doctor.
The following morning, the atmosphere in the Tang Manor had shifted. While Mo-Xian remained in her courtyard, sipping her medicinal tea and meticulously applying her homemade skincare cream, the seeds she had planted began to sprout in the most public parts of the capital.
In the Fragrant Lotus courtyard, Ruo-Lan was enjoying a quiet afternoon with the daughters of the Second Branch. She wore a look of studied concern, her fingers daintily touching the silk embroidery hoop.
"It is such a shame about eldest sister," Ruo-Lan sighed, her voice loud enough for the nearby maids to hear. "To think she would resort to such dangerous methods with our little brother. I only hope the people's anger doesn't reach Father's ears too harshly."
Wang-Yao, the eldest of the Second Branch, sneered. "Why should you care? Her reputation is already in the gutter. By tomorrow, the whole city will know she's a—"
"Actually," a young maid interrupted, scurrying into the pavilion with a pale face, "Second Miss... the talk in the market has... changed."
Ruo-Lan's needle paused. "Changed? Has the outrage grown?"
"No, Miss" the maid whispered, looking around nervously. "They are saying that Physician Zhang lied to cover his own incompetence. They say the Eldest Miss didn't use black magic, but a divine sea-essence that saved the Young Master's life in seconds. The commoners are calling her a Hidden Bodhisattva who has been hiding her brilliance for years."
Ruo-Lan's grip tightened on the embroidery hoop until the wood creaked. She felt a sudden, sharp chill. This wasn't supposed to happen. Mo-Xian was supposed to be the villain, the murderer.
"A Hidden Bodhisattva?" Ruo-Lan repeated, her voice trembling with suppressed rage. "Who started such nonsense?"
"The vendors say the Prime Minister himself is keeping the news quiet because he's so embarrassed that a mere Physician almost let the heir die" the maid added. "They say the Eldest Miss is the only reason the Tang lineage still exists."
Ruo-Lan stood up abruptly, her White Lotus mask slipping for a fraction of a second.
A soft, fragile smile bloomed on Ruo-Lan's face, the very image of a weary sister.
"Sisters, I fear I must bid you farewell for now," she said, her voice trembling just enough to invite sympathy. She pressed a dainty hand to her temple. "My head has begun to throb with a sudden dullness. I must rest a while."
She was fuming, her blood boiling like a scorched cauldron, but she maintained her poise until the very last second.
"Of course, Second Sister," Yan-Ning, the Fourth Miss, replied "Please, do not overexert yourself. We shall take our leave."
The moment the door to her private chambers clicked shut, the image of innocence vanished.
Ruo-Lan let out a raw, jagged scream that startled the birds in the courtyard. She reached for a celadon vase an expensive gift from the Prime Minster to her mother—and hurled it against the wall. The sound of shattering porcelain echoed like a gunshot in the silent room.
The door opened and Madam Li stepped in, her eyes sweeping over the debris with practiced calm.
"That wench, Mo-Xian!" Ruo-Lan shrieked, her chest heaving. Her fingernails dug so deeply into her palms that red crescents began to bloom on her skin.
"She is a ghost, I swear it! Every time I try to suppress her, she finds a way to climb higher! She is making me look like a fool in front of the whole manor!"
Madam Li didn't flinch. Instead, she smoothed her silk skirts and sat down gracefully, her eyes drifting to her own intricately painted fingernails. She looked as peaceful as a pond in autumn.
"Lan-er," Madam Li said, her voice like velvet, "this is the third time you have allowed her to trumple you."
"Mother! She counters every move I make!" Ruo-Lan's face was flushed a violent crimson, her elegance entirely forgotten.
Madam Li finally looked up, her gaze sharp and cold despite her soft tone. "Then perhaps it is time you stepped up your game. I did not raise a daughter to be a mere stepping stone. Do not let me find that I have raised a fool who can be stumbled by a pebble like Mo-Xian." And smiled.
She spoke as if they were merely discussing the blooming peonies in the garden, but the threat in her words was as sharp as a concealed dagger.