In the original novel, Mei Lin came from a small village beyond the city walls. She had never learned to read or write, nor had she been taught etiquette or poetry. The only skills she possessed were dressing hair neatly and applying light makeup.
Yet now, when Lin Yue's gaze fell upon the stack of neatly arranged scrolls on the table, she froze in place. Her brows knitted slightly as she looked toward the First Young Mistress in confusion.
This wasn't right.
According to the story, Lin Yuqin had been forbidden from attending lessons the moment she turned eleven, right after Lin An'an entered the Lin household under the pretense of "saving expenses."
From then on, Lin Yuqin could neither read nor write.
Because of this, she was mocked relentlessly within the household and quietly scorned by other influential families in the capital.
Her ignorance became a stain no one bothered to conceal.
In the end, even her engagement with Gu Zehan was annulled, the Gu family citing her lack of cultivation as the reason.
What followed was even crueler.
Driven by greed, the Lin family sold her off to a widower—an infamous playboy known for his lecherous reputation.
Later, when rumors spread that Lin Yuqin was pregnant by another man, the household turned its back on her completely.
Lin Yue remembered it clearly.
That child belonged to Xiao Chengyan—a man of fearsome power and striking looks, known throughout the capital for his ruthless methods and volatile temper.
He was decisive, merciless to his enemies, and utterly untouchable.
When Lin An'an discovered the pregnancy, fear consumed her.
Terrified that Lin Yuqin might use the child as leverage to climb into a powerful family, she acted without hesitation.
She personally ordered the destruction of the life growing in Lin Yuqin's womb.
Remembering this, Lin Yue's eyes darkened slightly as she stood quietly behind Mei Lin's lowered lashes.
If fate truly intended to repeat itself—
Then this time, she would tear that ending apart with her own hands.
"Young Mistress… are you thinking of continuing your education?" Lin Yue asked softly.
Lin Yuqin's fingers paused on her sleeve.
Her lips curved into a faint, restrained smile as she nodded.
She had thought about it many times. Perhaps if she learned to read and write properly—if she became more useful—her father might look at her differently.
Maybe he would soften. Maybe he would love her again.
What she didn't know was that Lin Yue's thoughts had already gone far beyond such simple hopes.
In the novel, Mei Lin was illiterate by design. Now living in her body, Lin Yue couldn't recognize a single character on the scrolls. Though fluent in modern Mandarin, the elegant classical script before her was no different from a foreign language.
But she remembered something else.
From the original plot—there had been a reclusive master living deep in the mountains, renowned for his learning and mastery of refined arts. In the novel, Lin An'an would eventually become his disciple.
If Lin Yue recalled correctly, the duke would summon that man to the capital the day after tomorrow to formally teach Lin An'an.
His name was Shen Qingshu.
An idea quietly took shape.
"Young Mistress," Lin Yue said carefully, "I've heard there's a teacher living in the mountains—someone exceptional, skilled in both knowledge and character. He's currently considering taking a student. If you could approach him, then perhaps—"
Lin Yuqin's eyes flickered in surprise.
Of course she had heard of him.
He was the very man her father had gone to great lengths to please, all to secure Lin An'an a place as his student.
It was even rumored that her eldest brother had personally gone to Shen Qingshu's village to persuade him—only to return the next day, unsuccessful.
But how could she possibly leave the courtyard without anyone noticing?
Her allowance to come and go was tightly restricted, and her every movement watched.
Leaving unnoticed was nearly impossible.
As if sensing her hesitation, Lin Yue chuckled softly.
"If the Young Mistress wishes to leave," she said lightly, "just tell me. I've already planned everything."
Lin Yuqin had never once doubted Mei Lin. Yet this time, disbelief flickered across her face. "How?" she asked.
Lin Yue merely hummed in response, her hands moved skillfully as she brushed and braided Lin Yuqin's hair.
The young mistress was truly beautiful.
Her features were delicate yet refined—long, graceful brows framing clear, almond-shaped eyes that carried a gentle sadness. Her nose was straight, her lips soft and pale, and her complexion fair as polished jade. Even dressed in plain robes, she possessed an elegance that could not be concealed.
It was a pity such beauty had been wasted on pleasing hypocrites who never truly saw her.
Lin Yue's heart tightened slightly.
If she were a man, she thought, she wouldn't hesitate for a second.
She would protect her, cherish her, and make sure Lin Yuqin received every ounce of love she had been denied.
She finished tying the ribbon and smiled faintly.
"Has anyone ever told the Young Mistress," Lin Yue asked gently, "just how beautiful you are?"