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After sending off Feng Yin, she went straight to the Living Room and asked condescendingly, "Xiao Jing, could you call Shen Deputy Officer and ask if Shaoyi will be back tonight?"
Xiao Jing remained calm. Although she was already married, she still resided at the Shangguan Residence, not for any other reason but out of gratitude for the past kindness of the Shangguan Family. She wanted to help the Shangguan Family during their slight decline as a way to repay their kindness. When Cheng Mosu was around, he never treated her as a servant and was very kind to her. Even Shangguan Yiting respected her. However, Jiang Yating's treatment of her was truly disheartening.
"What's wrong? Didn't you hear me?" Jiang Yating raised her voice, her almond-shaped eyes wide open.
Xiao Jing naturally ignored her and rolled her eyes. It was only then that Jiang Yating realized. Xiao Jing had married Shen Mingliang and had become Madam Shen. Now she was merely helping out at the Shangguan Family, and it was understandable that Jiang Yating mistakenly treated Xiao Jing as a servant; no wonder Xiao Jing was displeased.
She forced a smile and quickly said, "Madam Shen, please don't think too much of it. I'm just used to giving orders at home and haven't adjusted yet." She held Xiao Jing's delicate wrist and continued, "Look, we're about the same age; let's call each other sisters from now on, how does that sound?"
Xiao Jing had a good temper as well. Seeing Jiang Yating show weakness made her feel more at ease. She replied, "You are overthinking it, Madam; I can't accept calling you sister."
"Oh, what's the big deal?" Jiang Yating's smile became even brighter, her teeth like pearls. "If you don't agree to call me sister, I might think you haven't forgiven me. By the way, Xiao Jing, you're twenty-one years old, one year older than me. How about this: I'll call you sister, and you can call me younger sister, okay?"
"This..." Xiao Jing felt quite troubled and looked at her hesitantly. After a moment of thought, she quickly said, "I'll call to check if Young Master will be back today."
Jiang Yating smiled sweetly, her eyes sparkling. "Then I'll trouble you, sister."
As she watched Xiao Jing turn away to get the phone, she slowly withdrew her gaze and smile. Her slender fingers transformed into a sinister force as they clenched into a fist. The dark gleam in her eyes revealed a hint of malice; deep schemes were brewing in her heart.
After Xiao Jing hung up the phone and turned around, she immediately regained her radiant smile. Xiao Jing paused for a moment before lowering her gaze and said, "Mingliang said that Young Master will be back tonight but will be late; please don’t wait for him."
"Okay, I understand," Jiang Yating replied as she turned and went upstairs.
She sat quietly in her room, applying her makeup in front of the mirror, practicing the expressions of Cheng Mosu with her limited memory. She needed to control Shangguan Shaoyi completely, to make him hers and use him for her own purposes. She wanted to help him reach the pinnacle, while she manipulated everything from behind the scenes. She desired this Nation, wanting to break free from the shadow her mother had cast over her since childhood.
A transparent glass cup held boiling water, into which she poured a packet of powder without hesitation. This was an aphrodisiac, but to ensure everything went perfectly, she needed to dress up as Cheng Mosu. In that state of confusion, Shangguan Shaoyi would be unable to discern the truth, and she would solidify her position as Consort Shangguan.
Even if afterwards Shangguan Shaoyi resented and hated her, what did it matter? The die had been cast; there was no turning back. If she were lucky enough to conceive a child with the Shangguan Family through this opportunity, that would be even better. She saw Shangguan Shaoyi clearly and believed that with enough time, someone as cold on the outside yet kind-hearted as he would be moved by her. By then, who would care about the underhanded means she had employed?
Cheng Mosu was dead, yet she was alive.
The Rosewood Clock slowly pointed to three in the morning as she waited for his arrival in an atmosphere devoid of drowsiness.
Shangguan Shaoyi ascended the stairs step by step, recalling what Nan Wan had said to him earlier that day. Mr. Nan Wan's informants in New Beicheng had been tracking Ruan Yu's whereabouts but spotted a young lady in a veil. Although they did not see her countenance, her demeanor and walking style were strikingly similar to Cheng Mosu's. Consequently, he had dispatched several people to search for this young lady.
He still held onto a glimmer of hope; although the explosion had been terrifying and violent, Cheng Mosu's body had never been found. While it was highly likely that her remains had been destroyed in the blast, his sense of luck still lingered.
But if it truly was Cheng Mosu, why not reveal herself to him?
With mixed emotions, he slowly climbed the stairs and pushed open his bedroom door, only to be momentarily stunned.
The woman with her back to him wore a moon-white Qipao, and soft yellow light cast a delicate veil over her pristine appearance. Her flowing hair was elegantly styled into a bun, exuding grace and subtlety. As she turned and walked towards him with steps like a willow swaying in the wind, her delicate features radiated an irresistible allure.
He furrowed his brow and said, "Why are you in my room at this hour? And why are you dressed like this?"
Jiang Yating smiled lightly as she looked at his strikingly tall figure; the medals on his military uniform shimmered under the light. A cold glint passed through Shangguan Shaoyi's eyes; no matter how Jiang Yating dressed herself up, the charm of Cheng Mosu's gentle smile and blushing shyness were qualities that no one could replicate.
He turned his eyes and saw a glass of just-right water on the table. He reached out, took it, and gulped it down. The cool liquid flowed down his throat, reaching every corner of his body. He set the glass down but felt an unbearable heat rising within him; even his vision began to blur, making it hard to distinguish the objects in front of him.
“Shaoyi…” A gentle voice called out to him. He struggled to maintain his willpower as the woman in the moon-white Qipao slowly approached him. Her delicate fingertips brushed against his breath, and a faint floral scent instantly enveloped his body.
Although his vision was already hazy, the fresh floral scent was unmistakably the perfume that Cheng Mosu often used. He was momentarily taken aback, with only one clear thought remaining in his mind: Cheng Mosu had returned…
He pulled the woman in front of him into an embrace, holding her close. She tilted her head back, playing with the long golden tassels beneath his medal. Overwhelmed by heat, he grasped her fingertips and pushed aside her Cloud Hairpin. Her thick, black hair immediately fell loose, flowing like clouds around his shoulder, enchanting yet disheveled.
“Cheng Mosu…” he murmured the name he thought belonged to her, wrapping his arms around her slender waist. The candlestick on the windowsill added a hint of floral fragrance, mingling with his last hope. His feverish breath spread near her ear like a wave of longing crashing beside him.
On the soft vintage European-style bed, circles of enchantment swayed as the scripted plot unfolded in the direction she had anticipated.
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