Chapter 3: Playing The Dead Sister

Yan Chiyun held a post at the Zhenfu Division and had always been keenly perceptive.

Almost the instant it happened, he sensed a gaze being cast from inside—different from usual.

As he handed his outer robe to the attendant beside him and subconsciously glanced inward, all he saw was the back of a little maid in pink rushing over, blocking his line of sight as she shielded a young lady dressed in a pale moon-white undergarment.

Thus, he only caught sight of her figure, not her face.

Recalling vaguely how this wife of his had always been taciturn and withdrawn in the past, Yan Chiyun did not linger and soon shifted his gaze away.

Not far off, Jing Chun was nearly frantic.

She stood in front of Pu Jinyu, lowering her voice as she urgently reminded her, “Miss!”

“You—you can’t appear like this right under the young master’s nose.”

Though the two sisters did resemble each other somewhat, once the makeup was washed away, a single glance was enough for anyone to tell them apart.

Back then, Lord Pu had been renowned in the capital as a paragon of virtue—upright, self-disciplined, married for many years with only one wife and no concubines.

Yet it was precisely such a Lord Pu who had secretly kept an outside woman for many years, which went to show just how stunning and captivating Concubine Ruan must have been.

Pu Jinyu was her daughter, and this face of hers surpassed even that, truly outdoing the source.

Even now, after so many years, Jing Chun still vividly remembered the day Concubine Ruan brought Pu Jinyu back to the Pu household.

The girl, barely of age, wore ragged, coarse clothes, yet they could not conceal her delicate beauty.

The drab greys only served to highlight her jade-like, luminous skin—aloof, pristine, untouched by dust.

She followed beside Concubine Ruan, ill at ease and at a loss, like a fawn that had wandered into a human estate by mistake, peering around with a mix of curiosity and nervousness.

After years of torment, that beautiful fawn had long since had its spirit worn down.

Who knew what had come over her today, that she had begun stirring trouble again.

“Miss…” Jing Chun dared not scold Pu Jinyu harshly the way Matron Wu did.

Madam Pu had once said that among those serving at her side, one must play the harsh role and the other the gentle one.

Matron Wu took on the former, and Jing Chun was meant to soften things afterward.

“But you—” Ever since yesterday, Jing Chun had felt that something about Pu Jinyu was off.

Now, it was as though her foreboding had been confirmed.

Just like at this moment—she was nearly frantic with anxiety, yet Pu Jinyu was calmly smiling as she said, “Why are you so nervous?”

“He’s already gone.”

She lifted her chin slightly toward the back.

Jing Chun was badly startled.

She cautiously glanced behind her, still remembering to block Pu Jinyu’s face, afraid she might be seen.

Sure enough, Yan Chiyun was nowhere to be seen.

Only then did Jing Chun finally breathe a little easier, her whole body breaking out in cold sweat.

The young lady before her, however, kept that faint smile at the corner of her lips.

With no powder or rouge on her face, her true features were revealed—beautiful and dazzling, yet inexplicably giving off a sense of danger.

“Why did you come out today without putting on any makeup?”

Jing Chun shielded her as she guided her toward the dressing table.

“Why don’t you ask my husband why he came back so early today?”

That light, offhand remark completely robbed Jing Chun’s words.

She was only a lowly maid—how would she dare question the current head of the Yan household?

Such matters belonged to the masters, especially when they involved official business.

Pu Jinyu let Jing Chun apply rouge and powder to her face, gradually transforming her features into those of her legitimate elder sister.

She idly toyed with a porcelain cosmetic jar and said, “You don’t dare question my husband, yet you come to question me?”

Jing Chun’s hand, holding the cosmetic brush, paused.

At that very moment, Pu Jinyu lifted her gaze and looked at her quietly.

Her eyes were naturally round and beautiful.

When she stared at someone without speaking, it inspired fear from the depths of the heart—let alone now, when her words carried a faint edge of aggression, her expression hovering between smile and not-smile.

“This servant… didn’t mean it that way,” Jing Chun said awkwardly, forcing a smile as she apologized.

“Please don’t misunderstand.”

Pu Jinyu lowered her lashes.

“You and Matron Wu keep saying that my identity is no longer what it once was, reminding me at every turn that I must cut myself off from the past.”

“I’ve always treated myself as my elder sister’s shadow, living in the Yan household in her stead.

But shouldn’t you treat me with the same courtesy you showed her?”

“Why is it that I feel there isn’t even a shred of the respect that ought to exist in private?”

“If you want me to truly play this role to the end, then the stage needs to be properly set.

Inside and out, everything must be taken care of—don’t just worry about appearances and neglect what lies beneath.”

“After all…”

She smiled again, her tone gentle yet chilling.

“My elder sister is already dead.”

“If I were to die as well, where would you find another person in this world who looks exactly like her, to take her place?”

“Jing Chun, don’t you think so?”

As she spoke, Pu Jinyu set the porcelain jar down on the table.

The fear and unease in Jing Chun’s heart grew heavier and heavier.

Yet there was nothing wrong with Pu Jinyu’s words—they even turned Matron Wu’s earlier reasoning back on her.

For a moment, Jing Chun did not know how to respond and stood there, distracted.

Until Pu Jinyu reminded her, “If you keep dawdling, my husband will be coming out of the study.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she had already spotted movement by the study.

Jing Chun snapped back to attention.

“…Th-this servant will apply your makeup right away.”

Pu Jinyu said nothing more.

She lowered her eyes, her emotions unreadable.

Jing Chun hurried her movements, no longer daring to ask whether Pu Jinyu was still resentful over Matron Wu’s words from before—every sentence she had spoken had felt barbed.

***

Yan Chiyun was handling case files transferred from the Ministry of Justice to the Zhenfu Division.

As he flipped through them, the guard beside him reported on the investigation’s progress, mentioning in passing that the Southern Zhenfu Division had been making frequent moves of late.

“Should this subordinate keep a closer watch?” the guard asked.

Yan Chiyun’s hand paused briefly over the files.

“No need.”

Though the Southern and Northern Zhenfu Divisions appeared to belong to the same office, in truth they checked and opposed each other.

“Yes,” the guard replied.

Some time ago, a master thief had appeared in the capital, silently stealing the Lu family’s heirloom—the Nine Linked Rings.

The Lu family, the foremost merchants of the capital, offered a hefty reward, drawing in many figures from the martial world as well as officials to help search for it.

Later, the Nine Linked Rings were resold into the capital’s largest underground gambling den.

In the struggle to seize the object, martial artists and officials actually came to blows, both sides suffering casualties.

That alone was not the most important part.

What truly mattered was that the underground gambling den was filthy to begin with.

Following the trail from the dead and injured exposed many long-buried cases, most of which involved people within the court itself—extremely thorny matters.

Thus, these days, official duties had been overwhelming.

A few days earlier, because of his younger sister’s wedding, he had to appear at home to receive guests, delaying progress.

Running back and forth was too troublesome.

He had planned to finish his work at the offices today and rest there for the night.

The reason he had to return home was because the Pu household had sent someone to remind him—it was the end of the month.

On the last day of the month, he had to return and share the bed with her.

Thinking of this, Yan Chiyun’s hand holding the brush paused.

“What time is it?”

The subordinate froze, then answered honestly, “It’s nearly the Hour of Chou.”

So late already…?

He glanced outside.

A single candle was still lit in the inner chamber, faint but not overly dim.

Yan Chiyun quickened his pace, finishing the files before him.

After the time it takes for a stick of incense to burn, he rose from the study and went to the bathing room.

***

Within the canopy curtains, Pu Jinyu lay in light sleep.

Though the man’s footsteps were soft, she still sensed them.

For years she had lived in constant fear, terrified of being discovered, never daring to sleep deeply in case something went wrong.

But now, she was someone who had already died once.

She feared nothing anymore.

She had meant to drift peacefully back to sleep, yet her body had been “carved” by the Pu family to the point that it no longer obeyed her own will.

To break free from this invisible “shackle” would still take time.

She closed her eyes, forcing herself not to listen to the sounds outside and to fall asleep quickly.

But no matter how she tried to calm herself, it was useless.

The more she avoided it, the more clearly she heard the man’s movements.

His bathing routine was the same as always—every step, almost without exception.

Soon, he was done, and the sound of footsteps drew closer to the bed.

She did not open her eyes, yet she could feel him lifting the canopy curtain, his gaze lingering on her.

Pu Jinyu remained completely still, lying quietly, not opening her eyes, not moving closer to him as she usually did.

That was what Pu Wange should have done.

But she was Pu Jinyu.

Yan Mingshu had just married yesterday.

Yan Chiyun had been swamped with official duties, not even returning home for dinner.

That he came back early tonight was clearly for one reason only—to consummate the marriage.

Ever since she married into the household, Madam Yan, Madam Pu, and the concubines had all been urging her to bear a child with Yan Chiyun.

But before her marriage, she had been raised in the countryside, her constitution far too frail, unable to compare with her elder sister’s fuller figure.

Even after returning to the Pu household and undergoing repeated dietary supplementation, there was no way to see results quickly in such a short time.

So Madam Pu had a physician prescribe remedies—medicinal baths, decoctions to drink.

Only then did there finally seem to be some visible improvement.

Perhaps those medicines had harmed her body.

In any case, she did not conceive in the first year after marriage.

In the following two years, it was even less likely.

Lord Yan’s old ailment relapsed.

Yan Chiyun took over as head of the household, leaving early and returning late, busy beyond measure.

His already lukewarm interest in marital relations grew even colder.

Madam Pu was anxious for her to conceive and secure her position, to give tangible substance to the alliance between the two families.

She feared that if the truth were exposed one day, there would be no relationship left to use as bargaining capital.

Thus, she deliberately had that old thing, Matron Wu, leak the matter into Madam Yan’s ear.

Madam Yan also wanted a grandchild, so she summoned the two of them and scolded them.

At the time, Pu Jinyu wore her false face, coaxing Madam Yan, yet still endured plenty of mockery.

In the end, it was Yan Chiyun who said he would pay attention to the matter, and only then was it reluctantly dropped.

After returning, Yan Chiyun told her that at the beginning and end of each month, he would make a point of sharing her bed.

As for the rest of the time, it would depend on how busy his official duties were, and she need not wait up for him.

Pu Jinyu had naturally raised no objections.

Today was the end of the month.

She had not expected that he would actually come back.

Wasn’t the court overwhelmed with matters?

Though she was merely a woman of the inner household and did not involve herself in court affairs, as a high-ranking official’s wife in the capital’s foremost noble family, she naturally paid attention.

She had to socialize, after all—to avoid missteps and prevent others from seizing leverage.

Yan Chiyun stood at the edge of the bed, staring at Pu Jinyu for a long time without moving.

As usual, he extinguished the candle.

By the dim moonlight alone, he could make out the contours of the young lady’s face on the bed.

He could faintly see that her face was painted with makeup.

Truthfully, he did not quite understand why, when it was already night and time to rest, Pu still insisted on applying rouge and powder.

Wasn’t it uncomfortable?

But he had heard that women loved beauty.

If she liked it and it did not affect him, then even if he did not understand, he would not interfere.

In the early days after their marriage, when they first shared the bed, the two of them had not yet adjusted to each other.

She was too delicate to bear it, trembling as she cried uncontrollably.

He stopped, intending to see whether her expression eased before continuing.

Yet she quickly turned her face away, afraid that he would see her, burying it straight into the soft pillow.

All he saw was her profile—tears mixed with sweat streaking down, smudging the makeup, leaving obvious traces.

The most dazzling sight was still that stretch of tender white neck; the Pu women’s skin was exceptionally fair and smooth.

In a muffled voice, she said she was embarrassed and asked if he could stop looking at her.

He fell silent for a moment, then shifted his gaze away as she wished.

After that, he did not continue either, only ending it hastily, like completing a routine task.

From then on, whenever they shared the bed, they would extinguish all the candles and carry out their intimacy in complete darkness.

Though it was meant to be the most intimate act between husband and wife, to him it made little difference.

It truly was nothing more than official business.

On schedule.

On the appointed days.

Do the task.

Settle the account.

For three years now, there had been no further connection between them.

They barely even spoke.

But tonight, he had already stood there for a long while, gotten onto the bed—yet the Pu woman beside him still made no move.

Her breathing was steady, but he knew she was not fully asleep.

If she were, her breathing would be lighter and longer.

In the past, when he came over, she would open her eyes, sit up, and welcome him onto the bed.

The two of them would wordlessly proceed with what was to be done.

But today, she remained unmoving for a long time.

Could it be that she had forgotten?

On second thought, that seemed unlikely.

Perhaps she was simply tired.

For Ming Shu’s wedding banquet, Pu had spared no effort.

It had been handled very well.

Yan Chiyun considered it, just about to speak and say that she had worked hard these past few days and that they should rest tonight instead—

When the young lady at his side suddenly moved.

She leaned toward him.