Shattered‌

The most heartless words are not curses or complaints, but "officialese"—those grand, morally righteous phrases cloaked in virtue. Every word Bao Cheng spoke was measured and proper, yet Madam Dong's heart felt like the icy rain soaking her clothes, clinging to her skin, chilling her to the bone. She stood in the downpour, water streaming down her face, trembling uncontrollably. Having taken that first step, fleeing her home, the path back now seemed impossibly distant…

Surprisingly, it was the usually aloof Sanniang who seemed to sense Madam Dong's despair. After a moment's thought, she said, "If you care not for your household registration, why not attach yourself to the Xue family? Would you agree?"

Compared to Bao Cheng's lofty moralizing, this simple offer breathed life into Madam Dong's ashen face. Sanniang had not justified her proposal with reason—in fact, it defied reason entirely. How could a married woman willingly degrade herself to servitude?

But women do not trade in morals and grand principles. Madam Dong nodded without hesitation. "I agree."

The two women settled the matter in mere words, leaving Bao Cheng gaping in disbelief. He stood silently, weighing his options. Perhaps he need not interfere… but then he recalled Madam Dong's "ill omen." What if Xue Lang discovered it later and blamed him?

Unlike others in the bureaucracy or military, whose power stemmed from intricate networks, Bao Cheng's rise hinged solely on Xue Chongxun's favor. Xue's patronage was his lifeline—a single misstep could shatter everything.

"Sanniang," Bao Cheng stammered, his face flushing crimson despite his towering stature, "there's something I must clarify… to avoid future misunderstandings."

Sanniang turned, puzzled. "What?"

Madam Dong already guessed his intent. She stared at him—this familiar stranger—her face drained of color, teeth chattering. Was it the cold… or her heart freezing over?

Clenching his fists, Bao Cheng finally blurted, "Die'er… she's considered ill-fated in our village. A 'white tiger.'" His voice dwindled to a whisper. "As Xue Lang's confidante, you should inform him. I cannot betray my benefactor through omission."

Sanniang paused, eyeing him coldly. "Very well. I'll relay this truthfully."

Crack! A roof tile, loosened by the rain, shattered on the ground.

Madam Dong's voice rasped, "Hear that? The sound of something breaking."

Bao Cheng guiltily murmured, "Don't resent me, Die'er. If Xue Lang aids you, he deserves honesty."

She shook her head, rainwater mingling with tears. "This is my fault—my delusions, my consequences…" Her fingers curled into themselves as during her earlier pretense. Stumbling backward, she tripped on a stone and fell, scraping her palm raw against the flagstones. Blood seeped into the rain.

When Bao Cheng moved to help, she screamed, "Don't touch me!" Her tone flattened to ice. "Men and women must keep their distance."

Sanniang helped her rise. "If you've agreed, let's go." With a curt bow to Bao Cheng: "We take our leave."

As the women departed, Bao Cheng called uncertainly, "I…"

Sanniang glanced back. "Keep your explanations. I handle private matters, not official ones. Xue Lang expects you at the Ministry of Revenue tomorrow—don't disappoint him."

The Xue residence's sprawling courtyards and intricate eaves dwarfed Madam Dong's village sensibilities. Though Xue Chongxun had seemed approachable in hemp robes earlier, his palatial home now rendered him godlike in her eyes.

Guided through spotless corridors, she left watery footprints on polished floors. Behind a screen in a silk-draped chamber, Xue's voice rumbled, "Why drenched? Change first—we'll talk after."

Sanniang led her away. When Madam Dong anxiously asked how to find her later, a maid smiled, "You'll learn the household soon enough."

Returning to Xue's quarters, Sanniang found him pacing, musing aloud: "One can't act forever—the mask always slips."

He suddenly asked, "That drenched woman—Bao Cheng's wife?"

"A runaway from his village," Sanniang corrected.

Xue chuckled. "Her scar's gone. The trembling hands—all an act?"

"As you said: masks slip."

When Sanniang voiced doubts about Bao Cheng's reliability for the canal troops, Xue shrugged. "He's capable and dependent on me. That suffices." His tone hardened. "Remember—even you might oppose me someday."

Pain flickered across Sanniang's face. After a long silence, she asked quietly, "Would you discard someone deemed ill-omened?"

"Fate?" Xue slammed a fist. "I forge my own destiny!"

"Truly?"

"Truly."

Her rare smile surfaced. "I believe you—no oath needed."

Xue laughed, recalling an official who swore "by parentage" constantly. "That Yang fellow! Lies require too many oaths."

As night deepened, Sanniang's voice cooled. "The Dong girl—a 'wild game' better than courtesans? Since you spurn superstition, shall I send her to your chambers?"

Xue's thoughts drifted to the delicate village beauty. Against the cold rain outside, warmth beckoned...

(Note: Historical details like spousal terms and bureaucratic systems are rendered contextually without overt annotation to preserve narrative flow.)