Chapter Nine-- Xu Rouluan's plot

The morning sun filtered through gauzy curtains, casting a golden hue across the grand dining hall of the Lin estate. Jiaxuan had awoken early, her body still aching, her spirit bruised but not broken. She had dressed simply, tying her hair into a neat ponytail, and walked into the kitchen to finish preparing breakfast.

She had made lotus root soup with pork ribs, steamed buns with chive filling, and porridge just the way Shenzhi used to like it—before the silence, before the betrayal.

As she arranged the dishes on the table, she heard soft footsteps behind her. Xu Rouluan, in a pastel blouse and an overly sweet smile, entered the room.

"Oh, Jiaxuan," Rouluan cooed, her voice dripping with false innocence, "You've done so much. You shouldn't have worked so hard, especially when you've… had such a long night."

Jiaxuan turned slowly. Rouluan was smiling too sweetly, but her eyes gleamed with malice.

"I cooked for my husband," Jiaxuan replied coolly.

"Oh, of course. So thoughtful of you," Rouluan stepped closer, brushing invisible dust from the table. "It must be tiring though, coming home after... staying over at a man's house. I would be exhausted."

Jiaxuan froze.

Before she could respond, Rouluan turned toward the staircase and called out brightly, "Shenzhi! Breakfast is ready!"

Moments later, footsteps descended.

Shenzhi appeared, dressed in a crisp shirt, his gaze unreadable. His eyes briefly flicked between the women and the breakfast spread, but his expression hardened when it landed on Jiaxuan.

"Where were you last night?" His voice was sharp, cold.

Jiaxuan opened her mouth to explain, "I—"

CRASH!

The tray of dishes in her hands slipped, the porcelain shattering against the marble floor. Hot soup splashed across her wrist and onto the hem of her dress. She gasped, clutching her arm in pain.

"You're unbelievable!" Shenzhi's voice rang out, louder now, eyes burning. "You have the nerve to cook breakfast after sneaking off to spend the night at another man's house? You really would do anything to get into someone's bed, wouldn't you?"

Jiaxuan looked up, hurt etching deep into her features. "I've only ever loved you. No one else."

"Oh?" Rouluan interjected gently, stepping closer as if in support, placing a hand on Jiaxuan's arm with mock concern. "Then why did you go to that man's house? You should've come home. You know how this looks."

"I didn't do anything wrong," Jiaxuan said, her voice trembling.

"Please," Rouluan sighed with practiced sadness. "I tried to cover for you. I didn't want you to get into trouble, but how can I keep pretending when it's hurting the family?"

Suddenly, the door flung open.

Jiaxuan's in-laws stormed in—Shenzhi's mother, father, and elder aunt. Their expressions were stormy, and the air shifted into something oppressive.

Before Jiaxuan could even kneel in greeting, a hand cracked across her cheek.

SLAP.

The sting blinded her momentarily, her knees buckling as she stumbled back.

"You shameless girl!" Shenzhi's mother shouted. "You disgrace this house and still have the audacity to show your face?"

Jiaxuan clutched her face, breath knocked from her chest. Her gaze moved to Shenzhi. He stood there—still. Silent.

Not a single word. Not a single defense.

Her lips trembled. "I didn't betray anyone. I was with my brother. My sick mother—"

"Enough!" his aunt spat. "Stop making excuses. You think we're fools?"

Rouluan gently pulled Shenzhi's arm, whispering just loud enough, "Maybe she's confused. Trauma can do that."

Jiaxuan looked at the man she had loved, searched for even the smallest flicker of trust in his eyes.

She found none.

Only judgment.

Only silence.

Her soul screamed for someone anyone to believe her.

And yet, surrounded by false kindness and louder lies, her truth was crushed under the weight of shattered porcelain and the echo of the slap that still burned across her skin.

Jiaxuan's knees hit the cold marble floor with a dull thud, the pain barely registering past the sting on her cheek and the heat of shame rising within her. Her palms pressed against the shattered remains of her hard work, fragments of porcelain and spilled soup soaking through her sleeves.

Her voice trembled as she looked up at her in-laws, then at Shenzhi.

"I wasn't with another man," she said softly but clearly. "I went to see my mother. She's in the last stage of cancer… I just wanted to be with her."

A pause.

"I cooked for her. Cleaned her house. I stayed the night because she was weak and I hadn't seen her in years since our marriage. That's all."

Her mother-in-law scoffed, arms crossed over her chest. "What kind of daughter-in-law sneaks away to visit her family without informing her husband?"

"I did call," Jiaxuan said quickly. "He didn't pick up. I—"

"Then you should've waited until he did!" the aunt snapped. "Do you know how it looks? You left your marital home to run off in another man's car! A young woman, alone! People saw you!"

"It was Zeyu" Jiaxuan insisted, her voice growing more desperate. "He offered a ride. I didn't have any intentions—"

"Intentions?" Her mother-in-law laughed coldly. "Look at you now, groveling in the kitchen like a beggar, soup on the floor, excuses in your mouth. Do you think you're the first woman to lie to protect her shame?"

"I'm not lying," Jiaxuan whispered, her eyes wet.

Still, not a word from Shenzhi.

He stood at the edge of the room, his expression unreadable. His hands were clenched, but his silence cut deeper than any slap.

Rouluan knelt beside her, fake tears shimmering. "Please… stop hurting yourself over this, Jiaxuan. Just admit you made a mistake. We can all move forward."

Jiaxuan turned to her, stunned by the boldness of her performance. "I didn't do anything wrong," she said, voice now hoarse with pain. "You know I didn't."

Rouluan looked away, face the picture of heartbreak.

Shenzhi finally spoke, his voice low. "You didn't sleep at home. You didn't tell anyone where you were going. And now… you expect us to believe it was just your mother?"

Jiaxuan's lips parted, the lump in her throat nearly choking her.

"I expected you to trust me."

He looked away.

And with that, she knew: her words meant nothing here.

Not in this house.

Not to him.

She stayed on her knees, hands trembling, heart shattering in the very place she once called home.

Just as the silence thickened like a noose around Jiaxuan's neck, the tapping of a cane echoed from the hallway.

Everyone turned as Old Madam Huo entered the room, her silver hair pinned neatly, sharp eyes sweeping over the scene. She wore an elegant dark robe, her presence alone commanding respect. A younger maid trailed behind her nervously.

"What's this mess?" the old woman asked coolly, eyeing the shattered bowls, the spilled soup, the broken daughter-in-law on her knees. "Who caused this?"

"Mother…" Shenzhi's mother stepped forward nervously. "We didn't know you were awake—"

"I asked a question," the matriarch cut in coldly.

No one dared speak.

Rouluan, ever the actress, rushed over, dabbing her fake tears with a handkerchief. "Grandmother… Jiaxuan went missing last night. We were all so worried. Then she came back, and she's saying she was with her mother but left in a strange man's car. She's upset, and now all this—"

The old woman raised a hand, silencing her.

Her sharp eyes settled on Jiaxuan, still on her knees, hair falling over her shoulders, fingers cut and trembling from the shards of porcelain.

"Jiaxuan," she said gently. "Raise your head, child."

Jiaxuan slowly lifted her gaze, ashamed to meet the only pair of eyes in the room that looked at her without judgment.

"I heard everything from the maid this morning," the old woman said, eyes narrowing at the others. "Your'e being wronged, and no one in this house thought it was important? She spent the night with her ill mother and even came back early to prepare food for you ungrateful brutes."

She looked down at Jiaxuan and held out her hand. "Come. You don't belong on the floor."

Jiaxuan's throat clenched, tears finally spilling. She reached up and let the old woman help her to her feet.

"Mother—she shouldn't have—" Shenzhi's mother started.

"She shouldn't have what? Been a daughter before a wife?" Grandmother hissed. "You all want loyalty from a woman you've never defended. Did you even ask why she left?"

Shenzhi's jaw tightened. "She was seen in another man's car."

The old woman shot him a withering glare. "And did you ask her who that man was? No. You stood there, like a fool, letting your mistress weep crocodile tears while your wife knelt in her own blood and soup!"

Rouluan paled, stepping back as if scolded herself.

"You're the head of this house, Shenzhi, but even dogs show loyalty. If you're so blinded by appearances, then perhaps you don't deserve the woman standing in front of you."

Shenzhi's lips parted, but he said nothing. He couldn't.

Old Madam Huo turned to Jiaxuan again. "Go clean up. Then come to the secret garden. We'll eat together."

Jiaxuan's lips trembled. "Thank you, Grandmother…"

The old woman nodded once. "I'll have a few words with the others while you do."

And as Jiaxuan left, tears quietly streaming down her face, for the first time in what felt like forever—she didn't feel alone.

Once Jiaxuan had disappeared up the stairs, Old Madam Huo turned back to the rest of the room, her expression fierce with contempt. She planted her cane firmly against the marble floor, the sharp tap silencing anyone who dared open their mouth.

"You shame this family," she said coldly, scanning each face one by one. "Each and every one of you."

"Mother, we—" Shenzhi's mother began nervously.

She slammed her cane down again. "Be silent! You didn't even ask where she was—just jumped to filth and disgrace. You think my ears are closed just because I stay in my room?"

Her eyes pinned Shenzhi, unflinching. "She called me. Not you, not your mother. Me. In tears, because you wouldn't answer her calls. She said she'd asked Zeyu to drop her off at her mother's house—because unlike you, he cared enough to listen!"

A gasp slipped from one of the aunts standing nearby. Rouluan's hands clenched around her handkerchief.

"She told me her mother has late-stage cancer," the old woman continued, voice rising. "And yet, not a soul in this room thought to wait and hear her out. Instead, she returned home, cooked for this family, and was met with accusations and cruelty."

Her gaze turned fiery, resting on Rouluan next. "And you… Don't think I don't see through that sweet little act. You come out of her husband's room in your pajamas and still expect me to believe you're the victim?"

Rouluan's lips trembled, but she didn't dare speak.

"You'll all regret this day," Grandma Huo said bitterly. "Jiaxuan is worth ten of every single one of you combined. Mark my words: if she ever leaves this family, it won't be her loss—it will be ours."

Her final words echoed through the room like a curse. Then she turned and walked out with dignity, leaving behind stunned silence and a storm brewing in Shenzhi's gut that he could no longer ignore.

The silence after Grandma Huo's exit was suffocating. No one dared to speak at first—until Shenzhi's mother, lips pressed tight in embarrassment, turned to Xu Rouluan, her voice laced with suspicion.

"Rouluan," she said, her tone carefully measured, "you told us Jiaxuan left with a man. You were the one who said you saw her enter his car—why would you say that if it wasn't true?"

Rouluan blinked rapidly, the tears that had been her shield moments ago now betraying her. "I—I didn't lie," she said quickly, her voice trembling. "I just didn't see his face clearly. I only saw the car… and I assumed…"

"You assumed?" Shenzhi's uncle echoed incredulously. "You ruined that girl's reputation and caused a scene in front of the elders because you assumed?"

More murmurs spread through the room.

"I—I didn't mean harm," Rouluan insisted, eyes wide, wringing her hands. "I was only looking out for Shenzhi. If it really was Zeyu, how was I to know? They looked… too familiar. I didn't think she'd be calling Old Madam either."

"Enough," Shenzhi's aunt snapped, shaking her head. "You were so quick to accuse her, but now you say you weren't sure? That poor girl knelt and explained herself while you stood there acting like the victim!"

Rouluan's lips quivered. "I only did what I thought was right…"

But Shenzhi wasn't listening anymore. His eyes were fixed toward the staircase, haunted by his grandmother's words. Guilt gnawed at him, yet he couldn't erase the deep-rooted pain Jiaxuan had once caused. Still, a sliver of doubt had begun to creep into his chest—doubt not about Jiaxuan's intentions, but about his own judgment.

And this time, the shame wasn't hers. It was his.

Jiaxuan sniffled softly, wiping her eyes as she stood beside Grandma Huo. The older woman looked at her with a heart full of concern, ready to march back inside and tear the family apart again if she had to. But Jiaxuan, ever so gentle, stopped her with a quiet voice.

"Grandma…" she began.

"Hm?" Grandma Huo tilted her head, her grip still firm on Jiaxuan's wrist.

"I'm okay," she whispered, voice steadier this time. "Really… this is nothing."

"Nothing?" the old woman narrowed her eyes, "You were humiliated, falsely accused, and struck by the same people who should have protected you. And you call that nothing?"

Jiaxuan looked away, her gaze falling on the stone path below. Her fingers clenched slightly around the edge of her sleeve. "Because… maybe I deserved it."

Grandma Huo's expression darkened.

Jiaxuan forced a smile tender, fragile, and utterly heartbreaking. "This pain… it's still not as much as what he must've felt. When I… broke his heart."

"You—?"

"I betrayed him once," Jiaxuan murmured, voice hollow. "I left him for another man. In the past… I was so blind, so foolish. I didn't choose him. I thought love meant something else. He loved me, and I… I crushed it. I told him not to look for me in the next life."

Her lips trembled, but she didn't cry this time.

"I asked for this punishment, Grandma," she continued. "I don't blame him for not forgiving me. I just wish… I just wish I could fix it. Even if he never loves me again."

Grandma Huo was silent, stunned by the depth of sorrow behind her granddaughter-in-law's words. She studied Jiaxuan for a long moment, her chest tightening at the weight this young woman carried.

"I don't know what happened in that past life you keep hinting at," she finally said, her voice softer, "but if that boy loved you once, he can love you again. Hearts may break, but they remember."

Jiaxuan looked up at her, lips parting slightly.

"But you must remember something too," Grandma Huo added, firmer now. "Repentance is one thing. But letting people walk all over you because of guilt? That's not atonement,it's self-destruction. You don't owe this family pain. You owe yourself healing."

Jiaxuan's eyes welled up again, this time not with guilt—but with the kind of warmth she hadn't felt in a long time. Understanding. A sliver of hope.

"Come back inside," Grandma Huo said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Let them see you for what you truly are a woman who still has the courage to love after being broken."

Jiaxuan nodded slowly, tears glistening like dew on her lashes.

After her quiet moment with Grandma Huo, Jiaxuan wiped her tears, straightened her clothes, and walked back toward the dining room. The sting on her cheek was still fresh, the soup stain cooling on her skin, but her expression was serene. Her heart had always been fragile—but not weak.

The room fell quiet when she entered. All eyes turned to her. Shenzhi's mother lowered her gaze in shame, and the others shifted uncomfortably.

Jiaxuan didn't flinch. She approached the table, picking up the bowls that hadn't shattered, salvaging what food she could. And then, as if none of the cruelty had ever touched her, she looked up at Shenzhi with the softest smile.

"Come eat," she said gently, as if speaking to an old friend, not the man who had stood by while others tore her down.

Shenzhi stared at her. Her tone was calm, but her eyes… he saw it then. The pain she refused to show. The way she bled without crying. Something in his chest stirred, something he couldn't name.

Even his family began to shift. His father cleared his throat. "Jiaxuan… about earlier…"

"We misunderstood," his mother added quickly, unable to meet her gaze. "I… acted too rashly."

The others murmured similar apologies, awkward and uneasy, unsure of how to deal with a woman who refused to play victim.

But Jiaxuan only nodded once. "Thank you for your concern," she said politely, turning back to the food. "Breakfast will get cold."

She began to serve them herself, one dish after another, as though nothing had happened—her back straight, her hands steady.

Shenzhi didn't move. He couldn't. He could still hear her voice from the night before, could still see her eyes glistening in the hallway when he called her a cheat. He remembered how Rouluan's tears had swayed him. And now…

Why did her quiet smile hurt more than any accusation?

The heavy doors opened with a low creak, and Zeyu stepped in, balancing two bags of fresh groceries in his arms. His usual warm expression turned slightly confused when he noticed the dining table already set.

"Xuan… I thought you said you hadn't cooked yet," he said with a smile, walking in. "Did you get started early? Was the grocery list enough?"

But his words trailed off when he noticed the maids on the floor scrubbing at a spilled mess—soup and shards of porcelain, still steaming faintly. He looked up, only to see Shenzhi's entire family seated awkwardly around the table, eyes downcast or shifting uncomfortably.

And then he saw her.

Jiaxuan stood at the far end of the table, ladling soup into a bowl as if nothing was wrong. But Zeyu saw what others might ignore—the faint red swelling on her cheek, the tightness in her lips, the way her fingers trembled just slightly.

"Xuan," he said, setting the groceries down slowly. "What happened to your face?"

The spoon in her hand paused. For a moment, no one answered.

Zeyu turned his sharp gaze toward Shenzhi, then to each member of the family. "Why are you all here? Was there a family meeting I missed—or was this an ambush?"

"Zeyu—" Jiaxuan began softly, but he raised a hand, stepping closer to her.

"No. I want to know who put their hands on her."

"Zeyu, it's not what you think," Lady Huo said quickly, her voice laced with shame. "There was a… misunderstanding."

"A misunderstanding that left a mark on her face?" he snapped, eyes hardening. "You all sat here and ate her food while she stood there bruised and silent?"

His voice rang across the marble halls.

"I brought her back this morning because she didn't have the strength to drive after seeing her mother. She cried the entire way. And this,this is how she's welcomed back into this house?"

Shenzhi stood slowly, brows furrowed. "You speak like a man still in love with her, Zeyu."

There it was.

The weight of jealousy. Suspicion. Wounded pride.

Zeyu let out a humorless chuckle. "And you speak like a man who never deserved her."

The room fell deathly quiet. Jiaxuan lowered her gaze, her chest tightening with emotion she couldn't name.

The room crackled with a heavy silence after Zeyu's biting words.

Shenzhi stepped forward, voice low but taut with restrained anger. "You're crossing a line, Zeyu."

"No," Zeyu snapped, eyes blazing. "You crossed the line when you allowed another woman to torment your wife and stood there watching her be humiliated like a stranger."

"She's no saint," Shenzhi shot back. "She's just pretending to be innocent now because that's what she's always done. She betrayed me once and now runs to you like she's the victim."

Zeyu's jaw clenched. "She was a girl, blinded by pain and loneliness—and you were never there to see it. You were too busy judging her from a pedestal you didn't even earn."

"Enough," Shenzhi growled. "Why are you so desperate to defend her? Why do you always show up like some savior? Unless…" He narrowed his eyes. "Unless you're still in love with her."

A stunned gasp rippled across the table. Jiaxuan froze. The family looked between the two brothers, tension thick enough to choke.

Zeyu didn't answer right away. He looked at Jiaxuan, who avoided both of their gazes, then back at Shenzhi. "If loving her means I can treat her with basic dignity, then yes—I love her more than you ever did."

Shenzhi's fists curled. "You were always jealous. Is that why you keep hovering around her? Hoping I'd mess up so you could step in?"

"You don't need to mess up," Zeyu said coldly. "You already did. Again and again."

Lady Huo stood abruptly, trying to quell the fire. "Enough, both of you! This is a family matter, not a battlefield!"

Jiaxuan stepped away from the table, trembling. "Please… stop. I didn't come back here for this."

Zeyu turned to her gently. "Xuan—"

"No," she whispered. "This isn't about who loves me more. This is about who I choose to be… and right now, I choose peace."