Chapter Fifty-Eight: Is Eldest Sister Trying to Ruin Aunt Shui's Reputation?

“Um…” The Abbess Jingxin’s expression turned troubled.

“Is it not possible?” Qin Wanru widened her clear black-and-white eyes, asking earnestly.

“It’s not that it’s impossible, but when my junior first took a liking to you, you were unwilling to learn. The old madam of your family also told my junior that you wouldn’t be willing, and after trying a few times, my junior gave up and told me that she never wanted to take on another disciple in this life.” The abbess spoke tactfully.

This meant that Master Mingqiu had been hurt by her refusal and no longer wished to take her as a disciple, or anyone else for that matter. At this, Qin Wanru felt a deep sense of guilt; in her past life, she had failed to recognize a true gem and had even caused Master Mingqiu sorrow.

“Abbess, when Master Mingqiu returns, I will definitely ask for her forgiveness,” Qin Wanru declared with conviction, her gaze sincere. Though she was still so young, there was something about her that inspired trust—it was not the careless promise of a child.

The abbess could not help but smile. “My junior has always been lonely and unable to grow close to others, but you were the only one she took an instant liking to. This, too, is a matter of fate.”

Her words were subtle, but Qin Wanru understood immediately, lowering her head. Fate plays a crucial role in human relationships; Master Mingqiu’s instant fondness for Qin Wanru was fate, but if not cherished, such fate could easily slip away.

“Second Miss, Second Miss, the Eldest Miss is looking for you!” On her way back from the abbess’s meditation chamber, Qin Wanru was stopped by Meixue.

“What does my elder sister want with me?” Qin Wanru halted.

“Second Miss, come with me and you’ll find out,” Meixue said with a smile, pointing to the right. “She’s waiting for you in a pavilion just ahead.”

So she had been waiting here for her for some time.

Qin Wanru’s eyes flickered, and her lips curved into a slight smile. She found it strange—she and Qin Yuru had already torn away any pretense of civility, maintaining only a facade for the sake of appearances. Such a warm invitation was unprecedented, even in the past.

“Let’s go,” Qin Wanru replied without protest, turning to follow the direction indicated by Meixue. She was curious to see what Qin Yuru, after days of silence, was plotting this time.

Qin Yuru sat alone in the pavilion, which was nestled beside a small artificial hill, creating a tranquil atmosphere. Though this was not the general’s estate, and the occasional idle worshiper would pass by—mainly women, though a few men as well. Jingxin Nunnery did not allow men to stay overnight, but did not forbid them from entering during the day.

The wounds on Qin Wanru’s face had healed, and she no longer wore a veil. Her complexion had improved, and the former blemishes had faded to near invisibility, leaving her looking as delicate and gentle as ever.

Seeing Qin Wanru approach, Qin Yuru’s brows lifted in a joyful smile as she rose. “Second Sister, over here!”

Qin Wanru had already spotted her. Her large, dark eyes blinked twice, and she walked toward the pavilion with a smile.

“Please, sit, Second Sister. I’ve been waiting a while for you,” Qin Yuru said graciously, pouring her a cup of tea herself as Qin Wanru sat down.

The teapot sat on the stone table, the tea poured steaming and fragrant, a delicate scent rising from the petals of chrysanthemum—Qin Yuru’s favorite addition to tea.

“Please, Second Sister,” Qin Yuru invited with a smile, lifting her own cup and taking a sip.

Qin Wanru shifted her gaze from the teacup to Qin Yuru’s face, lips curled in a faint smile. “What’s so urgent that you had to find me, Eldest Sister?”

“It’s not so urgent, but there’s something I wanted to discuss with you,” Qin Yuru replied, still smiling as she set her teacup down.

“What is it?” Qin Wanru’s eyes flashed.

“It’s nothing major, but now that Grandmother only has us two as her closest kin, even though you’re still young, I have to discuss this with you.” Qin Yuru sighed, her expression difficult to read. She waved a hand, and Meixue retreated outside the pavilion. Then her gaze fell on Qingyue, who had accompanied Qin Wanru, as if she wanted a private word.

Qin Wanru glanced at Qingyue, who understood and withdrew to the edge of the pavilion, not too far away.

“Go ahead, Eldest Sister. Qingyue is my person; she won’t repeat what she hears.” Qin Wanru’s tone was calm and indifferent.

“It’s best if no one else knows about this,” Qin Yuru said, biting her lip, her gentle eyes tinged with unease.

“If you don’t want anyone to know, perhaps it’s better not to say it at all. I’m still young, and if I accidentally let it slip, it could be troublesome,” Qin Wanru replied offhandedly, a glint of sharpness in her eyes and a slight curl to her lips, as if uninterested in Qin Yuru’s feigned reluctance.

Qin Yuru seethed inwardly—such a young girl, yet so unyielding. She resolved that after dealing with Shui Ruolan, she would deal with this troublesome girl as well, tackling them one by one for better results. Still, mindful of the delicate situation, she forced herself to smile.

“Second Sister, don’t say that. I have no one else to discuss this with. You may be young, but you’re clever. I’m sure talking this over with you will be effective.” Qin Yuru suppressed her resentment and kept up her pleasant demeanor. Her mother had repeatedly warned her not to fall out with Qin Wanru at this time.

“Then please continue, Eldest Sister,” Qin Wanru said sweetly. She was small and exquisitely featured, with bright eyes and a gentle manner that drew attention. The nunnery was bustling, and even this secluded spot had its share of passersby. Some recognized the two young ladies of the General’s Mansion.

Right now, the Eldest Miss Qin was the subject of much gossip. Curious onlookers wondered: Was it not said that she had schemed against the Second Miss to climb the social ladder? Why did the sisters seem so close? Was there more to the story?

Qin Wanru’s gaze swept over the faces of the passersby, instantly reading their thoughts. Her lips curled slightly as she waited for Qin Yuru to continue.

Qin Yuru’s reputation in Jiangzhou was ruined, and no matter how she tried to explain, it was useless. Even if idle worshipers saw the sisters together, few would believe in their harmony; it mattered little in the grand scheme.

So what was Qin Yuru after? Qin Wanru’s gaze flickered to the artificial hill opposite.

“Second Sister, do you know about Aunt Shui and Father?” Qin Yuru finally leaned in, lowering her voice after some hesitation.

“Wasn’t what happened between Aunt Shui and Father orchestrated by Mother?” Qin Wanru looked up, feigning confusion. “I overheard Grandmother and Father talking about it. Eldest Sister, why would Mother do that? Does she dislike Aunt Shui?”

Seeing Qin Wanru’s innocent and bewildered expression, Qin Yuru’s face paled. This was not how it was supposed to go—how could Qin Wanru immediately accuse their mother?

“Second Sister, how can you speak of Mother like that?” Qin Yuru’s expression darkened, inwardly furious. She had meant to broach the subject obliquely before slandering Shui Ruolan.

“But… those were Father’s exact words!” Qin Wanru watched Qin Yuru’s anger, blinking her watery eyes in feigned innocence.

Qin Yuru could barely sit still, glaring fiercely at Qin Wanru. This wretched girl was still so uncooperative—once Shui Ruolan was dealt with, she would be next.

“Father only said that to spare Grandmother’s feelings. Grandmother has always liked Aunt Shui; if she knew Aunt Shui was behind this, she’d be heartbroken, and she’s so old and recovering from illness,” Qin Yuru sighed, picking up her teacup to mask her expression.

She feared Qin Wanru would see the contempt and fury in her eyes.

An outsider, not even the General’s own child—what right did she have to the love of grandmother and father? If not for Mother, she’d probably be a beggar wandering the streets, let alone dare to compete with her.

“But that day really was Mother’s doing. She sent Aunt Shui’s maid away, then had someone lead Father to Aunt Shui’s rooms, ruining her reputation. Is Mother still scheming against Aunt Shui?” Qin Wanru’s childlike face tightened in indignation as she spoke up for Shui Ruolan.

“You… you’re talking nonsense!” Qin Yuru’s forced smile finally collapsed, and her cup hit the table with a crisp clatter.

“I’m not lying… Father’s already investigated. If you don’t believe me, Eldest Sister, you can send someone to ask him,” a faint trace of mocking flashed through Qin Wanru’s eyes, though her face betrayed nothing.

She now fully understood Qin Yuru’s intentions.

“You… you’re impossible. This has nothing to do with Mother—it wasn’t her scheme. Think about it: who stands to gain the most from this?” Qin Yuru retorted angrily.

“Isn’t it Mother? I heard she wants Father to take Aunt Shui as a concubine. Aunt Shui is such a good woman—why should she be a concubine?” Qin Wanru pressed on stubbornly, still feigning ignorance. As a child, there were things Qin Yuru couldn’t say, but she herself could. “If you don’t believe me, let’s send for Father to ask him!”

If Di Shi was scheming again, then she would clear Shui Ruolan’s name.

“You… Wanru, you’ve changed. You’ve really been brainwashed by Aunt Shui, to say such things about Mother and Father,” Qin Yuru’s anger suddenly faded, replaced by a look of misery. She rose as if to grab Qin Wanru, but hesitated, lowering her voice.

Her gentle, pitiful act made a flicker of disgust pass through Qin Wanru’s eyes. Qin Yuru had always liked playing this role in front of Qi Tianyu—weak and frail on the outside, venomous as her mother on the inside.

“If you won’t ask Father directly and keep making these ambiguous claims, could it be that Mother’s said something, and you’re trying to tarnish Aunt Shui’s reputation here at Jingxin Nunnery?” Qin Wanru stood up, unceremoniously tearing away the thin veil between them.