First Phoenix Lady - Chapter 24

Among the group, except for Shopkeeper Yang, the others all expressed their willingness to sign indenture contracts and serve Miss Anxia from then on.

The Broker from the yamen then processed the indenture contracts for these people as well.

After everyone had left, Shi Anxia ordered someone to bring out the account books managed by Shopkeeper Yang, then summoned Dong Li and instructed, “Keep an eye on him. See whom he goes to and what he does.”

Dong Li accepted the order and left.

By the time Shi Anxia finished dinner, night had fallen completely.

She gazed at the dark, silent night, where lanterns glowed warmly under the eaves, casting a gentle yellow light.

For some reason, she suddenly missed her mother. There were some things she hadn’t had time to ask in her previous life. In this life, she must get clear answers.

Shi Anxia stepped through the snow toward Begonia Courtyard. Just as she reached the entrance, she saw Concubine Han coughing as she tiptoed, peering into the courtyard.

The maid beside Concubine Han, Xing’er, hurriedly knelt down. “Greetings, Miss Anxia.”

Concubine Han turned her head and saw Shi Anxia, startled and flustered, quickly lowering her head. “Greetings, Miss. I will leave at once.”

Shi Anxia asked, “Is Concubine worried about Shu?”

Concubine Han grew even more nervous and shook her head in denial. “No, no, I was just thinking that Shu has just arrived in a strange place. He might… he might misbehave and upset Madam.”

Shi Anxia sized up the woman before her. She was younger than her mother, delicate and frail, as if a gust of wind could topple her.

Her complexion was unnaturally pale, and there was a persistent sorrow between her brows, making anyone who saw her feel she had lived a hard and bitter life.

If she remembered correctly, Concubine Han would die of illness two years later. Shu was still very young, and in the end, Concubine Wen took him in and he died under her care as well.

Shi Anxia smiled gently, her warmth especially comforting in the snowy night. “There’s no need to be nervous, Concubine. If you want to see Shu in the future, just come. Come, follow me inside.”

“No, that’s not necessary.” Concubine Han hurriedly took a Rattle Drum from her sleeve, trembling as she handed it over, pleading, “Please, Miss, give this to Shu. If you shake it, he won’t cry.”

Shi Anxia did not take the Rattle Drum, but instead gently pulled Concubine Han into the courtyard. “I told you to come, so come. Go and comfort Shu. Meanwhile, I can have a private talk with my mother.”

“Alright, alright then.” Concubine Han blushed, feeling that Miss Anxia was truly kind. Clearly, she was being allowed to see her child, yet Miss Anxia made it sound as if she was being asked for help. “Thank you, Miss.”

She bowed deeply to Shi Anxia’s departing figure, watching until she disappeared before turning to enter the West Wing Room.

On the other side, Tang Chujun was in the East Wing Room, watching over her sleeping son.

A son of this age was already considered a grown man; she shouldn’t have been staying by his side so closely.

But those sixteen missing years were a pain in her heart.

She looked at the dense scars on her son’s body, her heart twisting in agony, the pain making it hard to breathe.

She had originally wanted to tell the truth-that he was her biological son.

But Shi Yunqi had developed a high fever. After Doctor Shen came to see him and prescribed medicine, he finally calmed down and fell into a deep sleep.

Yet his sleep was restless, like a frightened little dog curled up on the bed, arms crossed over his shoulders, clearly used to this posture to avoid beatings.

Tang Chujun’s heart ached terribly, tears streaming down uncontrollably. It was a hundred times more painful than when she had learned of Shi Yunxing’s death.

Nanny Zhong entered quietly and whispered in her ear, “Madam, the young lady is here.”

Only then did Tang Chujun wipe away her tears and return to her own main room.

When she entered, she saw her daughter standing alone by the window, lost in thought as she gazed outside.

“Xia’er.” Tang Chujun wanted to say, it’s so late, why aren’t you asleep yet? But the words caught in her throat and she swallowed them for some reason.

Perhaps it was the sixteen years she owed her son; perhaps it was seeing her daughter’s slender, lonely figure and suddenly remembering she also owed this daughter a full ten years.

Her eyes blurred with tears for no reason.
When Shi Anxia heard the sound, she turned around and saw her mother, Tang Chujun, already in tears.

In that instant, Shi Anxia’s nose tingled with emotion as well.

Having lived two lifetimes, only now did she have the chance to carefully observe her mother.

It was a face of breathtaking beauty, with sorrow faintly lingering between her brows, and a trace of distance and sadness at the corners of her lips.

For the first time, Shi Anxia managed to ask the question that had always weighed on her heart, “Mother, do you not like Xia’er?”

Tang Chujun was stunned for a moment before she reacted, stepping forward to embrace her daughter tightly. “Xia’er! How could Mother not like Xia’er?”

“Then why…” Shi Anxia couldn’t help but choke up, “Why is Mother always so polite and distant with Xia’er?”

Once, as the Empress Dowager, her greatest regret was having an unpromising father, and even more, a mother who passed away early and was always cold toward her.

When she was just over two years old, she got lost in the Capital and was taken by human traffickers, wandering from place to place, to be sold for a good price. She had long since learned to read people’s expressions, able to discern their intentions from the slightest gestures and looks.

It wasn’t until she was twelve and found by her uncle, Shi Chengyi, that she learned she was actually the legitimate daughter of such a prestigious family.

She was anxious and uneasy, desperately hoping to be accepted by her relatives. So she studied hard, wanting to be of help to the family.

At first, the people of the Second Branch of Marquis Mansion didn’t think much of her, and even the servants treated her according to her status.

Only Shi Yunqi and Concubine Han never made things difficult for her.

Tang Chujun wasn’t unkind to her, just too polite.

So she wanted to ask clearly, “Is it because Mother doesn’t like Father, so she doesn’t like Xia’er either?”

Tang Chujun shook her head, tears streaming down, “Xia’er, I’m sorry. It was Mother who lost you, and I feel so guilty in my heart. How could Mother not like Xia’er?”

Ten years of separation had passed, and she had missed her daughter’s growth. In the years when her daughter needed her most, she was not by her side.

How did she lose her daughter that day? It was because of her own negligence.

When she heard that Shi Chengyi was discussing a marriage and had set a date to exchange betrothal letters, Tang Chujun cried for a long time in the carriage.

When she returned to the Marquis Mansion in a daze, she discovered her daughter was missing. In that moment, her world collapsed.

For the first time, she lost her temper in the Marquis Mansion, ruthlessly selling off the negligent wet nurse, and from then on, frantically searched for her daughter.

The Marquis Mansion was searching, and so was the Duke’s Mansion. When they were almost in despair, Shi Chengyi actually brought Shi Anxia back.

When Tang Chujun saw Shi Anxia again, she was so overwhelmed with emotion she nearly fainted. But there was no imagined embrace, no earth-shattering reunion with tears.

The thin, small girl before her performed a very unpolished bow, “Greetings, Mother.”

Tang Chujun forcibly suppressed all her emotions, helped her up with her own hands, and softly said, “It’s good to have you home.”

She had always been a timid person, indecisive in her own marriage, and negligent in matters concerning her children.

Now, faced with her daughter’s sudden question, the emotions Tang Chujun had suppressed for years surged uncontrollably. “Xia’er, it was Mother who lost you! In all the days and nights you were missing, there wasn’t a moment when Mother didn’t think of you.”

Suddenly, Shi Anxia understood-it wasn’t that her mother didn’t love her, but that she didn’t know how to love her. She expressed her affection timidly, which made her seem cold and distant.

She had never had the chance to ask before.

But her mother had grieved so deeply for Shi Yunxing’s death, which showed she did not resent Shi Anxia because of her father.

In this lifetime, she finally got her answer.

Shi Anxia felt a weight lift from her heart, her eyes filling with tears, but in the end, she forced back the sour ache and did not let them fall.

She gently nestled into her mother’s arms, her gaze firm as she looked ahead, murmuring, “Mother, let’s live this life well together with Brother!”

Tang Chujun’s tears would not stop. She held her daughter in her arms as if cradling the most precious treasure in the world. “Mother will never lose you and Qi’er again!”