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The winter wind cut sharp through the Shen Manor, rustling through the bare branches of the courtyard plum trees. A thin layer of frost covered the flagstones like a sheet of cold silk. Servants shuffled hurriedly across the grounds, their eyes lowered, their mouths sealed tight. Word had already spread — the young ladies of the Shen family had once again been involved in an incident.
In the main hall of the ancestral courtyard, silence pressed like a weight on the shoulders of everyone present. Only the low crackling of a brazier broke the tension.
At the center stood Shen Yulan, her thin shoulders trembling, wrapped in a snow-white robe. Her pale lips were tinged with blue, and her soft eyes shimmered with tears. Anyone who saw her like this would feel their heart soften.
Before her, Commander Shen sat grim-faced on the main seat, brows furrowed deeply. Though middle-aged, his upright posture and cold aura reminded all that he came from a military background, though in sixteen years of his service, he had merely secured primary seventh rank as the county garrison commander in the Meixi county.
[Meixi County, under Lia'an prefecture in Hangzhou city.]
His gaze was like a knife — cold, exacting, and merciless.
"Kneel properly," he barked at Shen Yuhan, who stood beside her sister.
But Shen Yuhan, who should have been shaking in fear, remained standing straight, her soaked robe clinging to her frame. Her dark eyes, half-lidded and indifferent, held no trace of panic.
She looked completely out of place.
Unlike her sister, Shen Yuhan was taller, colder, and gave off a detached air, like someone watching a theater performance she wasn't particularly invested in.
"Father," Shen Yulan whimpered, falling to her knees and clutching desperately at her sleeves, as if seeking shelter from the storm of judgment.
"Let Eldest Sister go this time. I'm sure she didn't mean it. Even though she pushed me in the cold lotus pond, even though she knows my health is frail and I cannot be exposed to cold..." Her voice broke. "I can understand Sister's hatred toward me. If it weren't for my mother and me, Sister wouldn't have lost her own mother so early. It's my sin, not hers…"
She paused to sob delicately, her body trembling with grief.
"…If sister truly wants me dead to ease her heart, then let it be so. I do not blame her."
What a scene.
Even the hard-faced steward at the door looked slightly moved.
Shen Yuhan blinked slowly.
In her previous life, she had read this exact chapter in a trashy romance novel on a rainy afternoon. Curled on her sofa with a cup of tea in hand, she'd sneered: "Deserved it. Spoiled brat got what was coming."
Now, standing in the shoes of that "spoiled brat"—with damp hair clinging to her cheeks and water squelching in her shoes—her perspective had… shifted.
This body was trembling from cold, but the mind inside it was sharp. Her calculating gaze filled with amusement.
God must have a wicked sense of humor, she thought dryly.
She lowered her gaze and smiled, her voice carrying a lazy drawl.
"How touching. A sister who pushes me into a frozen pond, then jumps in herself to turn me into the villain. If I hadn't felt the bruise on my spine from your push, I might've believed it was all just my imagination."
The hall grew cold.
Commander Shen's expression turned thunderous. "Audacious! You still dare—"
But Shen Yuhan calmly interrupted. "Father, why don't we call in the servants who witnessed the scene? Or do you believe only what Yulan says, even if she deliberately lie?"
That froze Commander Shen in place. Calling witnesses? That was not how these matters were typically handled. It was always the younger daughter's pleas, and always Shen Yuhan who was punished.
But this time… Shen Yuhan's eyes gleamed like tempered steel. The obedient daughter who used to stammer and cry was gone.
At the side, Shen Yulan flinched slightly, her eyes flashed with malice but she still kept her pitiful posture as she whispered, "I was trying to pull sister out… that's when I slipped…"
"Ah," Shen Yuhan drawled, finally kneeling beside her sister. "What a brave heart. So brave, in fact, that even when you knew I hate the cold more than you, you still dragged me out in the middle of a snowstorm for a stroll."
"Did I?" Shen Yulan blinked, then quickly looked away, trying to be ignorant. "Sister, if I did wrong… I apologize…"
The same line, again and again.
Shen Yuhan rolled her eyes a thousand times in her head, then tilted her head, an elegant smile tugging at her lips.
"No need to apologize," she murmured. "You were just following the script."
Shen Yuhan's words, though spoken lightly, hung heavy in the air.
"Script? What script?" All eyes turned to Shen Yuhan in confusion.
The "script" — only she knew what that meant.
In the novel, this exact scene had played out to perfection: Shen Yulan's frail figure, soaked in cold water, shedding crystalline tears for her hateful elder sister. Her nobility, her sorrow, her generous heart — all had painted Shen Yuhan as a jealous and wicked woman. And the readers, the characters in the story, even the cold-hearted father — they had believed it without question.
But now Shen Yuhan was no longer a character reading lines from someone else's script.
She was a killer reborn.
And she was going to rewrite this story.
"Isn't it odd," she continued, ignoring their confusion, tapping her fingers softly against the polished floor. She didn't even look at Shen Yulan. "If I truly hated you that much… wouldn't I have waited until no one was watching? Pushed you in quietly. Then rushed in after you with tears and panic, pretending to save you."
She tilted her head slightly, a sardonic smile tugging at her lips.
"Why would I shove you in front of everyone and then jump in myself? Am I such a fool?"
A hush fell like a dropped veil.
Even Commander Shen frowned, clearly unsettled by his daughter's calm demeanor.
She turned her head to him, eyes glinting under the hall's hanging lanterns. "Father, I don't ask you to believe me. But if the matter is unclear, I suggest we investigate it properly."