How Did the Female Lead in the Angst Novel Become My Ex-Wife’s Sister? - Chapter 19

Pei Linlang spun a long, elaborate tale about how difficult things were at home—how her mother, desperate to protect her, had raised her as a boy, and how she had simply grown used to it over the years. That part, at least, was true.

Then came the fabrication: as a woman who had never been allowed to wear feminine clothing, she had developed an insatiable obsession with beautiful things. The moment she saw something pretty, she just had to have it.

In the end, the situation was resolved, though not without Linlang receiving ten strokes of the board.

It wasn’t even about the beads. Just as the crowd was reeling in shock from her revelation, the Female General stepped forward. “May I have a word?” Liang Qianqiu asked.

“These beads are hardly a rare treasure, and I don’t actually wear them that often; it was merely a coincidence today. If Miss Pei likes them so much, she is welcome to keep them.”

The maid, Biyun, was clearly livid, but since her mistress had spoken, she had no choice but to shut her mouth. And so, the “token of affection” from Shen Zhao to her soulmate ended up in Linlang’s hands, though the look Shen Zhao gave her was sharp enough to draw blood.

The punishment was for the deception of her gender. The “Dog Emperor” had only asked Rong Qingzi one thing: “Did this person accept your token of patronage?”

Qingzi gave Linlang a cold look and nodded.

She understood the Emperor’s logic. Since Linlang had accepted the Princess’s patronage, she was technically a member of the household. Having stood before the Emperor himself, her confession, while voluntary, couldn’t be entirely overlooked. Not wanting to be too harsh, the Emperor ordered ten strokes as a symbolic gesture, then waved his hand dismissively to have her taken away.

Ten strokes wasn’t much, and usually, one could grit their teeth and bear it. However, Linlang’s constitution was delicate; at the very first strike, she let out a shriek that nearly tore her vocal cords.

Cen Xianyue was heartbroken. She stayed by Linlang’s side, clutching her hand, several times offering to take the punishment in her stead.

Linlang wouldn’t dream of letting Xianyue suffer for her. She forced herself to endure, flashing a pained smile to insist she was fine, though by the time the boards stopped falling, her jaw ached from clenching her teeth so hard.

By the time it was over, the feast had wound down. For some reason, the Emperor seemed rather amused by the whole ordeal. “Sister, this banquet of yours was certainly lively,” he said to Rong Qingzi with a meaningful look before departing with his entourage.

Rong Qingzi was not amused. Not in the slightest. She rubbed her temples, looking back and forth between the two sisters. “What on earth are you two playing at?”

Linlang pushed herself up from the red-lacquered bench with Xianyue’s help. Feeling wronged, she grumbled, “It was a setup, plain and simple…”

“Even if it was a setup, wasn’t there a more… subtle way to handle it?”

Linlang had actually considered that. But her goal wasn’t just to clear Xianyue’s name; it was to sabotage the plot. If she had simply proven Xianyue’s innocence, Xianyue would still have suffered public humiliation. Shen Zhao would still have felt that wave of “guilt” that leads to the scene where she invites Xianyue back to Jinan. The only way was to forcefully derail the narrative.

“Being framed isn’t so bad,” Linlang muttered. “At least I got a nice string of beads out of it.”

“Tsk. Xianyue, how did you end up raising such a shameless creature?” Rong Qingzi pointed at Linlang. “You’ve grown dull hanging around her. To think a clumsy maid could run circles around you tonight.”

Xianyue was beyond exhausted. She supported Linlang with a hollow, distant expression, seemingly unwilling to say another word. She gave a perfunctory apology and led Linlang away.

“Hmph. She turns into a completely different person the moment that ‘cheap sister’ of hers is involved.”

Once the garden was empty and the cold settled in, Rong Qingzi tucked her hands into her sleeves and headed inside. She closed the doors, lit the charcoal fire, and took a life-saving sip of hot tea while her maids massaged her shoulders and legs. As she closed her eyes, a masked guard stepped softly into the room, leaned in, and whispered into her ear…

******

The winter air was biting. The hand Linlang had tucked under her arm began to lose feeling, and her feet were turning stiff. Yet Xianyue continued to lead her forward, her pace quickening, her breathing heavy. The clouds of white breath she exhaled looked like steam rising from a boiling pot in her throat.

Her eyes were rimmed with red from the wind.

“Sister…” Linlang called out softly. No response.

“Sister?” Still nothing.

“Don’t be mad…”

“I’m not mad.”

The entrance to Shuxue Pavilion was now deserted. Aside from their two carriages, a third one; one Linlang didn’t recognize, was waiting. It was green, like Shen Zhao’s, but far more utilitarian.

Linlang stopped as a maid stepped down from the carriage. It wasn’t the girl from earlier; this one was dressed in sturdy, martial attire. She approached with a brisk air, cupping her fists in a respectful salute to Xianyue before pulling a dark, heavy token from her robes and handing it to Linlang.

“This is the command token of the Liang Army,” she said. “The General sends this to you. If you ever find yourself in trouble, notify us. Consider this repayment for the kindness you showed today.”

“Huh? Repayment? What kindness?” Linlang’s mouth said it was “too much,” but her hand was already closing around the token. “Oh, it was really nothing! You shouldn’t have… but since you insist! You martial arts folks really do have such high standards…” She was practically floating with pride.

“These are my General’s orders. This was her first time attending a banquet for the capital’s noble ladies, and she is deeply mortified that her maid caused such a massive scene, let alone that it led to your punishment. She also truly admires your character, Miss Pei; seeing someone so willing to lay down their life for their sister is truly enviable.”

The soldier spoke with a blunt, disciplined clarity. Having finished, she turned to Cen Xianyue. “Miss Cen, a word in private, if you please?”

Another ‘private word.’ Everyone sure loves their secrets, Linlang grumbled internally. But aloud, she said, “Go on, Sister, I’ll wait!” she waved them off frantically, mostly because she couldn’t handle the heavy, suffocating aura radiating from the female lead any longer.

Her backside was throbbing. Linlang shivered, shifting her weight awkwardly.

She stared toward the carriage, genuinely baffled as to what Liang Qianqiu could possibly have to say to Cen Xianyue for this long. Surely she’s not trying to convince her to get a divorce so she can swoop in and take her place?

Linlang’s mind immediately conjured a dramatic scene of romantic rivals clashing, eyes flashing with hidden daggers. Yikes. I don’t think Xianyue would say yes to that.

“In all these years, you’ve finally managed to act like a human being, you useless scrap.”

Cen Juexing’s voice arrived before she did. Linlang looked up to see her strolling over, arms crossed over her chest.

Linlang quickly hid the army token and tried to stand up straight. “I’m warning you, don’t try anything. One scream and your sister will be back here in a heartbeat.”

“I’m not that bored,” Juexing replied, taking a small vial from Jixiang and handing it over. “This is a bruise-healing salve our family had specially formulated for me. Take it and use it, so my sister doesn’t have to keep worrying about you.”

Linlang eyed her suspiciously. “…Since when are you this nice?”

“Take it or leave it!”

“I’ll take it! Why wouldn’t I?” Linlang snatched it away, uncorking it to take a sniff. A light, elegant scent of medicinal herbs wafted out.

Juexing continued in a low voice, “Actually, I wanted to do something for my sister too. Really, I wanted to so badly. But my courage always seems to fail me at the critical moment, so…”

She sounded… dejected? Linlang didn’t care if she was depressed or not. As she capped the salve, she spotted Cen Xianyue stepping down from the carriage and a mischievous idea immediately took root.

“How about we shake hands and make up?”

Linlang offered her hand with a fake, sweet smile. Juexing looked at her with doubt for a moment, but surprisingly, she actually fell for it.

The moment their hands touched, Linlang’s smile vanished. She let out a blood-curdling wail: “Agh! My backside is practically dead. What more do you want from me?!”

A second later:

“Cen Juexing!” Xianyue appeared right on cue. She grabbed Linlang’s hands, checking her over with frantic concern before snapping at her younger sister. “Have you lost your mind? Linlang is already in this state, and you’re still making trouble?”

“I didn’t…”

“Enough. It’s late; go home. I need to get Linlang back to rest.”

“Sister, I swear, this time I really didn’t—”

“Jixiang, take your young mistress home.”

“Sister! Sister! Damn you, Pei Linlang! We are mortal enemies!”

Watching Juexing’s retreating figure, Linlang felt a surge of smug satisfaction. At first, she thought playing the victim was a pathetic tactic, but now she realized it was the single most effective way to deal with Cen Juexing. The wisdom of her predecessors really did hold up.

She wagged her tongue and shook her head triumphantly, but as she turned back around, she was met with Xianyue’s icy, darkened expression. The smile froze on Linlang’s face instantly.

“Sister… my butt hurts…”

“We’re going home.”

“Okay.”

“…”

“Sister, you’re not mad anymore, right?”

“I told you, I’m not mad.”

*****

The carriage ride back was dead silent. Shen Zhao sat in the middle, while Linlang and Xianyue sat opposite each other on either side.

Xianyue kept her eyes closed, hands folded, not uttering a single syllable.

Linlang wasn’t stupid; she knew exactly why Xianyue was upset. She was angry that Linlang had taken the fall without consulting her—well, “angry” was the wrong word; she was terrified for her. Meanwhile, Shen Zhao seemed to be in a foul mood as well. She, too, sat with eyes closed, clearly in no mood for conversation.

Once they reached the manor, they hurried into the courtyard. The maids and older servants swarmed around them. Xianyue supported Linlang, her voice stern and deadly serious as she commanded Yunxiu to look after her properly.

The old nannies started their usual snide remarks and cold mockery, but Linlang didn’t hear a word of it. She was looking at Xianyue and then past her at Shen Zhao.

Shen Zhao looked like she had something to say, but the moment their eyes met, she looked away and hurried off.

*****

The courtyard remained the same—quiet, save for the faint whistle of wind squeezing through the gaps in the window frames.

Winters in the capital were always like this, but tonight, it left Shen Zhao feeling uncharacteristically restless.

The banquet had passed with a whimper. Because of the chaos caused by Pei Linlang and Cen Xianyue, the Xuanmiao agents hadn’t even found an opening to get near the Emperor.

As for Pei Linlang…

Her original plan had been to build her up high, then expose her true gender to strike a blow against the Eldest Princess’s faction. Instead, the whole thing had been swept under the rug with a light punishment.

Aside from those two failures, even the plot points from her dreams hadn’t triggered.

She was supposed to have a misunderstanding with Cen Xianyue, resolve it, and then invite her to travel south to Jinan. Instead, the entire emotional arc between her and Xianyue had been forcefully interrupted by Pei Linlang’s interference.

Shen Zhao felt an unsettling sensation: everything was gradually slipping from her control.

Will I even remain the center of this story?

“Sir, lift your foot.”

The washing was done, and the water was still warm. Nanny Zhang handed the wooden basin to a waiting maid and took a clean cloth from another. She knelt down and meticulously dried Shen Zhao’s feet. “Your feet are truly fair and well-proportioned, Sir.”

Shen Zhao’s feet weren’t small for a woman, but they were slender enough that she didn’t bother hiding them from the nanny, as her older brother had been quite thin himself.

Shen Zhao snapped out of her thoughts, pulled her feet back onto the daybed, and pulled up the quilt. “That will be all. Go rest.”

“Yes.” The nanny turned to leave but suddenly remembered something and turned back. “Sir, are we returning to Jinan this year? When do we set out? If we go…” she glanced toward the west wing, “…will the Madame be coming along? I should prepare the supplies for the road.”

“In a couple of days. There is still official business at the ministry to settle. As for the Madame… I will ask her tomorrow.”

“Yes, Sir.”

As things stood, Shen Zhao could only try to force the story back onto its tracks. If any more disruptions occurred… she might just have to make Pei Linlang disappear from this world entirely.

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