The moment Chang-Pu appeared—
Jing-Yi's reaction was immediate.
As if struck by unbearable grievance, her eyes reddened, and she hurried forward, collapsing into his chest. Her fingers clutched tightly onto his robes as soft, broken sobs escaped her lips.
"My lord..." she wept, her voice trembling pitifully.
It was a perfect performance.
Behind her, Hai-Rang and Ya-Ting lowered their heads, their shoulders shaking as if holding back tears. Soft sniffles filled the air, carefully timed, carefully controlled.
Even Shu-Fen covered her lips, her body quivering as though deeply wronged.
Only Mei-Lin stood still.
Her brows furrowed ever so slightly as she glanced at Bai-Xue, concern flickering in her eyes—
but she remained silent.
Because in this household—
silence was survival.
Chang-Pu's expression darkened the moment he saw them.
Then—
his gaze shifted.
And landed on Bai-Xue.
Instantly—
rage exploded.
"You vile, pathetic girl!" he roared, his voice shaking the hall. "What have you done this time?!"
The servants trembled, lowering their heads further.
"Have you no shame?" he continued harshly. "Have you made it your habit to torment everyone?! Will you not allow this family a single moment of peace?!"
Jing-Yi tightened her hold on him, crying even harder.
"My lord..." she sobbed, "I don't know what has come over Bai-Xue... she has taken all responsibility of managing the household finances away from me..."
Her voice broke convincingly.
"And now... she is accusing me of corruption..."
"Father—" Hai-Rang stepped forward, her voice filled with false grievance. "Bai-Xue even said she would report us to the Royal Court."
Ya-Ting added quickly, "She wants a full investigation... on all of us!"
The moment those words were spoken—
Chang-Pu's expression turned terrifying.
Without another word—
he strode forward.
Fast.
And then—
SLAP—!
The sound rang sharply through the treasury hall.
Bai-Xue's face turned slightly from the force, a red mark blooming across her cheek.
Silence fell.
Heavy.
Oppressive.
Behind their sleeves—
Jing-Yi, Hai-Rang, Ya-Ting, and Shu-Fen hid their smiles.
Their trembling shoulders betrayed them—
not grief—
but satisfaction.
Only Mei-Lin's expression tightened, her fingers curling slightly at her sides.
But even she said nothing.
Chang-Pu's cold voice cut through the stillness.
"Bai-Xue," he said, each word laced with authority, "return all financial control of the Ning Family to Jing-Yi immediately."
His eyes hardened.
"And there will be no investigation."
A pause.
"Do you understand?"
"This matter does not concern you."
For a brief moment—
Bai-Xue stood still.
Then slowly—
she raised her head.
Her eyes burned.
"No."
The single word fell like a stone into deep water.
"I will not return anything to Concubine Jing-Yi."
Her voice was cold.
"Because she is incapable."
Shock rippled through the room.
"And you—" Bai-Xue continued, looking directly at Chang-Pu, "you never even try to learn the truth."
Her voice trembled faintly with restrained anger.
"They have used my mother's dowry as if it belongs to them."
Her gaze sharpened.
"Everything here... is mine."
"Enough!" Chang-Pu roared. "In this house, only my orders matter!"
But Bai-Xue did not retreat.
Instead—
she stepped forward.
"There is nothing here that belongs to you," she said, her voice rising.
"Not even the clothes you wear—"
A sharp pause.
"—were bought with anything other than my mother's taels of silver."
A collective gasp echoed.
Those words—
were not just defiance.
They were humiliation.
"You see their false tears," Bai-Xue continued bitterly, "but knowing the truth has never mattered to you, has it... Father?"
That word—
carried no warmth.
Chang-Pu inhaled sharply, fury barely contained.
"What status do you even have?" he sneered. "What have you ever given to the Ning Family except disgrace?!"
His voice grew harsher.
"I feel nothing but shame because of you."
Silence.
Then—
Bai-Xue let out a soft, hollow laugh.
"Shame?" she repeated.
Her eyes glistened—
yet no tears fell.
"I am the Princess of this nation."
Her voice was steady.
"The only reason the Ning Family holds any standing at all..."
A pause.
"...is because a princess lives under its roof."
Chang-Pu scoffed coldly.
"You are exactly like your mother," he said. "Always trying to humiliate me."
Bai-Xue's expression hardened.
"And you?" she shot back.
Her voice cracked—just slightly.
"You see Hai-Rang, Ya-Ting, and Shu-Fen as your daughters..."
Her lips trembled.
"But for me..."
A pause.
"You have only ever had hatred."
Her voice dropped.
"Why?"
The question hung in the air.
"Why do you hate me so much?"
Her fists clenched.
"I am your blood too..."
"You are —!"
Chang-Pu began, his voice sharp—
But before he could finish—
a deep, commanding voice echoed from the entrance.
"What is going on here?"
The room froze.
All heads turned instantly.
Standing at the doorway—
his presence calm yet overwhelming—
was Jia-Hai.
His gaze swept across the room—the tension, the fear, the silent cruelty—
and finally rested on Bai-Xue.
The moment Jia-Hai laid eyes on Bai-Xue, standing amidst the tense crowd—
he understood.
He had seen this scene far too many times before.
The silence, the accusing gazes, the fragile victimhood of others—
and at the center of it all—
Bai-Xue.
Alone.
A shadow of anger darkened his expression.
Without hesitation, he stepped forward and placed himself before her, his tall frame shielding her completely from the others.
Like an unshakable wall.
"Chang-Pu," Jia-Hai spoke, his voice low yet filled with restrained fury, "forgiving your endless mistakes…"
He paused.
"…I have grown tired."
The weight behind those words made the air itself feel heavy.
Then—
his gaze shifted.
And landed on Bai-Xue's face.
For a single second—
everything stilled.
The faint redness on her cheek—
clear evidence.
Unmistakable.
Something inside Jia-Hai snapped.
The calm in his eyes vanished, replaced by a storm of pure rage.
Before anyone could react—
he moved.
BANG—!
His kick struck Chang-Pu with brutal force, sending him crashing to the ground.
Gasps echoed throughout the treasury hall.
"You dare?!" Jia-Hai's voice thundered, each word trembling with fury. "You dared to raise your hand against Bai-Xue?!"
Chang-Pu groaned, struggling to rise, shock and humiliation flashing across his face.
Before he could even steady himself—
Ya-Ting and Hai-Rang rushed forward.
"Father!" they cried, helping him up.
Then, turning toward Jia-Hai, their expressions filled with urgency and false righteousness—
"Grandfather, this is not Father's fault!" Ya-Ting said quickly.
"Yes!" Hai-Rang added, her voice trembling. "It was Bai-Xue's fault! She is the one causing trouble—she is trying to ruin the Ning Family's reputation!"
Ya-Ting continued immediately, "Father only acted to discipline her… to correct her mistakes!"
Their words tumbled over each other—
desperate.
But before they could say more—
"Silence."
Jia-Hai's voice cut through them like a blade.
The two girls froze instantly.
Fear crept into their eyes.
"You dare speak of the Ning Family's honor?" Jia-Hai said, his gaze sharp and unforgiving. "When it is you who chip away at it day after day with your schemes and petty tricks?"
His voice grew colder with each word.
"Do not speak of honor in front of me."
The hall fell deathly silent.
No one dared to breathe.
Then—
Jia-Hai turned.
His expression softened—just slightly—as he faced Bai-Xue.
The storm in his eyes quieted.
"Child," he said gently, his voice no longer harsh, "does it hurt?"
A faint pause.
Then, with a trace of regret—
"Forgive me… for letting you have such a father."
His words carried a deep, unspoken sorrow.
"A man who does not even realize what he is losing."
Bai-Xue looked at him.
Her expression, though calm, softened just a little.
"I am fine, Grandfather," she replied quietly.
Her voice steady.
"There is no need for you to worry."
Jia-Hai stood firm, his presence alone suppressing the restless tension in the treasury hall.
"Bai-Xue," he said, his voice steady yet carrying unquestionable authority, "speak without fear. I am here. No one will dare wrong you while I stand."
Before Bai-Xue could respond—
"Father!" Chang-Pu's voice exploded with anger.
His expression was dark, almost twisted with indignation.
"This… obedient and innocent granddaughter of yours," he said with biting sarcasm, pointing toward Bai-Xue, "has come to drag the Ning Family's honor through the mud!"
Murmurs spread faintly among the servants, quickly dying under Jia-Hai's oppressive aura.
"She is planning to report the Ning Family to the Royal Court!" Chang-Pu continued, his voice rising. "She wants an official investigation against her own family!"
His hand trembled as he pointed toward Jing-Yi.
"And not only that—she dares to accuse me… and her own mother—of theft!"
The accusation echoed heavily in the hall.
"And yet you ask her to explain?" Chang-Pu scoffed bitterly. "Very well—ask her. Ask your precious granddaughter what her intentions are!"
All eyes turned toward Bai-Xue.
Under countless gazes—
she stepped forward.
Her movements were slow, composed, almost graceful. There was no trace of panic, no attempt to defend herself hastily.
Only quiet control.
"Father," Bai-Xue began, her voice soft but clear, "since you have chosen to speak…"
She paused, her gaze steady.
"…then at least speak the whole truth."
There was no anger in her tone—
but the sharpness of it made Chang-Pu's expression stiffen.
"And besides," she continued, her lips curving ever so slightly, though the smile did not reach her eyes, "you did not even allow me to speak before judging me."
Her fingers tightened slightly at her sides.
"You listened only to Sister Ya-Ting and Hai-Rang…"
A faint breath left her lips.
"And without hearing a single word from me… you decided I was at fault."
Her gaze lifted fully to meet his.
"And struck me."
No accusation.
No raised voice.
Yet every word landed with quiet force.
"For something like this…" she added softly, "what more can I say?"
A pause.
"When has my opinion ever mattered to you?"
The question hung in the air, heavy and inescapable.
"When have you ever trusted me?"
For a brief moment—
something flickered in her eyes.
Not weakness.
But the memory of something long denied.
Then—
it was gone.
Bai-Xue turned slightly toward Jia-Hai, her posture straightening once more.
"Grandfather," she said respectfully, "just now, I examined the financial ledgers managed by Concubine Jing-Yi."
She lifted the ledger slightly.
"And what I found… was not management."
Her gaze grew colder.
"It was deception."
A visible ripple of unease spread across the room.
"The dowry my mother, Princess Huang-Lin, brought with her—" Bai-Xue continued, her voice steady and precise, "including the gold yuanbao—has been used freely by the Ning Family for years."
Her words were calm—
but each one struck like a measured blow.
"There are no proper records. No consistent accounts. No explanation for the missing funds."
Jing-Yi's fingers tightened within her sleeves.
"And when I asked for clarification today," Bai-Xue added, placing the ledger back down, "this incomplete and manipulated record was presented to me."
Her gaze swept across Jing-Yi, Ya-Ting, and the others.
"Dates are missing. Entries are altered. Large amounts of wealth have no trace."
Silence deepened.
"Because of this," Bai-Xue continued, "I have relieved Concubine Jing-Yi of her duties."
Shock flickered across several faces.
"And from today onward, I will personally oversee all financial matters of the Ning Family."
Her voice remained composed.
"Because it is clear that she is incapable of fulfilling this responsibility."
Jing-Yi's face paled, but she did not dare interrupt.
"As for the missing funds," Bai-Xue said, her tone lowering slightly, "it is evident that there has been significant embezzlement."
The word itself seemed to freeze the air.
"That is why I have decided to request an official investigation."
A sharp intake of breath was heard from somewhere in the hall.
Then—
Bai-Xue took a final step forward.
Her presence, though calm, now carried undeniable authority.
"Grandfather," she said, her voice firm yet respectful, "I do not believe I am in the wrong."
Her eyes hardened.
"They have treated my mother's dowry as if it belongs to them."
A brief pause.
"But the rightful owner of that wealth…"
Her gaze sharpened like a drawn blade.
"…is me."
No hesitation.
No doubt.
"And as the sole daughter of Princess Huang-Lin," Bai-Xue concluded, "I have every right to reclaim what is mine…"
Her voice, though not loud, echoed through the silent hall.
"…and to demand accountability from those who misused it."
The silence that followed—
was absolute.
Chang-Pu let out a cold, mocking laugh, unable to hide the irritation on his face.
"Did you all hear that?" he said, his tone filled with ridicule as he glanced toward Jia-Hai. "Listen carefully, Father… these are the words of your innocent and obedient granddaughter."
His voice carried clear sarcasm, as though Bai-Xue's calm reasoning had only further provoked him.
Before the tension could settle—
a soft, trembling voice broke through.
"Enough…"
All eyes turned.
Jing-Yi stood there, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. Her delicate frame seemed to tremble under the weight of emotion as she slowly stepped forward.
"I… I am not hurt by Bai-Xue's words," she said gently, her voice quivering, as if she were trying to remain strong despite deep pain.
Her gaze turned toward Bai-Xue, filled with what appeared to be sorrow and disbelief.
"But Bai-Xue… how could you think that I would ever do something so deceitful?"
A tear slid down her cheek.
"After your mother, Huang-Lin, passed away… do you even know how much responsibility fell upon me?"
Her voice softened further, almost breaking.
"You only lost your mother…"
She paused, placing a trembling hand over her chest.
"But I… I lost a sister."
Her words carried a carefully crafted grief.
"She was not just the Lady of this household… she was my closest companion… someone who stood by me at every step, like a younger sister who trusted me with her whole heart."
Another tear fell.
"Do you know how much that loss broke me?"
The servants lowered their heads, some already moved by her performance.
"But even while drowning in that sorrow," Jing-Yi continued, "I had no choice but to stand up… to take responsibility for this entire household."
Her voice grew steadier, though still filled with emotion.
"If there were times when I failed to record some expenses… then yes, that is my mistake."
She lowered her head slightly, appearing humble.
"But to accuse me of fraud…?"
Her voice trembled again.
"For me, money has never been important."
Her eyes slowly swept across the room.
"What matters to me… is this family. These children."
Her gaze softened as she looked at Ya-Ting and Hai-Rang.
"And you, Bai-Xue…"
She took a small step closer, her expression filled with what seemed like deep affection.
"You are the precious child Huang-Lin left behind."
Her voice lowered, almost like a whisper.
"I promised her… that I would love you even more than my own daughters."
A tear slipped down again.
"And I have kept that promise."
Her lips trembled.
"But today…"
A pause.
"You accuse me like this…"
Her shoulders shook slightly, as if holding back sobs.
"Still… I will not blame you."
Her voice softened once more.
"I forgive you, Bai-Xue."
A heavy silence followed.
To an outsider—
it was a scene of heartbreaking sincerity.
A grieving woman, misunderstood despite her sacrifices.
But—
Bai-Xue stood there, watching.
Her expression did not change.
Not even slightly.
Inside her mind—
a faint, almost amused thought surfaced.
…Oh, impressive.
Her gaze lingered on Jing-Yi, calm and unreadable.
Such flawless acting…
A subtle, almost invisible smirk touched her thoughts.
Truly… she should join a drama troupe.
Bai-Xue listened to Jing-Yi's emotional display without interrupting.
Not once did her expression soften.
When Jing-Yi finally finished—
Bai-Xue stepped forward.
Her movements were slow, controlled, and dignified, yet there was an undeniable sharpness in her presence now, like a blade being unsheathed.
"Concubine Jing-Yi," she began, her tone calm, but no longer gentle, "there is no need to bring up old sentiments to justify what is happening here."
Her gaze was steady, unwavering.
"The matters you speak of… have no place in this discussion."
A faint pause.
Then her eyes turned colder.
"Despite claiming such deep affection for my mother," she continued, "more than half of her belongings are now in your private chambers."
Her words fell one by one, precise and cutting.
"And the rest… are scattered among your daughters."
Ya-Ting and Hai-Rang stiffened.
"And yet," Bai-Xue added, "the matter at hand is not merely about possession…"
Her voice lowered slightly.
"It is about what has disappeared."
A ripple of unease spread through the hall.
"When it came to taking my mother's place in this household," Bai-Xue said, her tone sharpening, "you showed no hesitation."
Her eyes locked onto Jing-Yi.
"You seized every opportunity… every advantage that came with it."
Not a single word was wasted.
"But when it came to responsibility…"
She lifted the ledger slightly.
"…all I received were incomplete records."
The book closed with a soft sound.
"Half-written accounts. Missing entries. Fabricated numbers."
Her gaze grew piercing.
"And your explanation for all this…"
A faint, almost imperceptible tilt of her head.
"…is grief?"
The word lingered in the air.
"If grief was your excuse," Bai-Xue continued, her voice now colder than before, "then tell me—"
Her eyes swept across Jing-Yi's attire, the ornaments, the lavish surroundings.
"Why is it that even the wealthiest lady in this entire country would not live as luxuriously as you do now?"
The question struck like thunder.
A suffocating silence followed.
Before anyone else could respond—
Chang-Pu's anger flared once again.
"Enough!" he snapped, his voice filled with irritation. "Why are you doing all this, Bai-Xue?!"
His eyes burned with frustration.
"Have you no shame?"
A step forward.
"What exactly do you want?!"
The question echoed loudly in the hall.
At that moment—
Jia-Hai slowly stepped closer.
His expression had calmed, but the authority he carried had only deepened.
He raised his hand and gently placed it on Bai-Xue's head.
The gesture was simple—
but filled with protection.
"Indeed," Jia-Hai said, his voice steady, yet carrying a quiet warmth, "answer your father."
There was no pressure in his tone.
Only support.
"What is it that you want, Bai-Xue?"
A faint smile appeared on his lips—
not mocking,
not doubtful—
but proud.
Proud of the strength she had shown.
His gaze held hers firmly.
"Say it clearly."