Chapter 22: Gaining an Unexpected Benefit
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Yu Pan’er paced back and forth in frustration, her lips tight with exasperation. She finally blurted, “Forgive me for being blunt, but the Young Madam is being too spineless!”
Zi Yuan’s eyes flared with anger. “How dare you speak to the Young Madam like that! You are out of line!”
Yu Zhi Yi smiled, her expression calm and unwavering. She gestured for Zi Yuan to hold her peace and then turned her gaze to Pan’er. “Alright, Pan’er. Since you seem to have all the answers, tell me—what would you do if you were in my position? How should I avoid being seen as spineless?”
Yu Pan’er raised her chin, feeling a surge of pride. Raised within the Yu household, she saw herself as more than just a servant. Her parents had managed the estate, and she often behaved like she was half a mistress. She had always looked down on Yu Zhi Yi, a “fake” young lady who had lost favor ever since she was ten. To Pan’er, the young mistress was weak, a mere impostor.
Now, after Yu Zhi Yi’s marriage, Pan’er had been assigned to serve her. No one explicitly said anything, but Pan’er believed she understood Madam’s true intentions—this was an opportunity for her to rise in rank. If she played her cards right, she could replace Yu Zhi Yi, winning the favor of Young Master Du. She was pretty enough, confident enough. Why not her?
But Yu Zhi Yi was hopeless—too weak, too passive. She let her husband be taken away on their wedding night and did nothing about it afterward. Even on the day she returned to the Yu family, she swallowed her grievances instead of seeking justice. She didn’t try to compete for her husband’s attention or create trouble for the other woman. Instead, she spent her days getting along with Madam Yao—her mother-in-law. It made no sense!
Why care about the mother-in-law, who would be gone someday? Pan’er couldn’t understand Yu Zhi Yi’s foolishness. She had no ambition—it was infuriating.
“Well,” Pan’er began, her voice tinged with superiority, “if you ask me, you should be gentle, considerate, and cater to Young Master Du’s interests. To win a man’s heart, you first have to win his stomach. Instead of spending time on pointless things, you should improve your cooking.”
Yu Pan’er was clearly referring to the time Yu Zhi Yi spent in the ancestral hall, lighting incense each day. “No man likes a stiff, overly serious woman,” Pan’er continued, her voice dripping with disdain. “And no man, Young Master Du especially, wants a wife who spends all her time in some shrine. A proper wife should be dignified, sure, but if you’re too rigid, you’ll only drive people away.”
Zi Yuan’s face turned red with rage, her fists clenched. She could barely keep herself from lunging at Pan’er. How could she talk about the Young Madam that way? Especially belittling her incense offerings—it was too much.
But Yu Zhi Yi wasn’t angry. She looked at Pan’er, unbothered. After all, she’d been reborn—this petty arrogance meant nothing now. She had learned her lessons well. There was no point in letting a few careless words ruffle her.
Instead, Yu Zhi Yi clapped her hands, nodding thoughtfully. “Well said.”
Zi Yuan looked stunned. Yu Pan’er, on the other hand, was delighted. She knew this so-called young mistress was a coward, always had been. Back at the Yu estate, Yu Zhi Yi had always been beaten down by Yu Jiao Jiao. Nothing had changed.
Except Pan’er was wrong. Yu Zhi Yi hadn’t been beaten down, not really. She had simply lost interest in fighting back after a few attempts. Yu Jiao Jiao’s tricks were laughably transparent—anyone could see through them. But Yu Zhi Yi’s parents, the Yu couple, and even her five brothers, all chose to believe them anyway. They acted like they were blind. She had tried to show them the truth a few times, tried to prove Yu Jiao Jiao wasn’t as innocent as they thought.
But what was the point? They were family—Yu Jiao Jiao was bound to them by blood. Yu Zhi Yi? She was just the daughter of a thief, a vile criminal who had stolen someone else’s child. Her struggles only branded her as cruel and manipulative in their eyes.
So why bother?
Yu Zhi Yi shook off the memories, turning her attention back to Pan’er. Her voice was even, almost kind. “It seems you’re quite capable, Pan’er. No matter where you are, you always find a way to thrive.”
Pan’er blinked, confused. “Wh… what do you mean, Young Madam?”
Yu Zhi Yi smiled softly. “Go and report to Aunt Wen. You’ll be learning how to manage the household from her. When I eventually take over all the responsibilities here at the manor, I might need your help.”
Pan’er’s eyes went wide with delight. “Young Madam, do you mean it? You’re not lying to me?”
“I’m a practitioner of metaphysical arts, Pan’er. I don’t tell lies.”
Pan’er didn’t bother hiding her grin as she curtsied, mumbling a quick “Thank you, Young Madam” before hurrying off.
Zi Yuan, still fuming, turned to Yu Zhi Yi. “Miss, she was so rude. Why would you give her such an important role?”
Yu Zhi Yi glanced down at her teacup, watching the leaves swirl in the hot water—tiny boats caught in a tempest, unable to reach shore. She took a breath, her gaze still on the tea. “Go tell Aunt Wen that she can treat Pan’er as she sees fit—using Mother’s old rules. Reward or punish her as needed.”
Pan’er was arrogant, proud. At the Yu estate, she’d acted like she was more than just a servant. And now, in the Chancellor’s manor, she was so brazen as to lecture her own mistress.
Yu Zhi Yi wasn’t the Yu family’s true daughter, but she could never forget their kindness in raising her. She was a practitioner of metaphysics—she couldn’t afford to invite bad karma without reason. If Pan’er wanted to ruin herself, then so be it. Yu Zhi Yi wouldn’t be the one to do it.
Could Pan’er, someone who barely knew her letters and had never been diligent at the Yu estate, truly settle down to learn how to manage a household? Yu Zhi Yi doubted it.
She was curious to see how things would play out.
Meanwhile, Aunt Wen entered Madam Yao’s chambers, her face lined with thought. Madam Yao, sensing something was amiss, looked up from her sewing. “What’s wrong, Aunt Wen?”
Aunt Wen shook herself from her thoughts and relayed what had happened—Pan’er’s sudden arrival, Yu Zhi Yi’s orders, everything.
Madam Yao sighed heavily. “I’ve been making inquiries lately. It seems Yi’er had a very hard time in the Yu estate.” She closed her eyes briefly, pained by the thought. “They weren’t treating her right—not like a proper family should. Yi’er must be worried about the Yu family, which is why she won’t deal with that maid herself. You shouldn’t hold back either. Follow her words—reward or punish as you see fit. If Pan’er makes a major mistake, don’t hesitate.”
Aunt Wen nodded solemnly. “Understood, Madam.”
Madam Yao frowned, deep in thought. Her son had brought another woman into the household—again. And she had let that woman stay, apologizing for wanting to run away and leave everything behind. She felt a pang of guilt toward Yi’er. She’d failed her.
“Aunt Wen,” she finally said, “take the string of prayer beads from my bedside. The ones that were blessed—bring them to the Young Madam personally.”
When Yu Zhi Yi received the prayer beads, she stared at them, puzzled. “?”
She hadn’t done anything deserving of such a gift. And yet here she was, holding a treasure.
The beads had clearly been offered before a statue for forty-nine days, blessed by a true monk. They were powerful—to ordinary people, they were priceless, and even to someone like her, they held immense value.
Yu Zhi Yi smiled, shaking her head in disbelief. Sometimes, benefits really did come when least expected.