Nonsense! She’s Not a Bad Woman! - Chapter 87

“Princess, your nose is bleeding!” Qiao Wanyan exclaimed in shock.

Qiao Yihuan also turned to look at He Baozhu, and sure enough, she saw fresh red blood trickling down from her nose.

He Baozhu’s face instantly flushed crimson. She quickly tilted her head back, intending to swallow the blood, but before she could, Qiao Wanyan cupped her face with both hands. Their gazes locked—so close it was suffocating.

Qiao Wanyan could only watch as Baozhu’s nosebleed flowed even more fiercely. Resisting the urge to shove her away for fear the blood might stain her own clothes, she took out a handkerchief and pressed it against Baozhu’s nose.

He Baozhu hurriedly stumbled back two steps and turned away. No, no, no—if she let that flawless beauty, who looked like she had been carved out of jade, keep touching her face, she’d bleed out and die on the spot.

Qiao Wanyan’s hands froze awkwardly in midair. Watching Qiao Yihuan tenderly step in to help Baozhu instead, she turned back nervously and asked,

“Your Highness… does the princess dislike me?”

Qiao Yihuan glanced at her, faint resentment flickering in her eyes—as though displeased that she always ran to bother the Crown Prince over every little matter.

“Of course not. Baozhu was just startled earlier. She didn’t mean to avoid you.”

Relief softened Qiao Wanyan’s peach-blossom features. She stretched out her delicate hand and cooed, “Your Highness, my hand got stained with blood.”

She had already given her handkerchief to the Tenth Princess, so she had nothing left to wipe with.

He Zhiyu wordlessly offered her his own handkerchief. But Qiao Yihuan’s gaze darkened—her clear, spring-like eyes flickering with hurt and betrayal—as she stared at the cloth in Wanyan’s hand.

Liu Yanran frowned slightly. Such a green-tea move—couldn’t the Crown Prince see through it?

Deliberately acting coy in front of Yihuan, obviously trying to provoke her… wasn’t that too bullying?

And the Crown Prince too! Wasn’t he supposed to love Yihuan above all else, never sparing another woman a glance—the very model of a virtuous man?

Yet now… wasn’t this nothing short of a scumbag’s betrayal? And the worst part—he didn’t even realize it himself!

At some point, Ziyuan had moved to Qiao Wanyan’s side. Wanyan glanced at her, then lowered her head demurely and said softly, “Your Highness, perhaps we should head inside first. That way, the princess can change and freshen up.”

He Zhiyu gave a slight nod. “Yihuan, since we’re already here, let’s go see your little mother. That way you’ll feel at ease.”

Qiao Yihuan nodded. Once He Baozhu’s nosebleed had finally stopped, the group made their way toward the estate’s gates—long closed for years.

As they drew nearer, a harsh clattering suddenly rang out from inside.

The sound of bronze vessels crashing to the ground.

“Pah! Friends of Yihuan? That girl only wants to use our Yihuan as a stepping stone to climb higher! She’s no different from that little slut born of Madam Jin—just another fox-faced temptress!”

“Nanny, please don’t say that,” another woman hurriedly tried to soothe her. “That is still the Second Young Miss—she’s the Eldest Miss’s sister after all!”

Madam Wu sneered. “And what of it? That slut Jin never tolerated me. Otherwise, would I be wasting my life holed up in this broken estate? The mother was a jealous vixen—how could her daughter turn out any better?”

Her voice dripped with venom, resentment that had festered for years. Sharing the same master yet treated worlds apart—the injustice had twisted her heart beyond recognition.

“She knows perfectly well the Crown Prince doesn’t like her, yet she keeps forcing herself on him. Isn’t it all just to step on my Yihuan and climb higher? Shameless little fox—just like her mother, nothing but a pretty shell hiding a scheming seductress!”

Outside the door, Qiao Wanyan’s face turned deathly pale.

Jingyuan instinctively glanced at her. Surely, the Second Miss would storm inside and curse them back—then chaos would erupt, with the Eldest Miss siding with her own mother. By then, His Highness would surely have a massive headache.

But Second Miss didn’t rush inside. She just froze on the spot, her eyes reddening.

He Zhiyu’s expression darkened, as if shrouded by storm clouds. The depths of his gaze were icy cold.

He had never once set foot on this manor himself. At most, he occasionally sent Jingyuan to deliver a few things.

He had only heard from Jingyuan once that Yihuan’s mother was a woman of passionate temperament. But now… it seemed she was nothing like the description.

“I didn’t—” A trembling, tear-choked voice rang out.

He Zhiyu turned to the side. Standing beside him was Qiao Wanyan, her face as pale as snow, delicate features flushed with sorrow. The crimson rim around her eyes made her look all the more pitiful—like the most beautiful glow of sunset against the pale-blue heavens, dazzling yet fragile.

A single teardrop fell, and Qiao Wanyan quickly brushed it away.

“Your Highness, I feel unwell. I’d like to go home first.”

Her words dropped, and she turned in haste, leaving as though fleeing from some unbearable grievance.

Qiao Yihuan wanted to explain, but before she could speak, the Crown Prince cut her off.

“Yihuan, I’ll escort your sister back first.”

Before Qiao Yihuan could reply, He Zhiyu added, “Jingyuan, take Pearl back as well.”

Qiao Yihuan stiffened. “Your Highness?!”

Xiaoying hurried to soothe her. “Miss, His Highness only wishes to send the princess back to the capital, and Second Miss is just going along. Don’t overthink it. Besides, His Highness didn’t say anything else, did he?”

Qiao Yihuan bit her lip hard, watching the two figures board the same carriage together. Don’t overthink it? Didn’t say anything?

If His Highness truly hadn’t thought much of it, then why was he personally escorting Qiao Wanyan back to the capital?

And Mother—why choose this moment to spout such reckless words!

She had warned her time and again to watch her tongue, so why did she never listen?

“Miss, let’s go inside and check on Madam first?” Xiaoying’s voice was soft with comfort, though her heart ached for her mistress, dragged into this disaster for no reason.

It was Madam’s careless words that angered His Highness, yet in the end, it was her young lady who bore the grievance.

Qiao Yihuan clenched her fists tightly. “Forget it. With Mother still scolding so loudly, she can’t be that sick. We’re going back.”

If not for the messenger who claimed her mother was gravely ill and wanted to see her one last time, she never would have rushed back so hastily from Apothecary Valley.

She had gone through untold hardships, even swallowing an overdose of poisonous herbs herself, all just to make the Crown Prince escort her to Apothecary Valley.

All for the ointment that could erase her scars. Yet in the end, not only did she fail to obtain it—she even dragged His Highness into needless trouble.

Clutching her injured shoulder, her face grew grim.

Inside the manor, two servant women listened to Madam Wu’s endless ranting. Finally, using the excuse of needing to sweep the back courtyard, they slipped away.

One of them handed over half the silver hidden in her pouch. “That should be enough for all the nonsense we stirred up, don’t you think?”

The other nodded quietly. “After serving Wu-shi all these years, don’t we already know which words will set her temper off like a firecracker?”

The first chuckled. “Exactly. Still, Second Miss is generous. If not for the extra allowance our master grants, I’d never have endured that woman for so long.”

The two shared a knowing smile, cheerfully carrying their brooms toward the back courtyard.