CHAPTER EIGHT — TO HARM ONE'S OWN HEART AND ONE'S OWN BODY
Su Zijin's gaze drifted to the two jackets in Su Ying's hands—one a soft pink, the other a pale lotus shade. Both were light, delicate colours. She lifted her eyes and scanned the shop. Every garment on display was similarly gentle in tone—creams, pastels, muted silks. Not a single bold green in sight.
Of course not.
That shade had been chosen deliberately.
"Big Sister, do you not like these?" Su Ying asked quickly, mistaking Su Zijin's silence. "Then choose one yourself. There are so many lovely pieces here."
She tugged Su Zijin deeper into the shop, eager, almost frantic.
"I'll take this one," Su Zijin said lightly, accepting the lotus‑coloured dress. "I trust Second Sister's taste."
Su Ying's smile brightened. "Then let's try them on together. This way."
She led Su Zijin to the side door, where two narrow changing rooms—ear rooms—waited. Each was barely large enough for one person, with a small round table, a chair, and a tall window set unusually high in the wall.
Su Ying darted into the left room with her pink jacket, as if to prove she truly intended to change clothes. If not for Concubine Fang's scheming behind her, Su Ying would have been nothing more than a pawn for Su Lingshan. Even now, she was being used without realising it.
But since they were so eager to rush toward their own downfall, Su Zijin had no intention of stopping them.
She stepped into the right room, closed the door, and tossed the dress onto the table. Then she examined the space carefully. The window was high—too high for an ordinary woman to reach—but not for her.
Concubine Fang had underestimated her.
With a light tap of her foot on the stool, Su Zijin sprang upward, her body moving with the grace of a butterfly. She slipped through the window and landed silently in a small enclosed courtyard. The walls were lined with identical high windows—each leading to a changing room.
Su Ying's room was directly beside hers.
Su Zijin pushed off the wall, lifted herself up, and peered inside.
Perfect.
Su Ying was behind the screen, struggling clumsily with her clothes. Her original outfit lay neatly folded on the chair.
Su Zijin slipped inside like a shadow, snatched the clothes, and vanished back out the window before Su Ying even finished tying her sash.
Once outside, she dropped lightly to the ground, holding the stolen garments. A cold smile curved her lips.
She picked up a small stone, flicked it with a sharp twist of her wrist, and watched as it sliced through the fabric like a blade. In moments, the clothes were shredded into ribbons, scattered across the courtyard like fallen petals.
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Inside the changing room, Su Ying finally finished dressing. She stepped out from behind the screen and admired herself in the bronze mirror. Her figure was graceful, her face delicate—she looked every bit the noble young lady she believed herself to be.
But what pleased her most was the thought of what would happen next.
Once Su Zijin stepped out of the shop, her reputation would be destroyed. No beauty could save her then.
"Su Zijin," she murmured smugly to her reflection, "don't blame me for being heartless. Blame yourself for clinging to the position of legitimate daughter. Blame your mother for not giving it up."
She turned—
—and froze.
Her clothes were gone.
The chair was empty. The table was bare. The room was stripped of anything she had brought in.
Panic surged through her. She searched frantically—under the table, behind the screen, even beneath the stool—but there was nothing.
She couldn't leave wearing this bright, eye‑catching jacket. It would draw every eye in the shop.
Just as she was about to cry out for help, she heard voices outside.
"Wasn't that the young miss from the Su family who was taken just now?"
"Yes! Who were those men? Bold as brass, grabbing her in broad daylight. And all of them men—her reputation is ruined!"
"Indeed. If a woman is carried off by men, she's finished. We must report it to the authorities at once!"
Footsteps hurried away, fading into the distance.
Su Ying's panic melted into relief.
So Su Zijin had already been taken. She must have left earlier—Su Ying had heard the door open. Everything had gone according to plan.
Since Su Zijin was already ruined, she could simply walk out wearing this jacket.
She opened the door confidently and stepped out. She tossed a money pouch to the shopkeeper, collected the dresses she had chosen, and left the shop with a spring in her step.
But the moment she turned into the side street where the Fang family's carriage waited, several rough‑looking men burst from the crowd.
"Little beauty," the leader growled, grabbing her around the waist, "big brother's missed you. Come with me."
Before she could scream, he hoisted her onto his horse. A sharp blow to the back of her neck sent her into darkness.
"Bandits!" someone shouted. "The bandits from Dragon Lake!"
The street erupted into chaos—shouts, gasps, frantic whispers. Within moments, the news spread like wildfire: a young woman had been kidnapped by bandits in broad daylight.
While the crowd stared after the fleeing riders, a quiet figure slipped out of the clothing shop's side door.
Su Zijin.
She watched the commotion with a faint shake of her head.
She had thought Concubine Fang would hire a few thugs with basic martial skills. She hadn't expected her to call in bandits from Longyuan Peak.
They truly wanted her destroyed.
But harming others often meant harming oneself.
She walked calmly through the crowd. No one noticed her slip into the back alley. Even the Fang family's servants failed to realise anything was amiss.
As planned, Xia He had already found a carriage and was waiting.
"Miss, what's happening up ahead? It looks so lively."
"Someone stole something," Su Zijin said casually, lifting the curtain and stepping inside.
"Oh." Xia He nodded, satisfied.
"Shall we return to the manor?"
"It's still early," Su Zijin said, watching the sunlight spill across the street. "No rush."
She leaned back, eyes half‑closed.
"Let's take a walk."