Chapter 55: The Scapegoat Princess Consort Sentenced to Death

Yanchitang, Back Parlor.

"In my opinion, perhaps we should just follow Xuan'er's wishes and let her become a nun. After all, given Xuan'er's current situation, what else can she do if she doesn't become a nun? We certainly can't just keep her at home forever, turning her into an old maid whom no one dares to marry or even propose to. While the family can afford to support her, if she never marries, how are the younger children supposed to negotiate marriages? There will inevitably be gossip."

Today, having gone out to try and find a match for her third daughter only to be rebuffed on all sides, and after listening to what her third daughter had to say, Madam Meng was also somewhat shaken.

Indeed, letting things go on like this indefinitely was not a solution.

Although becoming a Buddhist or Taoist nun was not considered particularly prestigious, it was still somewhat more palatable than remaining unwed at home and unwanted by everyone.

And judging by the current circumstances, the possibility of her daughter never finding a husband was quite high.

"Sigh, let's wait a little longer. The girl is only fifteen or sixteen years old this year; what is the rush? Who knows, things might improve in a couple of years. Or perhaps I can figure out another way and see if I can perform some meritorious service to request an imperial marriage decree from His Majesty.

At this point, expecting people to come knocking on our door with marriage proposals is basically out of the question; we can only rely on an imperial decree.

With an imperial decree, prospective suitors wouldn't have those concerns, knowing it has His Majesty's sanction."

Since he did not have to directly worry about his children's marriage arrangements, the Duke of Shuguo bore much less pressure in this regard than his wife, and naturally remained more optimistic at the moment.

He felt that perhaps they could try a little harder.

As he drank his tea, he spoke with relative ease.

However, Madam Meng continued to shake her head and said:

"You didn't understand my meaning. What I am saying is that now it is our daughter who no longer wants to marry. Today I even mentioned to Xuan'er that we still have the option of an imperial marriage decree. But she said she no longer wishes to entrust her life and future into the hands of others, especially into the hands of the current Emperor.

She also said that she considers her former self as dead—the one who was once married and buried alongside Prince Lu. The present-day she wants to live a freer life. Remaining an unwed old maid at home would bring shame to the family.

Rather than that, she would rather become a nun.

Whether as a Taoist priestess or a Buddhist nun, at least those who have taken monastic vows are far freer than ordinary maidservants or married women. With an official monastic certificate, she can travel almost anywhere across the realm, save for a few classified locations.

She spoke at length with me, and judging by her intentions, she has completely lost faith in the institution of marriage and wishes to become a Taoist or Buddhist nun to wander the world as a traveler."

Upon hearing this, the Duke of Shuguo immediately put down the teacup he had been holding, frowned with displeasure, and rebuked:

"Nonsense! Listening to you, are you actually agreeing with her ideas? Even if she truly becomes a Taoist or Buddhist nun, it is impossible to let her wander the world alone! A young lady wandering the world—how could she even conceive of such a thing? Does she really think doors are left unlocked at night and lost property is left untouched on the roads?

The capital is already the most civilized place in the realm.

Yet every year, how many children and women go missing?

Whose wild nonsense is she listening to? Even if she truly takes vows, at most we can designate a courtyard specifically for her to cultivate at home. Alternatively, we can register her as a resident at a Taoist temple or monastery near the capital. If all else fails, we can simply buy a mountain and build a temple or shrine for her to practice in.

As for wandering the world? Impossible."

"What are you in such a rush for? Xuan'er normally never steps out of the inner chambers; how would she know about such things? I simply feel that if Xuan'er chooses not to marry, it might not necessarily be a bad thing.

As the common saying goes, marrying a husband means having clothes to wear and food to eat.

Thus, many commoner women marry primarily for food and clothing. But our daughter lacks neither food nor clothing. Since she is already free from material worries, why force the issue of marriage?

Princess Yunwu is childless and has been a widow for three years.

The Marquis of Qi's eldest daughter died in difficult childbirth.

If they didn't have to marry and could be as free as men, who knows how comfortable their lives would be.

The status of a Taoist or Buddhist nun is far freer than that of an unwed maiden, a housewife, or a widow. Wait... do Tang princesses love becoming nuns precisely because of this?"

Having experienced one daughter being scapegoated and tragically killed, and another nearly buried alive as a funerary sacrifice, Madam Meng's entire ideological outlook had shifted.

Seeing her daughter live happily was far more important than any superficial family honor.

However, the Duke of Shuguo clearly did not absorb much of this at the moment; his brows remained tightly furrowed, and his tone remained dissatisfied:

"You just cherry-pick all the unlucky examples. Aren't there plenty of harmonious families in the capital, blessed with children and grandchildren? Can't our third daughter find a husband who will love and cherish her for the rest of her life?"

"Heh, what kind of morals those nobles in the capital possess—don't you know, and don't I? Besides, even if His Majesty truly granted a marriage decree for our daughter, what kind of good match do you think he would bestow? If the man was originally unwilling to marry and was forcibly paired up through this decree, what kind of treatment would our daughter receive once she married into his household?

Could she possibly live a comfortable life?"

Madam Meng was clearly provoked by her husband's attitude, and her tone grew sharp and resentful:

"Love and cherish each other for the rest of her life, indeed!

Does our third daughter have such good fortune? You know full well what fate befell our eldest daughter, and our third daughter was nearly buried alive as a sacrifice without you lifting a finger to help. In the end, it was entirely thanks to that anonymous immortal who intervened and thoroughly abolished the practice of human sacrifice that she kept her life.

With that kind of luck, how can you expect me to believe she will find someone who will love her, give her a harmonious family, and grow old with her? Don't talk to me about things turning around after reaching an extreme."

"And what about our second girl? She came here crying again yesterday, saying her mother-in-law treats her poorly, imposes rigid rules on her, frantically forces concubines into her husband's chambers, and explicitly stated that whichever concubine manages to bear the eldest son first will be promoted to equal wife.

And what can I do about it?

Am I supposed to summon her mother-in-law here to lecture her?

Or storm into their estate and throw a tantrum?"

"I said long ago that with her temper, she would have been better off marrying downward—finding a scholar with ordinary family background, even a top-ranking graduate or top scholar would do. They wouldn't dare mistreat her for all the courage in the world, let alone subject her to strict household rules.

Instead, she insisted that since her elder sister married a prince, she absolutely had to marry a commandery prince or a duke's heir.

And so she married the Commandery Prince of Pinghe.

Now, as an ordinary Duchess, am I supposed to barge into the Pinghe Commandery Prince's estate and lord it over them?"

Nothing had been going smoothly lately.

So it was entirely natural for her to vent her grievances now.

"You... sigh..."

Though the words were harsh, the Duke of Shuguo truly had no way to refute them. After all, although his daughters appeared to have made prestigious matches—one marrying a prince, another a commandery prince—when it came to happiness, he genuinely had no grounds to boast.

He could only let out a long sigh and remain silent for a long time.

After a while, his tone softened somewhat:

"So, is this why you're somewhat inclined to support Xuan'er becoming a nun? Very well. She's still young anyway, and entering a monastery isn't a one-way street—returning to secular life is no trouble at all. If she truly wishes to become a nun, let her do so for two or three years.

At eighteen or nineteen, she won't be considered particularly old, and it won't be too late to return to secular life and find a husband then. Consider it a way to lie low and avoid the storm. Why don't you ask her later whether she wants to be a Taoist priestess or a Buddhist nun? Being a Buddhist nun while keeping her hair should pose no problem, but that's as far as it goes. Dreaming of wandering the world—she can forget about that unless I am dead."

Since the girl was still young, she could afford to waste two or three years, and in a few years, perhaps no one would remember this matter anymore, and her mindset might shift.

As for arguing aggressively and strictly forbidding it, there was no need. After all, his wife had already relented, and stubbornness on his part would serve little purpose. It would only damage his relationship with his daughter and strain the bond between husband and wife.

Madam Meng rolled her eyes at him:

"I'm not a fool; how could I possibly allow her to wander the world? At most, I'll let her stroll around the outskirts near the capital. Ah, children are truly debts we pay off in this lifetime. Let's sleep."

Since husband and wife had already reached a tacit understanding, there was naturally no need to discuss it further.

As an old married couple, they had no romantic matters to catch up on, so the two washed up and went to bed shortly thereafter.

Early the next morning, Madam Meng sought out her daughter and informed her that they, as parents, raised no principled objections. She then focused primarily on describing the various dangers one might encounter while wandering the world, successfully dispelling her daughter's notion of traveling, while treating the prospect of entering a monastery as a matter of indifference.

Mountain bandits and outlaws, child traffickers and kidnappers, torrential rain and natural disasters, wandering refugees and rebels—

Simply detailing any single one of these hazards was enough to terrify Meng Xuan, who had never stepped foot outside the capital. While these dangers were not an everyday occurrence, uncommon did not mean non-existent. When one didn't encounter them, all was well; the moment one did, the outcome was either a fate worse than death or a very gruesome demise.

Although somewhat reluctant, Meng Xuan ultimately had to abandon her original plan to wander the world. However, she was equally unwilling to practice asceticism while keeping her hair at home.

After all, how could staying at home be considered truly taking monastic vows?

Moreover, her original intention was to use monasticism to reduce gossip and negative impact on the family. If she remained cooped up at home after becoming a nun, what difference would it make from not becoming one at all?

In the end, she insisted on going to Yuhua Temple, where she officially became a Taoist priestess and simultaneously obtained an official monastic certificate through her parents' connections. Emperor Tianwu maintained relatively strict control over monastics, issuing only one thousand certificates annually, with not a single extra. Monastics without an official certificate were entirely unrecognized by the court and deemed illegal.

Once caught, exile was the bare minimum.

If they engaged in fraud or harmed others, death was certain.

However, since her father was a duke, while he might not be able to defy an imperial decree, smoothing over minor matters was effortless.

Obtaining a monastic certificate was precisely such a matter.

Ding Shui had spent nearly half a month busy within the synthetic storage space before finally emerging. As soon as she came out, she discovered her younger sister was gone, and after a round of investigation, she learned what had transpired.

Yet she had no particularly good solution for this.

After all, her own experience was limited to a two-dimensional husband, while the original owner's marriage had been a complete mess—what practical advice could she possibly offer?

In the end, she could only sneak over to Yuhua Temple in the middle of the night to examine her sister's memories and subconscious through a dream, needing first to understand whether her sister genuinely did not want to marry or if she was merely compromising due to familial pressure.

Shortly thereafter, Ding Shui discovered that her sister Meng Xuan truly did not wish to marry, at least not at present.

The reasons, naturally, were multifaceted.

Long before, back before the original owner was sentenced to death, Meng Xuan had already harbored a certain fear of marriage. This was because her second sister constantly returned home in tears, complaining about the hardships and suffering she endured in her in-laws' household, how she was bullied, and how her husband failed to support her.

With her second sister returning home in tears more than a dozen times a year over the course of two or three years of marriage, how could Meng Xuan not feel anxious?

However, caught up in adolescent naivety, and coupled with the fact that her originally betrothed fiancé constantly wrote sweet words and sent small gifts, Meng Xuan couldn't help but feel that her fiancé was different from her second sister's husband, and that perhaps her own life would be happier.

Then Meng Xuan was hit by two massive shocks. First, her eldest sister was made a scapegoat and executed, while she herself was given by Emperor Tianwu as a replacement wife to her former brother-in-law.

Moreover, that brother-in-law was utterly vile.

A beast, worse than a beast.

That was the first massive shock; after all, her second sister merely came home to vent, whereas her eldest sister lost her life entirely. The second massive shock was undoubtedly the attitude of her former fiancé and his family.

Though she understood she couldn't realistically expect her fiancé to defy an imperial decree and force a marriage—neither her fiancé nor her parents would dare or consent to such a thing—

Even if he had just shown his face and spoken a few words about circumstances being beyond his control,

Then bid her farewell with tears, she would have felt somewhat better.

She would have felt that they were tragic lovers torn apart by ruthless authority.

The reality, however, was that the moment the imperial decree for her marriage was issued, her fiancé never showed his face again. He simply had servants secretly return her betrothal particulars through the back door, and on the very next day, rushed into a hasty marriage with his maternal cousin.

He was terrified that any delay in cutting ties would lead to misunderstandings.

She could understand it, but she truly could not accept it.

Moreover, the fact that his cousin happened to be right there in his household, and that they could complete the wedding in such a short span of time, meant that a little imagination was all it took to guess how much melodramatic chaos would ensue if she had actually married in—perhaps the cousin was his true love all along.

This was immediately followed by the terrifying prospect of being buried alive as a funerary sacrifice.

With so many blows landing back-to-back, it was a testament to her resilience that she hadn't lost faith in life itself, let alone mere confidence in marriage. By the time the sacrificial crisis ended and Madam Meng repeatedly hit walls trying to find her a new match, Meng Xuan had dispatched people to investigate the inner quarters of noble households.

Naturally, good news never travels beyond the gate while bad news spreads a thousand li; who would go around boasting about how happy their closed doors were? But any scandal or misfortune spread like wildfire.

Consequently, what Meng Xuan actually gathered were tales of various sordid affairs and misfortunes within noble back courtyards, filtered through countless mouths, each more exaggerated and sensationalized than the last.

Having read and heard all this, her terror of marriage deepened further.

It was nothing short of a fiery pit!

Just like people in the future world constantly scrolling through news of domestic abuse, murder, or death in childbirth, breeding deep-seated fear and aversion.

Thus, Meng Xuan's genuine desire now was to become a Taoist nun—at least, that was her realistic aspiration. Deep down in her subconscious, however, she harbored another aspiration: she hoped to become a renowned nun, one whose name would be remembered in history.

Much like Wei Cunhua, Chen Jinggu, Lin Moniang...

It would be even better if she could freely wander the world.

Unfortunately, her subconscious dreams had been frightened away by the horrific tales told by her mother, Madam Meng.

She could only indulge in fantasies within her mind.

Who didn't have grandiose fantasies in their youth? Meng Xuan was barely sixteen by nominal age, a quintessential maiden.

Realizing all this, Ding Shui suddenly felt that her sister might make an excellent spokesperson. Originally, she had contemplated whether she should meet with her parents and hand over the useful organisms she had synthesized for them to cultivate and promote.

Now, though, her sister seemed equally suitable. She could simply treat this as supporting her sister's dream; with her assistance, achieving renown as a celebrated nun would undoubtedly be a breeze!

The very next second after making up her mind,

Ding Shui entered the dreamscape once more. This time, rather than secretly observing her sister's memories and subconscious, she directly awakened her sister within the dream to meet face-to-face.

"Elder Sister, have you forgiven me?"

Catching sight of Ding Shui's figure through the hazy mist, Meng Xuan instantly burst into tears, sobbing as she rushed toward Ding Shui and apologized:

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I shouldn't have written that letter to you, I'm a wretch..." Within moments, she was choked with sobs, unable to speak further, and simply used her illusory spirit to embrace Ding Shui's soul and wail aloud.

As mentioned earlier, she had regretted sending that letter almost immediately after having someone deliver it, but the Duke of Shuguo, fearing she might refuse to marry Prince Lu and do something foolish that would ruin the family, had kept her under strict confinement. By the time she regained her freedom and attempted to intercept the letter, it was already far too late.

Ever since, every time she recalled the matter, she felt profound regret.

On the night of the original owner's seventh day after death, she had dreamed of nothing when she slept, which made her feel even more convinced that her elder sister hated her and therefore refused to return and visit her on that night of return.

Suddenly seeing her sister again now,

she cared little whether this was a dream or reality; she only felt that her sister must have forgiven her, prompting her continuous apologies.

"Well, if I didn't forgive you, would I have saved you?"

Ding Shui was truly inept at emotional scenes, so she could only gently pat her third sister's back while speaking in a dry tone:

"I am the one who threatened Emperor Tianwu into abolishing human sacrifice. I just didn't dare reveal my identity for fear of implicating you all. I don't really know how to describe it; just assume I had a miraculous encounter and possess abilities akin to immortals.

Though there are quite a few limitations."

Hearing this, no matter how slow-witted Meng Xuan might be, she realized she was likely not dreaming—after all, when did dreams ever feel this specific? "Elder Sister, you're not dead?"

"What... what is going on here?"

Mid-sentence, she even pinched herself timidly, the sharp pain plunging her into deeper confusion. Everyone always said that when you pinch yourself in a dream, you feel no pain, but she could distinctly feel the sting, meaning this probably wasn't a dream.

Yet she didn't feel like she was in reality either!

Moreover, she should clearly be at the Taoist temple right now, but her surroundings were a vast expanse of pure white, looking bizarre no matter how she viewed it.

"I am truly dead; the miraculous encounter came after death. Also, this is your dream; I am meeting you in the form of a dream-entry. Alright, enough idle chatter. I know you wish to become a renowned nun, and I happen to have tasks that require your help. As long as you accomplish what I ask of you, achieving lasting fame in history is guaranteed, understand?"

Ding Shui directly and concisely cut straight to the point.