Chapter 46: The Rebirth of the Illegitimate Daughter, Part 6

After returning home, Mu Yin painted the heroine’s portrait using meticulous brushwork. It was only after coming to this world that she discovered traditional Chinese painting actually included realistic techniques; she had thought all of it was impressionistic, where the spirit could be discerned but not the face. Clearly, she had been ignorant.

A few days later, Mu Yin received news from Chunfen about the male lead’s fiancée. She was surprised to find that this daughter of a general’s household was a frail, sickly premature child who rarely appeared in public. The male lead’s martial arts teacher was the marquis himself; they had known each other since childhood, grown close, and later he had proposed marriage.

From the information, it seemed the Fifth Prince and his fiancée were childhood sweethearts. Perhaps she should make time to meet this young lady—or perhaps not. All she really needed was to find a way to deliver the first-level body technique training method to her.

Since the young lady almost never left her home, Mu Yin had no way to approach her directly. But she quickly noticed that, because of her poor health, the young lady often summoned imperial physicians. Lately, her condition had worsened so much that notices had been posted seeking skilled doctors.

This was clearly an opportunity. In recent years, Mu Yin had adopted several people, training them in knowledge and skills according to their talents as described in the novel. Most were orphans, but some were elderly and alone.

Among them was an elderly doctor with considerable skill. Mu Yin gave them the first level of the body technique, and the old man had practiced along with it, improving his own health. Now, he could be sent to try his hand.

Thus, Doctor Yang accepted the task, took his apprentice, and tore down the notice before being welcomed into the marquis’s residence. His diagnosis was that Miss Liu suffered from congenital weakness. In modern times, such cases could recover with proper nourishment and moderate exercise. But in this ancient era, even in a military household, the frail daughter had not been allowed to train in martial arts. Instead, she had been kept in seclusion and fed overly refined foods, so she grew ever weaker.

It wasn’t an especially serious condition. With plenty of food and body training, in two years she could recover to something like suboptimal health. Once Mu Yin understood the situation, she let Doctor Yang proceed as he saw fit.

Having solved a troublesome issue, Mu Yin relaxed and turned her focus to her own affairs. As for marriage, she managed to evade the topic for another year. By the time she was thirteen, both her elder sisters had married, leaving her as the eldest at home.

“Twelve, is there no one you fancy?” Madam Zhang called out to Mu Yin just as she was about to take her leave after paying respects.

“Um, Mother, your daughter is still young. There’s no rush,” Mu Yin replied awkwardly. She truly hadn’t found anyone appealing—after all, to her, these were all just young boys, and she didn’t consider herself a deviant.

“How can you not be in a hurry? In two years you’ll come of age, and by then all the best prospects will have been taken,” Madam Zhang objected.

“Maybe I just haven’t met the right person yet,” Mu Yin said with a smile.

“Fine, I’ll leave you be,” Madam Zhang waved her hand, exasperated by her daughter’s stubbornness.

“Your daughter takes her leave,” Mu Yin said, quickly making her escape.

Honestly, she had seen people in their twenties or thirties being pressured into marriage, but to be pushed at thirteen was truly enough. Ancient times were certainly no place for women. Mu Yin’s refusal to marry wasn’t out of some obsession with purity or the desire for a lifelong commitment to a single person.

If she were to stay in this world long-term for her missions, she wouldn’t insist on always leaving after a short while. In that case, she wouldn’t mind a romance or finding a partner. But in this ancient world, she was reluctant—mainly because here, men took multiple wives and concubines.

Granted, her experience told her it was one wife and several concubines, not three wives and four concubines, but still, she couldn’t accept it. She didn’t mind a husband who had a past before her, but sharing him with other women afterward was something she simply couldn’t tolerate.

Yet, such views were shockingly unconventional in this era. Even if some men could remain faithful, they wouldn’t, as it would be seen as being henpecked. Even if the couple were in love, there was always the worry of a meddling mother-in-law. So, being single seemed best.

Another year passed, and Mu Yin was now fourteen. This year, the Emperor finally gave in to the ministers and established a Crown Prince—the legitimate Fourth Prince. The Fourth Prince was a natural choice: competent, of legitimate birth, and his mother’s family, though low-ranking and of humble origins, was married into one of the four great families. The Empress’s guidance had made him outstanding, and Miss Liu’s health had improved greatly; she no longer looked like she was on the brink of death as she had the year before.

This year, she even went out on spring outings with the Fifth Prince. Mu Yin made a point to observe her and found that Miss Liu resembled the heroine greatly—or perhaps it was the other way around. No wonder the Fifth Prince had suddenly chosen to help her, a mere official’s illegitimate daughter.

Judging by appearances, Mu Yin’s tasks were nearly done. Watching the heroine keeping close company with a certain young official, she felt quite satisfied. Once the two were married, she planned to find a way to leave this world. Her indulgent father had already given her an ultimatum: if she didn’t choose someone this year, he would pick a husband for her.

She had to finish her mission and see if she could leave. If not, she would have to find another solution—either feign her death or marry someone easily controlled. Hiding in a corner at the spring outing, munching on snacks, Mu Yin pondered these things.

“Twelfth Miss of the Liu family, greetings.” Just as she was eating contentedly, a pleasant male voice startled her. Mu Yin nearly choked, hastily took a sip of milk tea, and looked up to see a tall figure standing before her, backlit by the sun.

She quickly stood, finally recognizing the visitor. Wasn’t this the young master of the Liu family? “Young Master Liu, is there something you need?” Mu Yin recalled she had never interacted with him before.

“I wish to give this to you,” Liu Ling said, presenting a red card.

“For me?!” Mu Yin was surprised. In this world, a red card was a token of a man’s affection—a declaration of interest.

But she didn’t know this young master well at all. Why had he suddenly confessed to her?

“I saw you two years ago and wanted to get to know you then. But something came up, and I had to leave the capital. I have just returned,” Liu Ling explained.

“Ah, I’m sorry, but I must refuse,” Mu Yin replied, recalling that he had gone off to war two years ago and only returned this year when the fighting ceased.