My Female General Is A Villain (GL) - Chapter 2

In that instant, He Jiaojiao understood.

The original Jiaojiao had blamed Pei Ji for everything especially the fact that she couldn’t grow old hand-in-hand with the Crown Prince. Naturally, all her resentment was directed at her.

Within the entire General’s Manor, no one treated Pei Ji with the least bit of respect. Even the lowest-ranked servants and maids could order her around with arrogance, and the one who had allowed this state of affairs to take root was none other than Jiaojiao herself.

The more miserable Pei Ji was, the more delighted Jiaojiao felt.

A child unloved in her own country, only to be humiliated again in a foreign land. Anyone would turn dark under such treatment.

*******

He Jiaojiao sighed quietly. After dressing with Qingyao’s help, she stepped out into the courtyard.

Pei Ji wore only a thin layer of clothing that clung to her frail frame. The cold wind whipped across her face, making her look as though she were made of paper, ready to crumble at any moment.

Her hands were red and stiff, cracked with frostbitten splits where the bl00d had frozen into a faint layer of ice. She gripped the broom tighter, pausing only to breathe warmth into her palms before resuming.

Since winter began, she hadn’t been allowed to eat until she cleared every flake of snow in this yard. Miss the mealtime, and she would simply go hungry until the next.

Pei Ji’s bloodless lips pressed together as she hunched into herself.

This winter was unbearably cold, far harsher than any before.

Each breath of frigid air seared her throat raw, yet she didn’t stop sweeping. Soon, just a little longer, it would be done.

Suddenly, pain shot from the crown of her head, followed by an icy shock that pierced to the bone. Snow poured down her face, sliding into her already shivering body.

Pei Ji furrowed her brows but forced herself to endure, raising her head to meet the mocking grin of a servant boy. Her face was without emotions and she said nothing.

She never argued with them, only met their eyes with an icy stare until they grew uneasy.

The two boys, however, seemed to take joy in tormenting her. Their words dripped with scorn.

“Well, well, you’re fast today. Must be a natural at sweeping the snow.”

“Don’t joke. He’s still the Second Miss’s husband, at least in name. Not really our place to comment.”

“Husband? That’s just a title to sound nice. His status is lower than ours. The unhappier he is, the more Second Miss smiles and when she smiles, we get our share of rewards.”

“If he had moved faster back then, Second Miss wouldn’t still be lying unconscious. Honestly, they should starve him as punishment. Let him pay for it.”

With a smirk, one of the boys stooped to pack another snowball that was big and hard, and hurled it squarely at the back of Pei Ji’s head.

The loud thud was followed by laughter. They clapped their hands clean and walked away, not realizing that He Jiaojiao had just arrived in time to hear it all.

Pei Ji brushed the snow from her shoulders, her dry lips cracked and dark against her pale skin.

Her eyes narrowed, and for a fleeting second, cold killing intent flickered in their depths as she watched the two boys’ retreating figures.

He Jiaojiao caught that look and shivered. Truly, a great villain with just one glance from her could freeze the soul.

But then Pei Ji seemed to sense she was being watched. In a blink, the murderous gleam vanished, replaced by a calm, clear gaze that held only gentleness. She turned toward Jiaojiao.

Today, Jiaojiao wore no fine adornments. Her hair hung loose, unstyled, and her plain dress lacked embellishment. Yet somehow, she looked far more natural and easy on the eyes.

“Second Miss, don’t worry. I wasn’t being lazy,” Pei Ji lowered her lashes and spoke lightly before resuming her work.

Jiaojiao didn’t answer. She only watched the frail yet striking figure before her.

The dream replayed itself in her mind that vivid vision the system had told her was the original’s final moment.

She would die at this person’s hands. Not only her, but the entire General’s Manor… and even the whole of Great Jing would be destroyed by Pei Ji.

How terrifying a fate was that?

Yet now, looking at her this child with nothing but a thin layer of cotton to shield her from the biting cold, it all seemed too unreal.

In the modern world, a child her age would be the apple of her parents’ eye. How could they possibly let her suffer like this?

“Miss, the clothes you asked for.” Qingyao came running, handing her a thick robe and look puzzled. Her mistress was already warmly dressed, why would she ask for another one?

Jiaojiao weighed the garment in her hands. It was indeed warm.

She crossed the snow to Pei Ji and held it out, her tone soft. “It’s freezing. You’re dressed too thinly. If you fall ill, the blame will fall on this manor.”

Snowflakes drifted between them, feather-light, painting the air white.

Pei Ji’s lashes trembled. At the sound of that voice, she slowly looked up, confusion flickering across her eyes.

The words sounded like a rebuke, but from Jiaojiao’s lips they carried an odd note of concern.

Qingyao was stunned, her pupils wide. The entire household knew her mistress treated servants with cold disdain. When had she ever shown kindness least of all to the Second Son-in-law she despised?

What was going on?

Pei Ji asked softly, “What does Second Miss mean by this?”

Jiaojiao hadn’t expected such a guarded reaction. Pei Ji’s eyes brimmed with wariness, even faint contempt, as if bracing for humiliation.

Of course. The original Jiaojiao had always toyed with her, like kicking at a stray dog and sometimes mocking for fun, sometimes beating her when in a foul mood.

No wonder Pei Ji thought this was just another act of cruelty, meant to mock her pride.

Who wouldn’t think so? Someone who had only ever been harsh suddenly showing kindness. It was as likely as the sun rising in the west.

Jiaojiao cursed the original “He Jiaojiao” fiercely in her heart. Of all people to provoke, she had chosen the one destined to become a monster with cheat-like power.

How was she supposed to turn the tide now?

Pei Ji glanced at her, at the small pink face turned aside, lips pursed in a faint pout.

The light caught her hair, her lashes trembling, the delicate bridge of her nose touched with red.

It was a picture of fragile beauty, almost like a painting.

Jiaojiao caught herself and said, “Believe me or not, but I mean no harm.”

She nodded at Qingyao to set the robe neatly on the stone table, then lifted her skirts carefully and walked away at an unhurried pace.

These ancient gowns were beautiful, but so cumbersome. One wrong step and she’d trip and make a fool of herself.

Pei Ji watched her swaying figure disappear around the corner of the covered walkway, dazed.

Lowering her gaze, she brushed her fingers over the soft robe.

Had the woman really lost her mind? Her behavior was nothing short of bizarre.

********

According to Qingyao, during the days she had been unconscious, her mother had worried herself sick and was eating little, sleeping poorly and worn with fear.

Though the imperial physicians had assured her daughter would be fine, her heart had not been at ease.

Soon, Jiaojiao reached her mother’s quarters.

Inside, Madam Chu Huajun was seated, clumsily stitching a small red charm pouch. Her hands clearly weren’t used to needlework.

Jiaojiao remembered now. Her mother had been a general on the battlefield, just as her grandmother before her.

Their children had grown up basking in the glory of their elders, living lives of ease.

A battle-hardened hero, now sitting here fumbling with embroidery. Jiaojiao couldn’t help but think how much the original girl had been spoiled.

She herself had grown up in a different world. After her parents divorced and started new families, she had been cast aside. Even asking for tuition money was treated as a burden.

It had been her grandmother who raised her, working herself to the bone, only to pass away when Jiaojiao was still in high school.

She had even arranged the funeral herself at the age of eighteen, while her parents hurried off after a brief appearance, claiming they were too busy to stay.

From that day on, she had almost completely severed ties with them. Even when juggling school and three or four part-time jobs at once, she had never once asked them for help.

Jiaojiao shook herself free of the memories and stepped inside.

“Second Miss,” her mother’s maid, Zhuyin, greeted with a bow.

Chu Huajun looked up at once, joy flashing across her face. “Jiaojiao! You’re awake? Let me see you.”

She rushed over, fussing, checking her daughter head to toe.

Jiaojiao met those eyes filled with raw worry. For some reason, her chest tightened. She had never met this gentle-faced woman before, and yet…

Awkwardly, she said, “Mother, I’m fine.”

“No lingering pain? No weakness? We can’t let this leave a lasting illness. Zhuyin, fetch the chicken soup I asked the kitchen to prepare.” Still gripping Jiaojiao’s hand, Chu Huajun barked the order without turning her head.

Jiaojiao smiled, her dimples deepening. “See? I’m perfectly well.”

Her mother pulled her to sit, then produced the pouch she had been stitching. It was small and uneven, but clearly made with care.

“While you were unconscious, I went to the temple every day to pray. The abbot said if I placed blessed earth inside an embroidered pouch, the gods might grant my wish. I never believed such things, but for you… I had to try. My stitches are poor, but it’s made with sincerity.”

Jiaojiao looked at the little red pouch, its crooked needlework marked with a single large “Jiao.”

“As long as you made it, I’ll love it.” She wasn’t one for acting spoiled, but now she tugged at her mother’s sleeve with childlike playfulness. “Mother, put it on me.”

“You sweet talker. Like you’ve dipped your tongue in honey.”

Her mother looped the string around her slender neck, gently sweeping her dark hair aside to tuck the pouch against her chest, then smoothed her clothing with tender hands.

“But Jiaojiao, your temper needs work. You can’t be brawling with your third sister like that. It’s unbecoming of a young lady.”

There were three sons and three daughters in the manor. The eldest son, second son, and Jiaojiao herself were Chu Huajun’s children. The third son and daughter were born of Concubine Yuan, while the eldest daughter had lost her mother to childbirth.

According to the system, this third sister, He Yushu, was a classic manipulative green tea and always scheming against Jiaojiao While Jiaojiao, brainless as she was, had fallen for it every time. Her fall into the lake was certainly no accident.

Chu Huajun sighed. “She’s kneeling in the ancestral hall right now. This time, your grandmother is truly angry.”

Serves her right, Jiaojiao thought. Let her kneel.

The old madam doted on Jiaojiao, and Yushu had been foolish enough to provoke her, thinking her usual flattery would shield her. It was laughable.

Jiaojiao moved closer to the brazier, savoring the warmth, lips pressed together in silence.

“Go see your grandmother. Ease her worry. Then perhaps your sister won’t suffer too much.”

When Jiaojiao didn’t respond, her mother added, “Your grandmother treasures you most of all. Seeing you well will soften her heart.”

“I understand, Mother.”

Chu Huajun blinked in surprised. She had expected resistance because her daughter was never this easy to persuade.

“Why so obedient all of a sudden? You’re not tricking me, are you?”

Jiaojiao stretched out her hands, breath steaming in the cold air. “Where’s my chicken soup?”