Just as the old madam entered the kitchen, Chen Lin was raising a hand as large as a cattail fan, about to bring it down on Chen Wanyue's face.
'This will not do!'
Mr. Li might be coming to meet Wanyue any day now. If she showed up with a bruised and swollen face, it wouldn't just be her own disgrace; they, the elders, would lose face as well.
They had come so far; this was the final step. If her looks were ruined, earning Mr. Li's disapproval and wrecking the marriage, this girl was capable of flying into a rage and grabbing a knife to attack someone.
The old madam shouted until her voice cracked, her heart leaping into her throat with anxiety.
"Stop him! Mrs. Li, you have to stop him!"
Even without the old madam's cry, Mrs. Li had already turned and pulled Chen Wanyue's head into her arms.
The hand came whistling down. With a pained "AH!", Mrs. Li's neatly coiled bun was struck apart, and the lotus-carved wooden hairpin in it went flying out of sight.
