When Justice Cannot Be Served

Chapter 26: When Justice Cannot Be Served

That night, the Zhen residence was utterly silent. Only the occasional footsteps of the guards making their rounds could be heard. Everything seemed no different from usual.

After several days of careful treatment, Zhen Xiaoren's hands and feet had been set, but he would need at least two months of bed rest to recover fully.

"Damn Bai Yan! Just you wait! This young master will get his revenge one day!"

"I can't do anything to you right now, but there are still plenty of days ahead. I can afford to wait. One day, you'll stumble!"

"And that slut Ye Lingdang too! Sooner or later, I'll make you kneel at this young master's feet and tremble!"

Inside the room, Zhen Xiaoren lay on the bed, unable to move. He stared at the ceiling and viciously cursed Bai Yan.

Bai Yan had guessed correctly. Zhen Xiaoren was indeed a poisonous snake lurking in a filthy ditch.

At present, he was no match for Bai Yan, so he did not dare seek revenge and could only wag his tail and beg for mercy.

But he had hidden his hatred in his heart, waiting for the day to come.

Hatred was like poison—the longer it lingered, the more potent it became.

When it finally erupted, its true terror would be revealed.

Knock, knock, knock—

Suddenly, a knock sounded at the door, followed by a somewhat childish voice from outside.

"Young master, Madam made you ginseng and black-bone chicken soup. Have some. It'll do your body good."

"Come in."

Zhen Xiaoren had not wanted to drink it at first. He was so enraged by Bai Yan that he could not stomach anything.

But it had been prepared by his mother, and he also wanted to recover soon so he could go out and enjoy himself. Thus, he allowed the servant to enter.

"Young master, this ginseng and black-bone chicken soup smells wonderful."

The door opened, and a simple-looking servant came in.

He appeared to be only fifteen or sixteen years old. His eyes still held a trace of childish innocence, and when he spoke, his gaze remained fixed on the chicken soup in the food box, filled with longing. A trace of drool even hung from the corner of his mouth.

Zhen Xiaoren cast him a sidelong glance and sneered with utter disdain:

"This was specially prepared for this young master by my mother. Of course it smells good!"

"A single bowl of this chicken soup is worth a hundred years of your wages. You might not even get to taste a sip of it in your entire life!"

"Yes, yes, yes. The young master has a noble status. How could a lowly servant like me compare with you?"

The boy shrank his neck, looking properly chastened, and his voice held obvious fear.

"Hmph, as long as you know your place!"

Zhen Xiaoren lifted his chin imperiously:

"What are you waiting for? Hurry up and serve this young master his soup."

His arms had only just been set, and he did not even have the strength to lift them. He had to rely on servants for eating, drinking, and even his most basic bodily needs.

The boy hurriedly picked up the bowl, scooped up a spoonful, blew on it, and cautiously brought it to Zhen Xiaoren's lips.

Zhen Xiaoren opened his mouth and drank. The soup was rich and savory, filled with the fragrant aroma of meat.

But as soon as he swallowed, he frowned:

"This soup... why does it taste a little bitter?"

The boy scratched his head with an innocent look:

"I'm not sure either. Perhaps Madam added some medicinal supplements. You are injured, after all, young master."

"They say good medicine tastes bitter but helps the illness. You should drink it while it's hot."

Zhen Xiaoren considered it and found it reasonable. His mother had always doted on him, so adding some bitter medicine to help him recover faster was perfectly normal. He thought no more of it and urged the boy to continue feeding him.

In no time, the full bowl of chicken soup was empty.

After drinking it, Zhen Xiaoren suddenly felt dizzy. The world before his eyes began spinning, and his eyelids grew as heavy as if they had been filled with lead. No matter how hard he tried, he could not lift them.

Then, a bone-chilling cold shot straight to the crown of his head, jolting him partly awake.

"You... what... what did you put in the chicken soup?"

Horror spread across Zhen Xiaoren's face, and his eyes were filled with incredulous fear.

He understood now. This seemingly simple and honest servant had drugged him!

Zhen Xiaoren immediately tried to shout for help, but before he could make a sound, the boy clamped a hand over his mouth and held it down hard, preventing even the slightest noise.

Zhen Xiaoren's limbs had already been immobile. Now that he had drunk the drug, his entire body was even softer than mud. How could he possibly break free from the servant's grip?

All he could do was watch helplessly as the young servant's youthful innocence and bewilderment faded from his face, leaving behind only a frost-cold expression.

Unconcealed killing intent churned in those eyes, their cold gleam sharp and icy. Zhen Xiaoren's scalp prickled, and his whole body felt as though it had fallen into an ice cavern.

"Mmph... mmph... mmph...!!"

Zhen Xiaoren's voice was trapped in his throat. He could only produce muffled whimpers, his eyes overflowing with pleading and fear.

But the boy paid no attention. His face held no expression. One hand clamped firmly over Zhen Xiaoren's mouth, while the other drew a dagger from his robes. A flash of cold light—then, with a wet pfft, it plunged precisely into Zhen Xiaoren's chest.

This was clearly the boy's first time killing someone. The hand gripping the dagger trembled slightly, yet he showed not the slightest hesitation. The entire process was clean, swift, and decisive, as if he had rehearsed it millions of times in his mind.

"Urk!!"

Zhen Xiaoren's eyes bulged wide, filled with terror and unwillingness.

After his body convulsed violently several times, all light vanished from Zhen Xiaoren's eyes, and he lay utterly still.

To his dying breath, he could not understand how he had ended up dying at the hands of a common laborer he had always despised.

The boy waited until Zhen Xiaoren had breathed his last before releasing him.

Expressionless, he pulled the quilt over Zhen Xiaoren, wiped the dagger clean, and put it back inside his robes. Then he picked up the empty bowl and left the room, closing the door behind him. Throughout the entire process, he showed not the slightest suspicious sign.

His expression remained calm from beginning to end, as though everything that had just happened had been nothing more than an illusion.

After leaving the room, the boy scratched his head and gave the two guards at the door an honest grin.

"The young master is already asleep. Don't make any noise, you two. If you disturb him, he'll blame me."

The two guards replied impatiently:

"Beat it! Do you think this old man needs you to teach him how to do his job?"

Though they were guards, they possessed martial strength and looked down on a mere servant who carried tea and poured water.

The boy shrank his neck, his face full of fear, and turned to leave.

When he returned to the kitchen, the boy told the kitchen steward that something had come up at home. After receiving permission to leave the residence, he departed the Zhen residence.

The boy vanished into the darkness of night. At first he walked slowly, then quickly, and finally broke into a full sprint.

When he reached a secluded stretch of river, the boy fell to his knees. First came suppressed sobs, then loud wails, the sound tearing through his heart and soul.

After crying for a long while, he suddenly began laughing loudly. His laughter was wild and deranged, like a mad demon.

"Retribution! Retribution! This is all retribution!"

"Sister, I finally avenged you!"

"Hahahaha!"

The boy laughed and cried at once, tears mingling with muddy water as they streamed down his face. It was impossible to tell whether he was grieving or liberated.

The next morning, a young servant carried breakfast to Zhen Xiaoren's door.

"Young master, young master, are you awake? It's time for breakfast."

He knocked on the door, but there was no response from inside.

Unease stirred in the young servant's heart. He tentatively called out several more times, but still received no answer. With no other choice, he asked the guards outside to open the door.

The moment the young servant stepped inside, he saw Zhen Xiaoren lying on the bed with his eyes wide open and his face gray-green. He had long since stopped breathing.

"Ah—!"

The young servant was scared out of his wits. He dropped the food box, then scrambled and crawled out of the room, shouting wildly all the way:

"Someone's dead! The young master was murdered! The young master was murdered!"