When Justice Cannot Be Served

That night, the Zhen Manor was silent, with only the occasional sound of patrolling guards' footsteps. Everything seemed as usual.

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

"Damn Bai Yan, you just wait! I'll get revenge on you someday!"

"I can't do anything to you now, but there's still a long way to go. I can wait. You'll slip up one day!"

"And that slut Ye Lingdang, I'll make you kneel before me and tremble sooner or later!"

In his room, Zhen Xiaoren lay on the bed, unable to move, staring at the ceiling and viciously cursing Bai Yan.

Bai Yan hadn't guessed wrong; Zhen Xiaoren was a venomous snake hiding in a gutter.

He wasn't Bai Yan's match currently, so he didn't dare retaliate. He could only grovel.

But he hid his hatred in his heart, waiting for a future opportunity.

Hatred was like poison; the longer it festered, the deeper its toxicity.

When the day of its eruption came, it would reveal its true terror.

Knock, knock, knock—

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door, and a slightly childish voice came from outside.

"Young Master, Madam made you some Ginseng Black Chicken Soup. Have a little, it's good for your health."

"Come in."

Zhen Xiaoren hadn't wanted to drink it. He was so angry at Bai Yan that he couldn't eat anything.

But his mother had made it, and he also wanted to recover quickly so he could go out and have fun. So, he put down his grievances and let the person in.

"Young Master, this Ginseng Black Chicken Soup smells so good."

The door opened, and a servant with a simple, honest face walked in.

He looked no older than fifteen or sixteen, his eyes still holding a trace of childish innocence. As he spoke, his gaze towards the chicken soup in the food container was full of longing, and a trace of un-wiped drool hung at the corner of his mouth.

Zhen Xiaoren glanced at him sideways, sneering with disdain:

"This is what Mother specially made for me, of course it smells good!"

"This bowl of chicken soup alone is worth a hundred years of your wages. You might never get to taste it in your lifetime!"

"Yes, yes, yes, Young Master has a noble status. How could a lowly servant like me compare to you?"

The young man shrank his neck, appearing to be receptive to the lesson, his voice filled with obvious fear.

"Hmph, it's good that you know!"

Zhen Xiaoren arrogantly tilted his chin:

"Hurry up and serve me. I want to drink it."

His arms had just been reset, and he didn't even have the strength to lift them. He needed a servant for everything, from eating and drinking to using the restroom.

The young man quickly picked up the soup bowl, scooped a spoonful, blew on it, and carefully brought it to Zhen Xiaoren's lips.

Zhen Xiaoren opened his mouth and drank. He found the chicken soup to be rich, delicious, and full of meaty aroma.

But as soon as he swallowed, he frowned:

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

The young man scratched his head with a look of innocent confusion:

"I don't know, Young Master. Perhaps Madam added some medicinal herbs. You are injured, after all."

"They say good medicine tastes bitter but is beneficial for healing. Young Master, drink it while it's hot."

Zhen Xiaoren pondered that it made sense. His mother always doted on him. To help him recover faster, adding some bitter medicinal herbs was perfectly normal. He didn't think about it further and urged the young man to continue feeding him.

In just a moment, the entire bowl of chicken soup was finished.

After drinking it, Zhen Xiaoren suddenly felt a wave of dizziness. The world began to spin, and his eyelids felt as heavy as lead, impossible to lift.

Immediately after, an icy chill shot straight to the crown of his head, instantly sobering him up a bit.

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

Zhen Xiaoren's face contorted in horror, his eyes filled with disbelief and fear.

He had figured it out. This seemingly honest servant had drugged him!

At that moment, Zhen Xiaoren wanted to cry out for help, but before he could make a sound, the young man clamped a hand over his mouth, holding him down firmly, preventing him from making any noise.

Zhen Xiaoren's limbs were already immobile, and after drinking the soup, his entire body felt as weak as mud. He couldn't break free from the servant's grip at all.

He could only watch as the young servant's youthful innocence and confusion faded, replaced by a face as cold as frost.

His eyes churned with undisguised murderous intent, his gaze sharp and chilling, making Zhen Xiaoren's scalp tingle and his body feel as if it had plunged into an ice cellar.

"Mmm... mmm... mmm...!!"

Zhen Xiaoren's voice was trapped in his throat, only muffled whimpers escaping. His eyes were full of pleading and terror.

The young man, however, acted as if he saw nothing, his face devoid of any expression. He clamped one hand tightly over Zhen Xiaoren's mouth while the other pulled a dagger from his bosom. With a flash of cold light, a thwack sounded as the blade precisely pierced Zhen Xiaoren's chest.

This was clearly the young man's first kill. The hand holding the knife trembled slightly, yet the entire process was carried out without the slightest hesitation—clean, swift, and decisive, as if he had rehearsed it countless times in his mind.

"Urk!!"

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

After a few violent twitches, Zhen Xiaoren's eyes completely lost their luster, and he was still.

He couldn't comprehend even in death that he would die at the hands of a peasant he had always disdained.

The young man only released his grip after Zhen Xiaoren had completely stopped breathing.

Expressionless, he covered Zhen Xiaoren with the blanket, wiped the dagger clean, and put it back into his embrace. Then, he picked up the empty bowl and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. Throughout the entire process, he showed no signs of anything suspicious.

From beginning to end, his face was calm, as if everything that had just happened was merely an illusion.

Stepping out of the room, the young man scratched his head and said to the two guards at the door with a simple, honest smile:

"Young Master has already gone to sleep. You two shouldn't make any noise, or I'll be blamed if I disturb him."

The two guards replied impatiently:

"Get lost. Do I need you to tell me how to do my job?"

Although they were guards, they possessed martial prowess and looked down on a mere servant who only served tea and water.

The young man flinched, his face full of fear, and turned to leave.

Returning to the kitchen, the young man informed the kitchen manager that there was a family matter and, after receiving permission to leave the estate, he departed from the Zhen residence.

The young man disappeared into the dark night. He walked slowly at first, then quickened his pace, and finally broke into a run.

He ran to a secluded spot by a small river, knelt on the ground, and let out suppressed sobs, which then turned into loud wails, the sound tearing at his heart.

After crying for a long time, he suddenly burst into laughter, a mad, frenzied laugh, as if possessed.

"Retribution! Retribution! This is all retribution!"

"Sister, I've finally avenged you!"

"Hahahaha!"

The young man cried and laughed, tears mixing with the muddy water on his face, making it impossible to tell if it was sorrow or relief.

Time passed to the next morning. A young servant carried breakfast to Zhen Xiaoren's room.

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

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

The servant felt a sense of unease. He called out a few more times tentatively, but still no answer. Helpless, he had to ask the guards at the door to open the room.

As soon as the servant entered the room, he saw Zhen Xiaoren on the bed, his eyes wide open, his face ashen, and his breath long gone.

"Ah—!"

The servant was so terrified he nearly lost his soul. The food box in his hands overturned and fell to the ground. He scrambled out of the room, shouting wildly as he went:

"Someone's dead! The Young Master has been murdered! The Young Master has been murdered!"