Venereal disease was the kind of thing that, once it reached the neck and face, could not be hidden no matter how hard one tried.
Good heavens, the Liang father and son, along with a fair, tender young concubine, had all contracted venereal disease.
How was anyone supposed to untangle that mess?
Liang Shijie might have been greedy, but all crows under heaven were black. Still, he had grown up reading the Four Books and Five Classics and was a filial son.
His intentions had been good. He went to speak with Old Master Liang about it, thinking that once they laid everything out in the open, it would pass.
It was only a concubine. If she was gone, he could marry another.
The father and son should clear the air, lest each of them stew over it and breed resentment in his heart.
It had been a fine idea.
But Liang Shijie had barely said two sentences and had not even reached the point before Old Master Liang became agitated. Pointing at the heavens, he swore, "I, Liang Youwen, have lived my life openly and honorably. How could I disregard human ethics? I am innocent!"
Liang Shijie did not even know how to respond. Seeing his father angered, he hurriedly said, "Father, I absolutely did not mean to doubt you. I merely..."
Merely what?
Even Liang Shijie did not know how to continue.
Merely ask?
Don't ask. If you asked, it meant you doubted him.
Yet not asking would not do either. Not asking also meant doubt.
Because there was an unsolvable knot here: where had Old Master Liang's venereal disease come from? Old Master Liang himself could not explain it clearly.
And when he could not explain it, it was enough to cost him his life.
Suspicion was