The Thirteenth Chapter

It was early March when I saw Mama Sun again.

Willow branches were budding, apricot blossoms adorned the trees, and even the wind carried a hint of spring.

But Mama Sun had aged considerably. Not only were her cheeks sunken from thinness, but more than half of her hair had turned white.

"It's been a long time, young lady. Are you well?" Today, Mama Sun hadn't arrived in a Zhao Manor carriage; she had walked.

"Everything is fine. Mama Sun, please come in and rest." A Chan invited Mama Sun inside.

Mama Sun shook her head, standing outside. "I won't come in. I came today to tell you, young lady, that Madam's body has been brought back to the manor. Tomorrow, the manor will set up a mourning hall, and the day after tomorrow is the funeral."

A Chan understood. More than ten days had passed, and the case must have concluded. She just didn't know... what the final outcome was?

"Alright, I will be there," A Chan replied.

The next day, A Chan woke up early.

She changed into a plain white jacket and skirt and picked a white silk flower hairpin from the wooden box. Her slender fingers brushed over the still-shining gold ornaments inside, and she sighed softly.

Near the end of Chen time, A Chan arrived at the gates of Zhao Manor. The lanterns at the entrance had been replaced with white ones, bearing two large characters for "Mourning."

The servants at Zhao Manor saw A Chan, bowed, and led the way for her.

As soon as she entered the mourning hall, A Chan saw the black coffin placed in the center. The coffin lid was closed, and Lady Xiao Lin lay inside.

On the offering table in front were Lady Xiao Lin's spirit tablet and various offerings.

Seeing Zhao Wenyue, dressed in mourning clothes, in the mourning hall, A Chan wasn't too surprised. Just as she had guessed, the Mingjing Division likely couldn't find concrete evidence, and Zhao Wenyue had been released.

What truly surprised A Chan was that besides Zhao Wenyue, there was a boy who looked only seven or eight years old, also wearing mourning clothes.

What's more, that boy was kneeling before Zhao Wenyue, seemingly taking the place of the eldest son, Zhao Wensheng.

Only children wear heavy mourning for their parents. When did Lady Xiao Lin gain another son?

A Chan calmly walked into the mourning hall and offered three incense sticks to Lady Xiao Lin. Afterward, the mourning son and daughter bowed in return.

After receiving their bow, she spoke to Zhao Wenyue, "Cousin, please accept my condolences."

Zhao Wenyue only looked up when she heard her voice. Seeing it was A Chan, hatred almost erupted from her eyes. "It's you, you bitch!"

She had been locked up in the Mingjing Division for a full ten days, in the Town Prison, without seeing daylight. It was cold and terrifying. Day and night, she heard wails and screams, unable to close her eyes.

Fortunately, the stall owner who sold her the hairpin died unexpectedly. The Mingjing Division couldn't pin the crime on her then. Her father had found ways and enlisted help to finally get her released.

After she came out, she heard from her father that Mama Sun and her mother's personal maid had never mentioned the jade hairpin. This matter had clearly been revealed to the Mingjing Division by Ji Chan.

If it weren't for her, how could she have suffered so much!

Just as Zhao Wenyue was about to stand up, the boy beside her quickly grabbed her sleeve. The boy looked up, his clear black and white eyes not showing the innocence of a young child.

He said to Zhao Wenyue, "This is Mother's mourning hall. Older Sister is observing mourning. It's best not to move around recklessly, lest you offend Mother."

Zhao Wenyue flung the boy's hand away and said coldly, "What are you? Do you really think Father agreed to let you observe mourning for my brother, and you can be adopted under my mother's name? Dream on!"

The boy's voice was clear, "Older Sister worries too much. Wenqi doesn't think that way."

However, the boy's words at least stopped Zhao Wenyue from doing anything more out of line.

Seeing that A Chan remained silent, as if frightened, the boy even spoke to comfort her. "Please forgive me, Cousin. Older Sister is just too heartbroken by Mother's death and doesn't mean to target you."

He called her Cousin right away and spoke as if he were the master of this household. A Chan thought that the Zhao family seemed to have undergone significant changes again these past few days.

"Who are you?" A Chan asked, her tone confused.

"My name is Zhao Wenqi. I am a distant relative of the Zhao family. After my parents passed away, my grandparents adopted me. I heard Madam passed away unexpectedly, so I came to the capital with my grandparents," Zhao Wenqi introduced himself clearly, explaining his background thoroughly.

"So that's how it is. Greetings, Cousin Wenqi." A Chan exchanged pleasantries with him.

Seeing A Chan's reaction, Zhao Wenqi secretly breathed a sigh of relief and added, "There are quite a few guests paying their respects today. If there's any neglect, please forgive me, Cousin."

"You're too kind, Cousin."

After speaking, Zhao Wenqi called for the servants waiting outside and instructed them to take A Chan to the side hall to rest.

Compared to Zhao Wenyue, he seemed more sensible.

A Chan didn't stay in the mourning hall any longer and left with the servant.

Under normal circumstances, guests paying their respects would not be kept for long by the hosts. However, A Chan was considered a relative of the Zhao family, which was why she was asked to stay.

There were only four or five people in the side hall at this moment. Judging by their familiar demeanor, they should all be relatives of the Zhao family. After all, apart from A Chan, Lady Xiao Lin's relatives were currently on their way to exile.

Sitting in the main seat in the side hall was an old woman with half-white hair. Although she was dressed luxuriously, her manners were somewhat crude. She should be Zhao Ming's mother, Lady Xiao Lin's mother-in-law.

Old Madam Zhao saw A Chan walk in, stopped talking to the relatives beside her, turned to look at her, and asked, "Whose family are you from? I haven't seen you before."

A Chan curtsied to her. "Greetings, Old Madam. My name is Ji Chan. I am my aunt's niece."

"So it's you." Old Madam Zhao must have heard about Ji Chan from someone. The look she gave her carried a hint of disdain. But she didn't say much, merely asking the question before looking away.

Old Madam Zhao's likes and dislikes were very obvious. Since she ignored A Chan, the other Zhao family relatives naturally did not pay attention to her either.

A Chan sat alone in a corner, ate two pieces of pastry, and sat quietly, listening to the conversations around her. It was quite comfortable.

About an hour and a half later, the long-absent master, Zhao Ming, arrived with Zhao Wenqi and Zhao Wenyue.

Zhao Ming entered the side hall, first paid his respects to his mother sitting in the main seat, and then greeted the other relatives.

Zhao Wenyue behind him had a perfunctory attitude. Even when greeting her own grandmother, her expression was very indifferent. Old Madam Zhao didn't look too pleased either, seemingly not fond of this granddaughter.

Instead, upon seeing Zhao Wenqi, the old madam's face lit up with a smile. She quickly beckoned him over, "Wenqi, hurry over to Grandma."

Zhao Wenqi came to Old Madam Zhao's side and said, "Grandma."

"Oh, my good grandson." As she spoke, she tenderly rubbed his knees, "You've been kneeling for so long, does your leg hurt?"

"Don't worry, Grandma, it doesn't hurt," Zhao Wenqi comforted Old Madam Zhao.

"How could it not hurt? It's a pity that you, a half-grown child, have to kneel for so long. It's not like it's your own mother."

"It's what Wenqi should do."

If it were an ordinary seven or eight-year-old child, they might have gone along with the elder's words. But Zhao Wenqi acted so sensible, surprising the Zhao family relatives in the side hall.

Someone curiously asked, "Aunt, whose child is this?"

Old Madam Zhao quickly pulled Zhao Wenqi in front of her and introduced him to everyone present, "This is my grandson Wenqi. He's been smart and filial since he was young and has always stayed by our side."

These relatives exchanged glances. They all knew that Zhao Ming and Lady Xiao Lin only had one son and one daughter, and their children were no longer young. How could Old Madam Zhao have another grandson?

Old Madam Zhao hadn't realized anything was amiss with her words when Zhao Wenqi spoke up. He said generously, "Greetings to all elders. Wenqi was adopted by Grandpa and Grandma."

After speaking, he gently tugged at Old Madam Zhao's hem.

Old Madam Zhao then reacted and quickly covered up, "Yes, this child had bad luck. He lost his parents' care shortly after birth. I thought since we're from the same clan and he was pitiful, I'd raise him at home."

"So that's how it is. No wonder this child is so intelligent. He must have absorbed the literary talent of your family," a relative immediately chimed in.

Old Madam Zhao laughed heartily, "Who says not? My son's literary talent has all been absorbed by this child."

As she spoke, she stroked Zhao Wenqi's head.

Zhao Wenqi simply stood by with a smile, letting all the relatives examine him. He appeared very composed.

For a child of only a few years old to achieve this was already astonishing.

The relative then asked, "Sister-in-law, you've come to Shangjing this time, you won't be leaving again, right?"

Old Madam Zhao nodded, "I'm not leaving. My grandson is of age and should start his studies. He can stay with his father to learn properly. In a few more years, with his intelligence, he'll surely be able to achieve fame."

"Could it be that Wenqi has already been adopted by my eldest nephew?" the person asked again.

"Precisely. My son is stubborn. He's deeply devoted to my daughter-in-law, and my daughter-in-law isn't able to bear children. Now that something has happened in the family, there's no one to carry on the incense. I had no choice but to adopt this child."

With Old Madam Zhao saying this, the other relatives nodded in agreement.

They had all heard that something had happened in the Zhao family. Although they hadn't inquired in detail, they had heard some gossip.

It was said that Lady Xiao Lin's death was related to her eldest son, and he had already been imprisoned. Today, they had come to offer condolences, but Zhao family's eldest son hadn't even shown his face. It seemed the rumors were mostly true.

The Zhao family had lost their eldest son, but someone had to inherit the family business. Now, there was a ready candidate.

Of course, some couldn't help but mutter in their hearts, Zhao Ming was not old. Since his eldest son was useless, why didn't he remarry and have another child?

But no one was foolish enough to ask such a question at this gathering.

A Chan quietly watched Zhao Wenqi beside Old Madam Zhao. The child seemed calm, but the smugness in his eyes couldn't be hidden.

Why the rush to adopt this child?

Because the eldest son was disappointing? Because there was no heir to the family business?

A Chan's gaze shifted from Zhao Wenqi's face to Zhao Ming's. The way Zhao Ming looked at Zhao Wenqi was full of pride, as if admiring his life's masterpiece.

Perhaps it was because this Zhao Wenqi, who was supposedly adopted by the Zhao family elders out of pity, was actually Zhao Ming's own son.

This kind of drama, A Chan was all too familiar with.