Chapter 16

When A Chan saw Mama Sun again, it was already early March.

The willow branches had sprouted, apricot blossoms covered the branches, and even the wind carried a hint of spring.

Mama Sun, however, had grown much older. She was so thin that her cheeks had sunk in, and more than half her hair had turned white.

"It's been so long. Have you been well, miss?" Mama Sun hadn't come in a carriage from Zhao Manor today. She had walked here.

"I'm well. Come in and rest, Mama Sun." A Chan invited her inside.

Mama Sun shook her head outside the room. "I won't come in. I came today to tell you that Madam's body has been brought back to the manor. They'll set up the Mourning Hall tomorrow, and the funeral will be held the day after."

A Chan understood. More than ten days had passed, so the case must have been settled by now. She just didn't know... what the final outcome had been.

"All right. I'll be there," A Chan agreed.

The next day, A Chan got up early.

She changed into a plain white jacket and skirt, then picked a white velvet flower hairpin from her wooden box. Her slender fingers brushed over the gold ornaments inside, still gleaming brightly, and she sighed softly.

Late in the shichen, A Chan arrived outside Zhao Manor. The lanterns at the entrance had all been changed to white, each bearing a large black character for "condolence."

A servant from Zhao Manor saw A Chan, came forward to greet her, and led her inside.

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

On the offering table before it sat Lady Xiao Lin's memorial tablet and all manner of offerings.

Seeing Zhao Wenyue in mourning clothes in the Mourning Hall, A Chan wasn't very surprised. Just as she'd guessed, the Mingjing Division probably hadn't found any solid evidence, and Zhao Wenyue had been released.

But what truly surprised A Chan was that, besides Zhao Wenyue, there was also a boy who looked only seven or eight years old in the Mourning Hall. He was dressed in mourning clothes, too.

Not only that, the boy was kneeling ahead of Zhao Wenyue, seemingly taking the place of Zhao Wensheng, the eldest son.

Only children wore heavy mourning for their parents. When had Lady Xiao Lin acquired another son?

A Chan entered the Mourning Hall without showing what she thought, offered Three incense sticks to Lady Xiao Lin, then received the customary bows from the mourning son and daughter.

After accepting their bows, she said to Zhao Wenyue, "Cousin, my condolences."

Only when she heard A Chan's voice did Zhao Wenyue look up. Seeing that it was A Chan, hatred surged in her eyes. "It's you, you wretched woman!"

She had been locked up in the Mingjing Division for ten whole days. The Town Prison was cut off from daylight, bitterly cold and terrifying. Day and night, she'd heard wails and screams at her ears. She couldn't close her eyes at all.

Luckily, the vendor who had sold her the hairpin had died unexpectedly, and the Mingjing Division hadn't been able to seize the opportunity to pin the crime on her. Her father had found a way and enlisted someone's help before they finally let her out.

After she got out, her father told her that neither Mama Sun nor her mother's personal maid had mentioned the Jade hairpin. It had clearly been Ji Chan who told the people from the Mingjing Division about it.

If not for her, how could she have suffered so much?

Zhao Wenyue was just about to rise when the boy beside her swiftly grabbed her sleeve. He raised his head; his clear, black-and-white eyes held none of a child's innocent ignorance.

He said to Zhao Wenyue, "This is Mother's Mourning Hall. Older Sister is keeping vigil. It would be best not to make a disturbance, lest you offend Mother."

Zhao Wenyue shook off the boy's hand and said coldly, "What are you supposed to be? You really think that just because Father agreed to let you keep vigil in place of my brother, you can be adopted under my mother's name? Dream on!"

The boy's voice was crisp. "Older Sister is worrying too much. Wenqi never thought that."

Still, the boy's words at least stopped Zhao Wenyue from doing anything more outrageous.

Seeing that A Chan had remained silent the whole time, the boy seemed to think she'd been frightened. He even spoke to comfort her. "Please forgive Older Sister, cousin. She's only so grief-stricken over losing her mother that she didn't mean to target you."

He had immediately called her cousin, and spoke as though he were a young master of the household. A Chan thought that the Zhao family seemed to have undergone quite a few changes in the past few days.

"Who are you?" A Chan asked, sounding puzzled.

"My name is Zhao Wenqi. I'm a distant relative of the Zhao family. My parents died, and my grandparents took me in. When I heard Madam had passed away unexpectedly, I came to the capital with them." Zhao Wenqi introduced himself clearly, explaining his background in full as well.

"I see. A pleasure to meet you, Cousin Wenqi." A Chan returned his greeting.

Seeing her reaction, Zhao Wenqi secretly breathed a sigh of relief, then said, "There are quite a few guests here to pay their respects today. Please forgive us if we've neglected you, cousin."

"You're too polite, cousin."

After saying that, Zhao Wenqi called in a servant waiting outside and instructed them to take A Chan to the Side hall to rest.

He seemed more sensible than Zhao Wenyue.

A Chan didn't stay in the Mourning Hall. She followed the servant out.

Generally, guests who came to pay their respects weren't kept by the hosts for long. But A Chan was a relative of the Zhao family, so they had her stay.

There were only four or five people in the Side hall. Judging by how familiar they seemed with one another, they were probably all relatives of the Zhao family. After all, apart from A Chan, all of Lady Xiao Lin's family were now on the road to exile.

Sitting in the main seat of the Side hall was an old woman with hair that was half white. Though she was dressed richly, her mannerisms were rather coarse. She was probably Zhao Ming's mother, Lady Xiao Lin's mother-in-law.

When Old Madam Zhao saw A Chan enter, she stopped talking to the relatives beside her and turned to ask, "Which family are you from? Why haven't I seen you before?"

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

"So it's you." Old Madam Zhao had probably heard a little about Ji Chan from someone, for her eyes held a trace of contempt. But she said nothing more, only asking that one question before looking away.

Old Madam Zhao made her likes and dislikes perfectly clear. Since she ignored A Chan, the other Zhao family relatives naturally wouldn't speak to her either.

A Chan sat alone in a corner. She ate a couple of pastries and sat quietly, listening to the people around her talk. It suited her just fine.

About an hour and a half later, the master of the house, Zhao Ming, who had been nowhere to be seen, came over with Zhao Wenqi and Zhao Wenyue.

Zhao Ming entered the Side hall, first paying his respects to his mother in the main seat, then greeting the other relatives.

Behind him, Zhao Wenyue was perfunctory in her manner. Even when she greeted her own grandmother, her expression was cold. Old Madam Zhao didn't look pleased either; she didn't seem to care much for this granddaughter.

But when she saw Zhao Wenqi, Old Madam Zhao's face bloomed with smiles. She hurriedly beckoned him over. "Wenqi, come to Grandma."

Zhao Wenqi went to Old Madam Zhao's side and called, "Grandma."

"Ah, my darling grandson." As she spoke, she rubbed his knees with concern. "You've been kneeling for so long. Do your legs hurt?"

"Don't worry, Grandma. They don't hurt." Zhao Wenqi comforted Old Madam Zhao.

"How could they not hurt? Poor child, you're only halfway to being grown, yet you've had to kneel for so long—and she wasn't even your own mother."

***

"That's what Wenqi ought to do."

If this had been an ordinary seven- or eight-year-old, he might have gone along with the old woman's words. But Zhao Wenqi was so sensible that all the Zhao family relatives in the Side hall were astonished.

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

Old Madam Zhao hurriedly pulled Zhao Wenqi in front of her and introduced him to everyone present. "This is my grandson, Wenqi. He's been clever and filial since he was little, always by his grandparents' side."

The relatives exchanged glances. They all knew that Zhao Ming and Lady Xiao Lin had only one son and one daughter, and both children were grown now. How had Old Madam Zhao suddenly acquired another grandson?

Old Madam Zhao hadn't yet realized anything was amiss in what she'd said when Zhao Wenqi beside her spoke up. He said frankly, "Greetings, elders. Wenqi was adopted by my grandparents."

After speaking, he gave Old Madam Zhao's sleeve a gentle tug.

Only then did Old Madam Zhao realize her mistake. She hurriedly tried to explain. "That's right. The poor child lost his parents shortly after he was born. I thought that since we were of the same clan and he had no one, I'd raise him in our home."

"I see. No wonder the child is so clever. He must have inherited your family's literary talent," one relative immediately remarked.

Old Madam Zhao burst into laughter. "Exactly! My son's literary talent has all rubbed off on this child."

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

Zhao Wenqi simply stood to one side with a smile, letting all the relatives look him over. He seemed completely at ease.

For a child of only a few years old to carry himself like that was already astonishing.

The relative asked again, "Sister-in-law, now that you've come to Shangjing, you won't be leaving again, will you?"

Old Madam Zhao nodded. "No, we won't. My grandson is getting on in years and should start school. It's just right for him to stay by his father's side and study hard. In a few years, with his intelligence, he'll surely earn himself a degree."

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

"Exactly. My son is stubborn—he's still devoted to my daughter-in-law, of all people. And she wasn't able to bear children. Now that disaster has struck our family, there's no one to carry on the family line, so we had no choice but to adopt this child."

When Old Madam Zhao put it that way, the other relatives nodded in agreement.

They had all heard that something had happened to the Zhao family. Though they hadn't looked too closely into it, they'd picked up some rumors.

They said Lady Xiao Lin's death had something to do with her eldest son, who had already been taken into custody. Today, when they came to pay their respects, the Zhao family's eldest son hadn't shown his face at all. It seemed the rumors were probably true.

The Zhao family had lost its eldest son, but someone still had to inherit the family estate. Now they had a ready-made heir.

Of course, some of them couldn't help wondering privately: Zhao Ming wasn't old. Since his eldest son was done for, why not take another wife and have another child?

But no one would be foolish enough to ask that in a setting like this.

A Chan quietly watched Zhao Wenqi by Old Madam Zhao's side. The child looked calm, but he hadn't quite managed to conceal the smugness in his eyes.

Why the rush to adopt this child?

Because the eldest son was useless? Because no one else could inherit the family estate?

A Chan's gaze shifted from Zhao Wenqi's face to Zhao Ming's. The look he gave Zhao Wenqi was filled with pride, as if he were admiring the masterpiece of his life.

Perhaps it was because this Zhao Wenqi, supposedly adopted out of pity by the old master and madam of the Zhao family, was actually Zhao Ming's own son.

A Chan was all too familiar with this sort of charade.