17

Back when the Marquis of Jinyang married Madam Xue and introduced her and her two children to everyone, he had looked just like Zhao Ming did today. There had been a pride in his eyes that he could barely contain, as though he thought his own son was outstanding in every way.

Unfortunately, Ji Chan hadn't understood it back then.

But A Chan, sitting here today, saw it clearly.

The difference was that the Marquis of Jinyang had brazenly brought them straight home. He didn't care what people outside said; with his status and standing, he could easily suppress the rumors.

Zhao Ming, on the other hand, was a censor. If he himself behaved improperly and someone caught him in the act, he might not even be able to keep his official post. That was why he had put on this show.

Old Madam Zhao had likely planned what she said today long ago, hoping to take the opportunity to make Zhao Wenqi's status official.

At Lady Xiao Lin's funeral, he had hastily acknowledged a son, and everyone would praise Lord Zhao for his deep devotion to his late wife.

What surprised A Chan was that Zhao Wenyue hadn't taken the opportunity to stir up trouble. She didn't believe Zhao Wenyue's nature would make her so considerate toward her father. She must have received enough in return to agree to this adoption.

The only source of instability in the household had been dealt with, and Zhao Wenqi's adoption had been made known among the relatives. It would likely be difficult to change things now.

A Chan looked at Zhao Wenqi, basking in everyone's praise, his face alight with pride. Then she thought of Lady Xiao Lin, who had cradled her belly with such hope just over ten days ago, and thought, Humans really are heartless.

She kept her eyes on Zhao Wenqi and noticed that he occasionally glanced her way, as if looking for someone.

A Chan glanced around and spotted a young woman in her thirties among the many Zhao relatives. The woman wore simple clothes, but had clearly dressed with care. The set of jade ornaments she wore looked especially valuable.

The woman was seated not far from A Chan. Whenever Zhao Wenqi looked over, she would smile at him, as if reassuring him.

"The banquet has been prepared. Please, everyone, move to your seats." Only after the relatives' curiosity had been satisfied did Zhao Ming instruct the servants to lead everyone to the tables.

A Chan deliberately sat beside the young woman. She didn't speak to her, but learned who she was from the other people at their table.

The woman's surname was Su. She was a distant relative of Old Madam Zhao.

People said she had married a traveling merchant from out of town when she was young. Less than two years after moving away with him, he had died in an accident, leaving her alone. She had no choice but to return to Shangjing to make a living.

A young, beautiful widow with a substantial fortune at her disposal—it was no wonder someone had tested the waters as soon as she sat down, asking whether she planned to remarry and offering to find her a match.

Madam Su politely but firmly declined the offer.

After the meal, people took their leave in groups of two and three, planning to return the next day for Lady Xiao Lin's funeral.

A Chan stayed behind, and Madam Su did not hurry to leave either.

It was only after Old Madam Zhao finished her meal and was helped out by her children and grandchildren that Madam Su finally rose and went to greet them.

Old Madam Zhao's face immediately lit up when she saw Madam Su. "Isn't this A Yao? You came to the residence without even telling me. Have we grown so distant?"

Madam Su hurried to smile and explain. "Aunt, how could that be? I've come to see you now, haven't I?"

Old Madam Zhao took her hand. "It's good that you've come. I'll have someone tidy up a courtyard right away. A Yao, you must stay here for a few days this time, so we can have a proper chat."

"But..." Madam Su looked troubled.

Zhao Ming, standing beside Old Madam Zhao, spoke up. "Mother hasn't been feeling well lately. If it's convenient for you, Cousin, please stay at the residence and keep her company."

"Then I'll accept your kind offer." Madam Su glanced at Zhao Ming, then quickly looked away.

When Zhao Wenqi heard that Madam Su would be staying, he could hardly conceal his excitement. He kept hovering by her side, and Madam Su reached out to stroke his cheek, her gaze tender.

It was an utterly ordinary sight to anyone else, but to A Chan, it was the key that unlocked every mystery.

Several members of the Zhao family left arm in arm with Madam Su. Zhao Wenqi hopped along beside them, finally displaying a child's carefree innocence. They looked like a warm, harmonious family—as if they were the real family.

They all seemed to have forgotten that the woman lying in the coffin in the Mourning Hall had once been the mistress of this residence.

That night, in the Mourning Hall.

Thick white candles burned on the offering table, filling the hall with light. Zhao Wenyue knelt on a cushion, her expression restless.

It was already the hour of the boar. Zhao Wenqi had been taken away by Old Madam Zhao early, who said he was young and needed to sleep early. Zhao Wenyue, however, had to stay in the Mourning Hall and keep vigil.

Zhao Wenyue didn't want to stay here. Just thinking of her mother's corpse lying in the coffin made her feel uneasy all over. She couldn't shake the feeling that her mother was watching her.

Another quarter of an hour passed. Suddenly, footsteps sounded outside the Mourning Hall, and Zhao Wenyue turned pale with fright.

When the person entered and she saw who it was, she finally breathed a sigh of relief. "Father, what brings you here?"

Zhao Ming stepped forward and helped Zhao Wenyue up from the cushion. He spoke to her gently. "You've been tired all day. Go get some rest tonight. I'll keep watch over your mother here."

"Thank you, Father." Zhao Wenyue sprang to her feet, but her legs had gone numb from kneeling, and she stumbled as she stood.

"Slow down." Zhao Ming steadied her with a firmer grip and reminded her, "You're a grown woman now. Once these three months are over, the Xue Family will come to discuss the marriage. You need to act with more composure."

"I know. You're still the one who treats me best." She said it, and she meant it.

Only her father cared about her and knew what she wanted. Her mother was always claiming she had Zhao Wenyue's best interests at heart, but really, she only cared about herself.

Although she didn't much like Old Madam Zhao, the old woman had been right about one thing: her mother was selfish.

Now that her mother was gone, the residence had become much more peaceful. At least no one was constantly meddling in her affairs.

After watching his daughter leave, Zhao Ming bent down and picked up a stack of paper money. He went to the brazier, crouched beside it, and tossed the sheets in one by one.

The paper money blackened in the flames, then turned to ash. The dancing firelight in the brazier flickered across Zhao Ming's face.

"Qiao Niang, I was very glad I could marry you back then. I even thought I'd treat you well for the rest of my life, though you had to marry me because your reputation had been ruined."

Zhao Ming's voice was low as he told the truth Lady Xiao Lin had never known.

"But you relied on your family's standing and looked down on my parents. You didn't care about my dignity and insisted on driving them away. You didn't want to bear me another son, and you wouldn't let me take a concubine. I gave in to you on all of that.

"But you should never have killed the child my cousin and I were yet to have. I never intended to bring her into the residence as a concubine; that child was an accident. Yet you couldn't even tolerate that. You secretly forced my cousin to abort it. The child was already six months along—a boy."

"All these years, you never once mentioned it to me, and I pretended nothing had happened. That night, when you heard a baby crying, you were so terrified. Was it because you'd done something wrong and felt guilty?"

Zhao Ming sounded as if he were questioning Lady Xiao Lin, but there was no way she could answer him now.

The flame atop a candle flickered.

"Thankfully, Heaven had eyes. My cousin bore me another child. I named him Wenqi. He's been clever and diligent since he was little. He's far better than Wensheng, whom you spoiled into uselessness."

At this, Zhao Ming smiled. "There isn't a single thing about that boy Wensheng that resembles me, yet he holds the status of the legitimate son. How could a worthless wretch like that be the son of me, Zhao Ming?

"Someone had to be sacrificed if Wenqi was to remain in the residence with a legitimate claim. You should be able to understand that, shouldn't you?"

"But don't worry. Even though you're dead, you'll always be my first wife. Wenqi will still have to call you Mother."

At that moment, a faint noise came from outside. Zhao Ming turned toward the doorway and demanded in a low voice, "Who's there? Come out."

"Cousin, it's me." Su Yao appeared outside the Mourning Hall. She wore a white cloak, but it didn't hide the crimson skirt beneath.

Zhao Ming looked surprised. He rose and went to her, taking her hand without the slightest hesitation. "It's so cold. What are you doing here?"

"I was worried about you." She glanced at the memorial tablet in the Mourning Hall. "And I came to offer Sister an incense stick."

"Why are you calling her Sister?"

Zhao Ming led her into the Mourning Hall by the hand. In public, the two of them had never even met each other's eyes, but in private, they were more intimate than most married couples.

"Wenqi will be listed under her name from now on. By rights, I should call her Sister." She sighed, sounding somewhat sorrowful. "If our first child were still alive, I imagine he'd be as clever as Wenqi."

"It's all in the past." Zhao Ming comforted her gently.

Su Yao really did go forward and light three incense sticks, but before she could place them in the burner, Zhao Ming took them from her and tossed them into the brazier.

"Don't offer her incense. She doesn't deserve to be called your sister."

Su Yao sighed. "Though she killed our first child, Wenqi has taken her child's place now. You could say it's the cycle of cause and effect."

"You've been wronged, having to keep your relationship with Wenqi secret for now," Zhao Ming said tenderly.

Su Yao smiled. "Cousin, what are you saying? As long as you and Wenqi are well, nothing else matters. I don't care about a title. I only want to see you as often as I used to."

Zhao Ming put his arm around her, and Su Yao rested her head against his shoulder.

As they shared their feelings, Mama Sun stood outside the door, covering her mouth as she stared fixedly at the two embracing figures.

She had been worried Zhao Wenyue wouldn't keep a proper vigil and would neglect the incense for Madam that night, so she had come to check. She never expected to hear all of that.

Looking at the two people wrapped in each other's arms in Madam's Mourning Hall, Mama Sun slowly backed away. She had never dreamed that the master, who had once indulged Madam in everything, could be such a heartless man.

It was so dark outside that Mama Sun didn't notice a stone underfoot. She kicked it, and it flew off to hit something with a dull thud.

Zhao Ming immediately let go of Su Yao and shouted, "Who's there?"

As he spoke, he headed outside.

Just then, a gust of wind blew in and slammed the door shut with a bang, nearly striking Zhao Ming in the face.

Taking advantage of the moment, Mama Sun hurried away.

Zhao Ming kicked the door open, but no one was outside.

Su Yao came forward and peered out as well. "The wind must have blown something over."

After a brief hesitation, she said, "Cousin, I've heard that those who died unjustly are most likely to bring trouble to a household. That gust of wind just now was so strange. Do you think it could be...?"

As she spoke, she glanced at the coffin in the Mourning Hall.

"Don't worry," Zhao Ming reassured her. "I've already sent someone to invite Daoist Master Jingyun from Pingnan Temple. He'll arrive first thing tomorrow morning."

"Daoist Master Jingyun? Did you invite him to perform a rite and deliver Sister's soul?"

"No." Zhao Ming watched the candle flames flickering wildly in the Mourning Hall, his voice cold. "That master is best at sealing souls. Once the soul is sealed inside the coffin, we won't have to worry about ghosts coming out to make trouble."

Even if Lin Xiaoqiao really did become a ghost after she died, he wouldn't give her the slightest chance to fight back.

At this, Su Yao relaxed and said, "Cousin, you really have thought of everything."

Zhao Ming smiled. "Wenqi will be living in the residence from now on, and in a few years, you'll move in too. Of course I have to clear away every obstacle for you both."