Zhao’er’s eyes widened slightly.

Full of anticipation!

The woman’s gaze was gentle as she touched her delicate face, her tone somewhat weak. “Of course, the Bodhisattva will surely bless my dear Zhao’er to meet the person she likes, to be like a butterfly.”

Zhao’er smiled.

Her cheeks flushed red.

She threw herself into the woman’s embrace again.

Unwilling to let go.

The woman stroked her jet-black hair while saying, “My dear Zhao’er, Mother hopes you can live happily your entire life, marry the person you love in the future, and hold hands together until old age. Don’t be like Mother, day and night… only able to stay confined in this empty courtyard.”

Her tone was desolate!

So pitiful!

Zhao’er could only hold her tightly.

Just then—

Zhuxin had already caught up, panting for breath. But she didn’t enter the inner chamber, instead standing beside the screen and calling inside, “Second Miss, the Master said… he doesn’t want you coming here.”

Hearing this, Zhao’er rose from her mother’s embrace, turned to look at Zhuxin, and said, “I want to stay a little longer.”

“But if the Master finds out, he’ll scold Miss again.”

“But…”

“You’d better leave quickly.”

Urging her!

Zhao’er was reluctant.

She choked up softly.

She gripped her mother’s clothing tightly and called out, “Mother…”

The woman wiped away her tears, forcibly suppressing the pain of separation in her heart, and said, “Zhao’er, be good. Go back quickly.”

“But I still have so much to tell Mother.”

“Next time, when you come next time, we’ll talk properly then.”

“Mother…”

“Go quickly!”

The woman pushed her away.

Tears filled Zhao’er’s eyes, but she still refused to leave.

Zhuxin stood at the doorway, looking back from time to time, afraid someone would notice. Finally, truly too anxious to bear it, she stepped into the inner chamber.

She bowed to the woman lying on the bed.

“Greetings, Second Madam.”

The woman ordered, “Zhuxin, take Second Miss away from here quickly.”

“Yes!”

Zhuxin then grabbed Zhao’er and pulled her toward the door, saying as she did so, “Miss, let’s go quickly.”

Zhao’er was petite with little strength.

She was directly pulled out.

Without any room to struggle.

Finally leaving this remote and dilapidated courtyard.

As soon as Zhao’er left, the woman couldn’t help but shed tears.

The pain in her heart could not be expressed in words.

“Cough…”

The woman coughed violently.

And coughed up blood!

Fresh blood stained the handkerchief embroidered with a stalk of bamboo!

Particularly striking.

She quickly clutched the handkerchief in her palm, using her sleeve to carefully wipe away the blood stains on it.

This was something she had embroidered for her daughter. It couldn’t be soiled.

But as she wiped, she wept.

Her lips turned even paler.

Her entire face became increasingly wan.

…

After Zhao’er was pulled from the courtyard, she sobbed softly all along the way.

Zhuxin felt very sorry for her and comforted her, “Miss, don’t be sad anymore.”

Zhao’er said nothing.

She bit her lip hard.

And continued walking forward!

They say that behind every person lies an unspeakable story.

Either sorrowful!

Or joyful!

Zhao’er was no exception!

Her mother, Jiang Shi, had originally been a lowly maid who swept floors in the Duke’s Estate, with an extremely humble status. But over ten years ago, Duke Zhao Binghuai had consulted a fortune-teller to cast his horoscope. The divination showed that he must marry a woman whose birth chart clashed with his own and have a child with her, and that the child thus born would bring him success for his entire life! Thus, the Duke married Jiang Shi, whose birth chart clashed with his own, and she gave birth to Zhao’er. On the very day Zhao’er was born, the Duke sent Jiang Shi to the most remote and neglected courtyard in the estate, and from then on paid no attention to her whatsoever. Ever since Jiang Shi moved there, she had been constantly ill and had never stepped outside that courtyard again. By her side was only one old nanny to attend her.

As for Zhao’er, because of the fortune-teller’s words, after she was born the Duke placed her by his side to be raised, doting on her extremely, treating her like a precious jewel in his palm.

Even the estate’s eldest daughter who had already married out was very jealous of her.

Yet Zhao’er, who enjoyed such overwhelming favor, endured the pain of separation from her mother.

Each time she went to find her mother Jiang Shi, the Duke would fly into a rage. There were even several times when the Duke planned to send Jiang Shi out of the estate so that mother and daughter would never meet again, but given Zhao’er’s repeated entreaties, he had no choice but to let the matter drop.

But ultimately Zhao’er could not bring her mother to stay beside her.

Each time she thought of this, she cried very sadly.

After returning to her own courtyard.

She locked herself in her room.

Refusing to see anyone!

…

On the other side.

The three of them—Jingrong and company—inquired throughout Gaoding City for an entire day but never obtained the slightest news of Cha He.

Seeing that the sky was growing late, they could only return first.

Just arriving at the alley entrance, they ran into Song Zhi.

Hadn’t this fellow gone to buy books?

Why was he also returning so late?

“Master Song? Where have you been?” Ji Yinshu asked him.

“I went to buy books.”

“Why so late?”

“Those books were so hard to find. I walked several streets before I saw them.”

“As long as you found them, that’s good.”

Song Zhi smiled, then suddenly his expression froze, and he said strangely, “By the way, today… I heard about something.”

Hmm?

Ji Yinshu, Jingrong, and Bai Yin all looked at him together.

Thinking what could this bookworm have heard about?

Nothing more than something about some scholar writing a book or composing a poem, that sort of thing.

So they couldn’t muster much interest.

Song Zhi said, “This afternoon I passed by a teahouse and saw many examination candidates who came this year sitting inside. I had planned to go in to chat with them and discuss scholarship, but who would have known…”

He paused!

“What happened?” Bai Yin suddenly grew curious and urged, “Just say it clearly already. Don’t drag it out.”

He had never liked Song Zhi’s manner.

Song Zhi smiled bitterly. “Bai Yin, I’m not dragging it out. I’m just speaking a bit slowly, that’s all.”

Well now, this fellow had actually learned to talk back.

A hopeless case indeed!

Bai Yin was at a loss for words!

Song Zhi then pressed his lips together and continued, “I had just sat down when the people at the next table started talking about a strange recent incident! They said that a scholar’s lodge specifically hosting examination candidates has suddenly become haunted! Someone saw a man wearing scholar’s robes standing under a large tree in the middle of the night, with his hair hanging loose, his face deathly pale, grinning at people—extremely eerie. But in the blink of an eye, the person disappeared! Supposedly many of the scholars staying in the lodge have seen it. This matter has already spread like wildfire among those students.”

Because the sky had already grown late, and this alley was somewhat long.

Cold wind blew from the end of the alley to its entrance.

Whooshing and whistling!

Making it even more spine-chilling.

The more Song Zhi spoke, the more the hair on the back of his own neck stood on end.

He couldn’t help but edge closer to Bai Yin.

Bai Yin shifted a step to the side.

Creating distance.

But after Ji Yinshu finished listening, she actually smiled.

Because she had never believed in such things.

She said to Song Zhi, “There are no ghosts in this world. If there are any, they exist only in people’s hearts!”