At this point, Pei Xiao finally understood.

“No wonder after the old matriarch moved to the bamboo courtyard, she often went to the Heart Lake, sitting for most of the day, no longer joking with the younger generation.”

Who could have imagined it was for this reason?

Yan Sanhe glanced at Pei Xiao, her voice rising again.

“She looked at the Heart Lake, but in her heart thought of the Beicang River, and that youth whose spine remained always straight.

How much she once worshiped and looked up to that youth—now she equally hated and loathed her own cowardice.

But she had no way not to be cowardly. The lives of over two hundred people in the Ji manor weighed on her shoulders. She was afraid!

So she could only use this method to make her conscience feel slightly less unbearable, so she could sleep a bit more peacefully at night.”

In Yan Sanhe’s mind, light and shadow fell gently.

The old matriarch sat by the Heart Lake, sitting until she became a stone. No one knew what earth-shattering turmoil raged in her heart.

Even Mama Chen thought the old matriarch was leisurely basking in the sun, sipping fragrant tea, enjoying her golden years.

Yan Sanhe suddenly felt moved.

“How laughable—a shocking case that stunned the court, and the first to see through the truth was actually an illiterate old matriarch who never left her inner chambers.”

Xie Zhifei and Pei Xiao, hearing this, involuntarily exchanged glances.

Not just laughable—truly damned ridiculous!

After a brief silence, Yan Sanhe spoke again.

“The old matriarch was taciturn and thoughtful even in her youth. When the Zheng family case occurred, she was nearly sixty. Living to that age, she would think more than others.”

“What did Mother think of?”

Ji Lingchuan was now like half a corpse, even speaking feebly.

Yan Sanhe said, “She was thinking about one thing: why did four departments jointly investigate the case, yet the case was still wrongly judged? And for what reason was it wronged?”

Xie Zhifei suddenly laughed coldly. “What she couldn’t figure out, no one can figure out.”

“Right, she absolutely couldn’t figure it out.”

Yan Sanhe turned her head. Xie Zhifei was gazing at her. “But she could figure out another matter.”

Xie Zhifei asked, “What?”

Yan Sanhe shifted her gaze away, looking at Ji Lingchuan on the ground, and crouched down again, word by word.

“She figured out the waters of this case ran deep. She figured out the waters of official circles ran deep. She figured out even more clearly that being an official was dangerous.”

Ji Lingchuan’s face visibly turned deathly pale.

He looked at Yan Sanhe with utter bewilderment.

“Yan, Miss Yan, what are you saying? Can you… can you speak slower?”

“You said she told you brothers to distance yourselves from the Zhang family. Why was this?”

“…”

Ji Lingchuan’s mouth hung open. He even forgot to breathe.

“The Zhang family is former wife Lady Zhang’s natal family, even more so the Crown Princess’s natal family. She never dared interfere in any matters between you and the Zhang family.

Why in her old age would she want you to distance yourselves from the Zhang family?”

Yan Sanhe took a deep breath.

“She strongly opposed Lady Ning’s daughter becoming the Crown Prince’s concubine, even threatening with a hunger strike? Ji Lingchuan, she didn’t even interfere in your marriage—why would she interfere in a granddaughter’s?”

Ji Lingchuan suddenly scrambled up from the ground using hands and feet, glaring viciously at Yan Sanhe, roaring with heart-rending fury:

“What exactly are you trying to say?”

“What am I trying to say—don’t you understand? Or won’t you acknowledge it?”

Ji Lingchuan couldn’t help but shudder.

“Why did she repeatedly say the Ji family’s wealth had reached the heavens? Why say the tallest tree catches the most wind? Why say everyone’s life has its fate?”

“You mean…”

Pei Xiao suddenly rushed over, crouched down, and grabbed Yan Sanhe’s arm.

“My maternal grandmother, because Wu Guanyue was wronged, feared someday the Ji family would suffer the same fate?”

Yan Sanhe looked at Pei Xiao, each word forced out one by one.

“Your maternal grandmother, because of the Zheng family case, thought of Wu Guanyue. Because of Wu Guanyue being wronged, thought of the capital’s official circles. Because of the terrifying nature of official circles, worried about her son within those circles.”

“This is impossible… absolutely impossible… ahhh…”

Ji Lingchuan suddenly broke down crying, crying while screaming brokenly, “She… she… couldn’t even read, she, she…”

“She had a brain and eyes.”

Yan Sanhe’s gaze was cold as ice.

“She managed the household, knew how much a jin of rice cost.

How much the Ji family’s monthly income was, how much the expenses.

Knew how much property the Ji family had outside, knew how much silver you brothers earned each year.

She sat by the Heart Lake every day—how much silver it took to dig that Heart Lake, she could calculate.

What the family ate at meals, what clothes they wore, how many more servants were added, how grand the comings and goings—she had a scale in her heart.

When she discovered the Ji family’s food, drink, and possessions grew more and more extravagant; when she discovered you, Ji Lingchuan, were secretly embezzling, accumulating wealth for the Zhang family—what couldn’t she figure out?”

Yan Sanhe laughed coldly.

“Perhaps she thought even more. She thought of the struggle between the Crown Prince and Prince of Han.

She thought her son belonged to the Crown Prince’s faction.

She thought whether someday, for certain reasons, her son might also become the next wrongly accused Wu Guanyue?”

“Impossible…”

Ji Lingchuan’s face became completely twisted and contorted. His hands clenched into fists, pounding the ground forcefully, still shouting madly:

“This is absolutely impossible…”

“Ji Lingchuan, you truly underestimate your mother.”

Yan Sanhe’s tone carried excitement even she couldn’t suppress.

“Wu Guanyue’s veins flowed with the blood of two dynasties—the Chen and Wu clans. Could a fisherwoman make someone like Wu Guanyue fall for her relying only on slight beauty?”

This light question made Ji Lingchuan’s spirit violently tremble.

“Wu Guanyue’s son Wu Shunian personally told us that after his father ascended the throne, he returned to the Beicang River and spoke to him of Hu Sanmei.

Wu Guanyue was then about fifty. A woman who could make a hero remember her forever must have had extraordinary qualities.

She came to the capital at sixteen. At not yet sixty, she discovered Wu Guanyue was wronged. She lived at the foot of the imperial city for a full forty years, immersed in your Ji family—an official household—for forty years.

Was she truly that illiterate old matriarch who never left her inner chambers, as you claim?

During forty years, she watched the rise and fall of capital families, watched those officials suffer house confiscation, exile, execution, clan extermination…”

Yan Sanhe’s eyes suddenly flashed fiercely. “Ji Lingchuan, dare you say ‘impossible’ one more time?”

Pei Xiao was frightened by the fierce light in her eyes, his heart skipping a beat. His hand loosened, and he fell back sitting on the ground, completely dazed.

Looking again at Ji Lingchuan.

He stared with two turbid eyes, pupils fixed, breathing weak as if hanging by a single thin thread.

The next instant, about to expire.

That impregnable wall in his heart completely collapsed with a thunderous crash.

“Ji Lingchuan!”

Yan Sanhe wearily closed her eyes, her voice extremely slow and gentle.

“In prison, your heart worried most not about your wife, not about your brother, but your youngest son Ji Twelve. You wished you could trade your life for his, bearing all his wounds and pain.”

Hearing mention of his youngest son, Ji Lingchuan’s eyes gained a bit of death-glow brightness.

“Your feelings toward Ji Twelve are the old matriarch’s feelings toward you. The only difference is…”

Yan Sanhe’s fierce light dissipated, leaving only sorrow.

“Your worry, care, and heartache for Ji Twelve could all be spoken, shouted out. She could not.

Though mother and son, she never had a mother’s authority before you. If you frowned, her heart feared. If your tone was impatient, she could only walk far away.

All her worry, care, and heartache for you could only be repeated dozens of times, hundreds of times, thousands of times in her mind alone in lonely, solitary nights.

My son, don’t be too greedy!

My son, distance yourself from the Zhang family!

My son, can’t we stop being an official…

Ji Lingchuan, suffering that can be spoken isn’t true suffering. What cannot be spoken—that is true suffering.”

Tears finally fell from Yan Sanhe’s eyes.

Rivers and earth, seas calm and rivers clear, ten thousand people living in peace…

This was what so many common people deeply hoped for.

To Hu Sanmei, born in poverty and humble circumstances, Wu Guanyue represented not just worship, love, and admiration, but also a spiritual faith.

How much must one love another person to dare betray one’s own faith!