Wen Yun was dead.

The festering wound combined with persistent high fever had caused this gambling-addicted young man to die in a dilapidated, cold room.

Wen Ping prostrated himself over his son’s corpse, weeping bitterly.

Such a scene made Wen Feng uncomfortable, yet he couldn’t bear to leave.

When Wen Ping had cried himself out, Wen Feng took out some broken silver from his pouch and handed it over. “Steward Wen, please accept my condolences. You still need to gather your spirits to handle the funeral arrangements.”

Wen Ping looked at the silver in Wen Feng’s hand, tears streaming down. “If only I could have fetched a doctor for Yun’er earlier, he wouldn’t have died…”

Wen Feng, smelling the faint stench in the room, said nothing.

To have such an odor meant Wen Yun’s festering wound was very serious. Even if he’d sought treatment earlier, it probably wouldn’t have helped much.

Of course, these words couldn’t be spoken to a father who had just lost his son.

“Please accept my condolences.” Wen Feng turned and walked two steps, then thought better of it and stopped. “Steward Wen, what are your plans for the future?”

“Plans?” A miserable smile appeared on Wen Ping’s grief-stricken face. “My son is dead. What plans could a penniless废人 like me have? I’ll just live one day at a time.”

“My father and I will be residing in the capital for some time and need someone to help manage household affairs. If Steward Wen is willing, after you’ve finished arranging your son’s funeral matters, you can come find me.”

Wen Ping looked at Wen Feng in surprise, clearly not expecting such an invitation.

Wen Feng smiled awkwardly. “It just can’t compare to Tenth Uncle’s estate—”

Wen Ping hurriedly interrupted. “This humble one is willing!”

Having experienced these days of hardship, he understood all too clearly how difficult it was to be without roots or foundation.

Wen Feng took his leave and returned home, where a table of food and wine awaited him.

“Feng’er, quickly tell Father what the Qionglin Banquet was like.” Wen Rusheng’s face was ruddy with joy, completely different from Wen Ping.

Wen Feng sat down and, faced with the wine his father offered, felt somewhat troubled. “Father, I drank quite a bit at the Qionglin Banquet. If I drink more, I’ll get drunk.”

“Then tell me what the Qionglin Banquet was like. Could you see the Emperor? Do they eat from golden bowls?”

“I saw him. Only the zhuangyuan uses a golden bowl, the others don’t…” After satisfying his father’s curiosity, Wen Feng brought up Wen Ping’s matter.

Wen Rusheng’s chopsticks, reaching for the roasted meat, froze above the plate. “Have Wen Ping come work at our house?”

“Steward Wen didn’t help Tenth Uncle cover things up back then, so he’s an upright person. Now that he’s in a difficult situation, your son thought it would be good to help him if we can.”

Hearing his son say this, Wen Rusheng nodded. “Since you think this way, then let him come.”

Perfect timing to chat with Steward Wen about Ah Hao being a demon—other people didn’t understand his feelings.

Lin Hao didn’t know that in such a short time Wen Ping’s circumstances had changed again. She walked home at an unhurried pace with Baozhu.

“Miss, there’s a lecher who’s been following you.” Baozhu, walking beside Lin Hao, suddenly warned in a low voice.

Lin Hao glanced back.

The young man walking behind had a palace flower in his hair and walked with composed steps, showing not the slightest appearance of someone following them.

Lin Hao recognized the young man.

It was the fellow graduate who had been with Wen Feng that day. If she wasn’t mistaken, this should be the newly famous zhuangyuan known throughout the realm.

“Don’t be paranoid.” After quietly instructing Baozhu, Lin Hao quickened her pace.

The sky was growing darker—she should return home soon.

Seeing the young woman ahead suddenly quicken her pace, Yang Zhe couldn’t help but smile.

It seemed he was being guarded against?

“Ah Hao.”

Lin Hao turned her head.

Cheng Shu walked over, his face showing disapproval. “Why are you coming home so late?”

“I went to see the zhuangyuan parade.” Lin Hao hadn’t expected to run into Cheng Shu and casually made up an excuse.

When she’d left home today, she’d told her mother the same thing.

Cheng Shu’s gaze passed over Lin Hao and fell on Yang Zhe, who was gradually approaching. He was immediately shocked. “Ah Hao, you went to see the zhuangyuan parade and brought the zhuangyuan home?”

Could it work like that?

“What are you talking about, Big Brother?” The corner of Lin Hao’s mouth twitched.

As they spoke, Yang Zhe had already approached.

Cheng Shu recovered his serious demeanor and cupped his fists in greeting. “Zhuangyuan Yang.”

Yang Zhe stopped. “This gentleman is—”

Cheng Shu patted his armor. “My surname is Cheng. I serve at the Imperial City. Today I had the fortune of witnessing the zhuangyuan’s distinguished bearing.”

“So it’s Junior General Cheng. Pleased to meet you.”

“Where is Zhuangyuan Yang heading?”

“The Qionglin Banquet has dispersed, and I’m returning to my lodgings.” As if finding this question odd, Yang Zhe’s expression became somewhat subtle.

“Then we won’t delay Zhuangyuan Yang from returning home.” Cheng Shu smiled awkwardly and quickly pulled Lin Hao into the General’s estate.

“I thought you’d brought the zhuangyuan home.”

Lin Hao was helpless. “Big Brother, what are you thinking?”

“Wasn’t it a coincidence? The zhuangyuan kept walking behind you.” Cheng Shu was quite interested in talking. “Ah Hao, you don’t know how glorious Zhuangyuan Yang was today. Many officials were dropping hints, inquiring about his situation.”

Lin Hao had little interest in this topic. “Big Brother, I’m going back to rest. I’m so tired after being out all day.”

Back at Luoying Residence, after washing up, Lin Hao lay down on her bed, feeling completely relaxed.

As long as the Chen family’s engagement was successfully broken off, Chen Yi would truly escape from the fire pit.

Early the next morning, Lin Hao sent Baozhu out to inquire.

Near noon, Baozhu brought back good news.

“The Earl of Huai’an and his wife went to the Marquis of Pingjia’s estate together and broke off the engagement.”

By the time the family gathered for the evening meal, Lin Shi also brought up this matter.

“Who knows if that wife of the Earl of Huai’an did it intentionally or unintentionally, arranging such a match for her stepdaughter. Fortunately, the Earl of Huai’an cares for his daughter and didn’t push her into the fire pit.”

The Old Madam glanced at Lin Shi and said coolly, “That’s why mothers must stay alive and well, so their children don’t have to call someone else ‘Mother.'”

Lin Shi deeply agreed and immediately ate another steamed bun.

The matter of the Heir of the Marquis of Pingjia reached the ears of the remonstrating officials and was quickly reported to the Emperor.

Emperor Tai’an became annoyed just hearing about it.

Why was everything such a mess lately?

The irritable Emperor summoned the Marquis of Pingjia to the palace for a thorough scolding. Fining him a year’s stipend was a small matter—the Emperor also stripped him of his position with actual power.

When the Marquis of Pingjia returned home, he went straight to his son’s quarters with a whip.

The wife of the Marquis of Pingjia got the news and rushed over, but not only failed to stop him, she also received several lashes herself.

Having been publicly humiliated and then whipped, the Heir of the Marquis of Pingjia immediately fell ill.

The wife of the Marquis of Pingjia looked at her son’s pitiful state, wept bitterly, had a huge fight with the Marquis of Pingjia, and also fell ill.

Because the Emperor had just reprimanded the Marquis of Pingjia, few people came to visit the estate, which had usually been lively with visitors. Most sent servants with gifts and left it at that.

For a time, the formerly glorious and prestigious marquis’s estate showed signs of decline.

Just as the capital was abuzz discussing the scandal at the Marquis of Pingjia’s estate, a young man secretly came to visit the heir.

The Heir of the Marquis of Pingjia’s face was ashen as he lay on his bed, looking at the young man with a miserable smile. “Wenyuan, why did you come?”

The young man frowned deeply. “Jincai, how did you become so ill?”

The Heir of the Marquis of Pingjia closed his eyes. “I’m utterly disgraced now. What else can I do?”