At this moment, Chen Qu Shui paced anxiously in the Yizhi Hall.

Beside him, Song Luo leaned on his elbow, feeling as if his eyes were about to be dazzled by Mr. Chen’s incessant circling.

Unable to hold back, he suggested, “Mr. Chen, why don’t you sit down and have a cup of tea?”

Hearing this, Chen Qu Shui paused but responded with a question of his own, “Has Wu Yi returned yet? Go check again!” The guards at Yizhi Hall had suddenly changed, and they were all confined there, unable to leave. Even meals were delivered by the maids to the door, then brought inside by the guards. They claimed that valuable items had gone missing from the household and were under investigation. However, the young master had only been back for half an hour, and the guards at the entrance had vanished, allowing free movement in and out.

Chen Qu Shui was extremely anxious and had sent Wu Yi to find the young master, insisting that he inform him of any unusual happenings in the estate.

But Wu Yi had been gone for nearly an hour and still had not returned.

With Chen Qu Shui’s question, Song Luo began to feel worried as well.

He headed to the front door.

The surroundings were eerily quiet; it seemed as if no one was in the entire Yizhi Hall. In contrast, the sounds of commotion from the mourning hall intermittently echoed, making the courtyard feel even more silent.

Song Luo wanted to look for Wu Yi, but recalling Mr. Yan’s warnings before he was assigned to serve Chen Qu Shui, he quickly suppressed that thought.

It seemed that Chen Qu Shui shared his concerns, believing that something suspicious was happening in the estate and that it should be reported to the young master as soon as possible.

“Why hasn’t Wu Yi returned yet?” he muttered to himself as he walked back. “The young master is back; he will surely go to see Duke first, then pay his respects at the mourning hall. He should be easy to find! Could it be that Wu Yi has encountered some trouble?”

Meanwhile, Chen Qu Shui, who agreed with Song Luo’s thoughts, pushed open the study window and gazed at the lush green leaves, freshly washed by the rain, lost in contemplation.

In half an hour, Duke Ying’s household would return to normal, which meant the outcome had been decided.

Had Song Mo won or lost?

Logically, with careful scheming and the bonds of blood, Song Mo should undoubtedly lose. Yet this person was ruthless; perhaps he had managed to escape death.

The urgent matter was to know the result.

If Song Mo had failed, he would certainly face repercussions. Although he had been cautious, burning any correspondence with the Fourth Miss after reading it, the people of Duke Ying’s household regarded him as a down-and-out scholar with no significance. Given Yan Chaoqing’s character, he had likely warned Song Luo and Wu Yi about certain matters. If they inadvertently revealed anything to the Duke’s household, it could lead to trouble.

If Song Mo had the upper hand, it would be best for him to stay put and not move—after all, they had merely stumbled upon his whereabouts. If he decided to eliminate everyone at the estate, and if he found out that he had fled during his time of crisis, he might even come to resent the Fourth Miss, which would be even more troublesome!

Whether to stay here or slip away during the chaos at the Duke’s household depended on whether Wu Yi could find Song Mo.

Thinking of this, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of regret.

If only he had managed to escape when the Jiang family matter was settled.

Lost in thought, he saw Song Luo returning alone.

Disappointment was evident on his face.

Song Luo hurried to reassure Chen Qu Shui, “Wu Yi might have gone to gather information; he should be back soon.”

Chen Qu Shui nodded.

The two exchanged a few idle words when Wu Yi returned, drenched in sweat.

Chen Qu Shui’s eyes lit up.

Song Luo stood up excitedly, asking, “Wu Yi, did you see the young master?”

“No!” Wu Yi replied, panting from his hurried journey. “As soon as the young master returned, Duke called him in for a discussion, and he hasn’t come out yet. Deputy Commander Ma Youming from the Shen Shu Camp came to pay his respects to the lady. Duke sent someone to invite the young master out to express gratitude, but Lu Zheng stopped him at the door, saying that the young master had rushed back to attend the funeral and hadn’t slept for six days and five nights.

Duke was worried that the young master wouldn’t be able to handle it, so he kept him in the upper house to rest properly, asking the elder to help the young master deal with things. He also said that if anyone inquired, they should say that Duke and the young master were discussing important matters and that no one was to disturb them, to prevent malicious gossip about the young master being unfilial.”

The elder referred to was Song Mo’s elder cousin, Song Qin.

“I see!” Song Luo’s tense expression relaxed, revealing a joyful smile.

Chen Qu Shui decided it was time to escape.

After riding for six days and five nights, he would surely collapse into sleep! Not to mention that the Duke’s elder had gone in to check on him; even if someone set off firecrackers nearby, it probably wouldn’t wake him. Was it really necessary to keep people outside?

He dismissed Song Luo and Wu Yi, thoroughly checking the room for any potential flaws. He tucked away the one thousand taels of silver notes that Dou Zhao had entrusted to Duan Gongyi, thinking how considerate the Fourth Miss was. He took a few pieces of silver and placed them in his pouch, waiting for the sky to darken. He planned to stroll through the garden, knowing that by the time dinner was served in the front courtyard, the Song family would be hosting a banquet for those coming to pay their respects. That would be the most chaotic time, the perfect opportunity to slip away. He opened the door to the inner room and smiled at Wu Yi and Song Luo, who were chatting under the eaves. “Since the young master is fine, I can relax. The weather after the rain is lovely; it’s perfect for a walk!”

The weather after the winter rain was chilly, hardly pleasant.

Wu Yi and Song Luo exchanged puzzled glances as they watched Chen Qu Shui head toward the small garden of Yizhi Hall.

Song Mo could feel himself growing weaker.

Perhaps he wouldn’t even need to trouble his father to open the ancestral hall; he might just die here.

His vision blurred.

The white hibiscus across from him transformed into a hazy white shadow, reminding Song Mo of his mother’s smooth, jade-like face.

Surely, his mother never dreamed that her son would die in her room, right?

As this thought crossed his mind, Song Mo felt an inexplicable stirring in his heart.

His mother had also died in this very room.

Was this fate?

Or mere coincidence?

He bit down hard on his tongue.

The white hibiscus bloomed serenely in the blue vase, exuding a tranquil beauty.

Outside, footsteps approached, and his father’s voice tinged with a hint of apology, mingled with the sounds: “I’ve disturbed several people because of this wretched child; I truly feel ashamed…”

They arrived quite quickly!

It must be that his father had sent a carriage to fetch them.

A trace of sarcasm flickered in Song Mo’s eyes.

His uncle, Song Maochun, entered with a confused tone: “Tian Ci, what on earth happened?”

“Didn’t a maidservant die after crashing into a pillar a few days ago?” his father replied in a low voice. “She was the lady’s maid. I originally thought she was loyal and intended to have her adopted as a goddaughter by the lady, so they could be buried together in the Song family’s ancestral grave. Who would have thought that the maid was already four months pregnant…”

“What?” His fourth uncle, Song Tongchun, exclaimed in alarm. “One corpse, two lives—this is a great misfortune! She absolutely cannot be buried in our Song family’s ancestral grave…”

“Fourth brother, listen to what Second Brother has to say!” Third Uncle, who often intimidated merchants entering the city, spoke with an air of authority. “Since Second Brother has discovered this, he certainly won’t allow her to be buried in our Song family’s ancestral grave. You shouldn’t interrupt before others finish speaking.”

Fourth Uncle muttered under his breath, too far away for Song Mo to hear clearly, but he could imagine his expression—both aggrieved and helpless.

He couldn’t help but smile again.

His uncles depended on his father for their livelihood; if his father wanted to open the ancestral hall, would they dare oppose him?

Song Mo had no desire to listen.

But the voices outside continued to assert themselves, intermittently reaching his ears.

“Isn’t she just a maidservant? Tian Ci’s interest in her is her good fortune! She’s dead, so what’s the need to open the ancestral hall?”

“Didn’t the emperor already settle the Jiang family matter? Moreover, during the autumn gathering, the emperor specifically summoned Tian Ci to reprimand him. You have no idea how envious the people in the tax department are of me!”

“Does Tian Ci have someone left by Duke Ying? That’s a good thing! We can take advantage of this! Since the Duke’s household is no more, rather than let others benefit, why not let us? After all, Tian Ci is the Duke’s nephew.”

“The censors can’t just make accusations without evidence, can they? That maid didn’t die from crashing into a pillar; let that maid named Xing something crash into a pillar too! Perfect! We can have a Second Sister-in-law adopt her as a goddaughter and let her continue serving her Second Sister-in-law in the afterlife!”

…

The three of them seemed to have seven or eight mouths, buzzing in Song Mo’s ears, giving him a splitting headache.

He smiled faintly.

The scene before him grew increasingly blurry, his eyelids drooping uncontrollably.

No!

He couldn’t die yet!

Song Mo bit down hard on his tongue.

His vision cleared slightly.

But this clarity was fleeting, and his sight blurred once more.

After six days and five nights of frantic travel, coupled with a severe beating… his body had reached its limit.

So what if that were the case?

Song Mo snorted coldly and opened his eyes again.

The white hibiscus was blooming right in front of him.

He noticed that the flower’s stamens were a pale yellow; at first glance, it appeared entirely white.

Why use white hibiscus?

It was also the blooming season for camellias.

The bright red camellias were fiery yet elegant.

Suddenly, a face floated into his mind.

A face as smooth as white jade, with long brows framing bright apricot eyes, a hint of a smile at the corners of her mouth—intelligent and spirited.

Like a camellia.

So graceful, yet it exuded a vibrant allure.

It should be proud, yet it was calm and straightforward.

He wondered if the flowers she planted had bloomed yet.

Song Mo softly murmured “Dou Zhao,” thinking to himself: I also know your milk name is Shou Gu…

He smiled.

Her exquisite features were like the rising sun, warm and gentle.

But before him lay a pitch-black void.

Song Yichun glared at his three cousins, his face ashen, speechless.

Song Maochun hurriedly tugged at Song Fengchun, who sat beside him.

Song Fengchun fell silent.

Song Tongchun also quieted down.

The three of them stared intently at Song Yichun, their faces filled with respect.

Only then did Song Yichun’s expression soften.

He cleared his throat and said solemnly, “I plan to open the ancestral hall and expel Song Mo from the Song family. What do you think?”

“Second brother, you are the clan leader; it’s naturally your decision,” Song Maochun quickly replied.

Song Fengchun eagerly added, “Tian Ci has indeed been very disappointing!”

“I agree with whatever Second Brother decides!” Song Tongchun said.

A hint of a smile appeared on Song Yichun’s face. “In that case, we will open the ancestral hall tomorrow at dawn. Eldest brother, third brother, and fourth brother, don’t be late.”

“We will be on time; we won’t be late,” they all hurriedly affirmed.

Song Yichun stood up. “Then we will meet again tomorrow.”

“Good, good, good!”

The three of them filed out of the hall, then coincidentally paused under the eaves.

The light from the white lanterns illuminated their faces, and they involuntarily sized each other up, avoiding one another’s gaze. One said he had something to discuss and urged them to leave first, while another insisted he wanted to return with his son, and they each exited Duke Ying’s household separately.

Song Yichun entered the inner room with a dark expression.

The light from the white lanterns under the eaves streamed through the glass window, casting a dark brown shadow on the floor, but Song Mo was nowhere to be seen.

Song Yichun’s eyes widened.

The white hibiscus on the tea table bloomed silently, the green curtains hung quietly, and the sweet, lingering scent of incense filled the room.

The room was silent.

Song Mo was gone.

“Come here!” Song Yichun stumbled out of the inner room, roaring at the guards outside, “Quick, come here!”

In the alley next to Duke Ying’s household, two burly men carried a blue coarse cloth sedan chair, adorned with a gold and silver embroidered dragon pattern that only a second-rank official could use, heading toward Andingmen Street.