In the flower hall of Qingzhi Courtyard, wisteria vines grew lush and green, incense burned in the tripod furnace, and two cups of freshly brewed Longjing tea sat motionless on the desk, adding several degrees of solemnity to the room. As soon as Yuanxi stepped through the door, she saw a familiar figure. Before she could react, that person had already walked to her side, supporting her shoulders and asking urgently: “Xi’er, are you all right?”

Seeing her father suddenly appear before her with an unfamiliar expression of concern on his face, Yuanxi felt somewhat dazed. For some reason, her heart didn’t fill with the warmth and emotion of reuniting with family—she just stood there blankly, with a vague unease in her heart. The next moment, Xia Mingyuan had already turned to face Xiao Du standing behind him, saying coldly: “I entrusted my daughter to you—is this how you treat her!”

Just as Yuanxi was about to speak in his defense, Xia Mingyuan gently pulled her aside, his voice still tender: “Don’t worry, Father will naturally seek justice for you. Just sit there.” Then without allowing any argument, he pressed her into a chair, indicating she shouldn’t say more.

Seeing this scene, Xiao Du’s lips curved in a cold smile as he spoke leisurely: “I had planned to come beg your forgiveness after everything was completely resolved, but I never expected my father-in-law’s information network to be so well-informed, coming early in the morning to demand accountability. This truly makes your son-in-law quite apprehensive.”

Yuanxi’s heart skipped a beat hearing this. Looking up to meet Xiao Du’s gaze, she saw it was calm as still water but without a trace of warmth.

Xia Mingyuan snorted lightly and continued questioning: “In such a grand marquis mansion, even the new wife can be abducted. I see you’ve grown soft living at home—where’s even half the bearing of Marquis Xuanyuan?”

Xiao Du made a formal bow: “Father-in-law’s instruction is correct. Your son-in-law has indeed grown accustomed to comfort these past two years and naturally cannot compare to your daily scheming, casually moving a finger to determine life and death.”

His words carried hidden meaning, which Xia Mingyuan naturally understood but deliberately pretended not to comprehend, walking back to sit beside the desk: “You need not deflect with such idle talk. You must give me an explanation for this matter today.”

Xiao Du raised his head, looking directly into Xia Mingyuan’s eyes that had been sharpened increasingly keen through years of political struggle, and smiled: “I wonder what kind of explanation Father-in-law desires?”

Xia Mingyuan was in no hurry now, picking up his teacup to sip some tea before asking: “Have you caught the culprit who abducted Xi’er?”

Xiao Du glanced at Yuanxi sitting stiffly to the side: “The culprit has been found, but unfortunately she’s already dead.”

Xia Mingyuan slammed the desk violently: “Dead? Can death simply end the matter? How about this—Shuntian Prefecture Governor Zhang Zhitong was once my student. I’ll have him personally come investigate this case thoroughly. We absolutely cannot let the villain who harmed my daughter escape justice.”

Xiao Du’s eyes narrowed as he immediately replied: “Father-in-law is thoughtful, but this matter is internal to my marquis mansion and needs no outsiders interfering.”

Xia Mingyuan stared at him coldly: “When someone dies, does it still count as internal affairs? Yuanxi is my daughter. Since you cannot protect her, then I as her father must personally take charge.”

“Father!” Yuanxi, who had been sitting quietly to the side, finally spoke timidly: “May your daughter say something? Xiao Du is my husband and the person I wish to entrust my life to. Your daughter trusts he can take good care of me. Please don’t pressure him anymore, Father.”

Though her voice wasn’t loud, every word was resolute. Xia Mingyuan couldn’t help but glare at her angrily, never expecting this usually shy and gentle daughter to say such words. His face darkened: “So you trust him but not your own father.”

Xiao Du showed a satisfied smile, stepping forward to take Yuanxi’s hand and putting on a sincere expression as he said to Xia Mingyuan: “Since Yuanxi has married me, her safety is the marquis mansion’s most important matter and will be something I hold dear to my heart. Father-in-law is busy with official duties daily, so please don’t trouble yourself with matters between us husband and wife.”

Seeing himself excluded, Xia Mingyuan’s expression grew increasingly displeased: “Fine. I’ll give you two days. After two days, I’ll come for your answer. If you still cannot find the real culprit by then, don’t blame me for invoking official authority.” He walked to Yuanxi’s side, his tone softening: “Take good care of yourself. Father will come see you again.” Yuanxi opened her mouth, not yet having time to ask about Seventh Concubine’s condition, when she saw Xia Mingyuan walk outside without looking back. She sighed and secretly glanced toward Xiao Du, only to find his face growing colder bit by bit.

Xiao Du slowly straightened, pondering repeatedly: Two days later would be the day Concubine Wang was elevated to secondary consort. What exactly was Xia Mingyuan’s scheme in deliberately choosing this timing? Concubine Wang’s elevation to secondary consort was strongly promoted by Wang Shoucheng. If something went wrong in between, the marquis mansion would lose its most crucial bargaining chip in court, and the Xia clan could then reap the benefits. Moreover, having just had an incident yesterday, why had Xia Mingyuan arrived so timely? Who was providing him information, managing to coordinate the timing so perfectly? Thinking this through, he couldn’t help glancing toward Yuanxi, his mind recalling what the hidden guard had once told him: “After all, she is Chancellor Xia’s daughter—one must be on guard.” His heart filled with doubt and uncertainty.

Yuanxi understood the suspicion hidden in that glance, and her heart suddenly felt pained. She stood up: “The Marquis surely has important matters to attend to, so I won’t disturb you further.” After speaking, she hurried outside. Xiao Du wanted to hold her back to say something more, but only touched her cold hem, and something in his heart emptied as well.

At this moment, the blazing sun outside the window heated the ground intensely. The marquis mansion’s servants clustered in twos and threes under tree shade, cursing the stifling weather. Beyond the lush green bamboo grove, Old Marquis Xiao Yunjing wore silk robes, his brush dancing like dragons and snakes as he practiced calligraphy before a pool of blue water. Seeing Xiao Du enter the room, he looked up and set his brush aside, asking: “Has Xia Mingyuan left?”

Xiao Du nodded and repeated the earlier conversation in the flower hall. The Old Marquis closed his eyes and sighed deeply: “Regardless of what he wants to do, who do you think is actually behind this matter?”

Xiao Du understood he was referring to the repeated attacks on Yuanxi. After hesitating briefly, he replied: “Since the day Yuanxi married in, the mansion has never been peaceful. I do indeed suspect someone in my heart, but…”

The Old Marquis saw through his thoughts and continued: “You want to say it was Shuoyao?”

Xiao Du nodded: “After all, Rong Qiao came from Concubine Wang’s room, and the estate incident couldn’t be unrelated to her. Now Rong Qiao is dead without testimony—very likely silenced. That makes Concubine Wang the most suspicious person. But…” He showed a puzzled expression and continued: “I still can’t understand why Concubine Wang would do this. Moreover, to arrange such a scheme requires someone extremely meticulous and ruthless in thinking. I always feel Concubine Wang isn’t that type of person.”

The Old Marquis sighed: “Though Shuoyao has some selfish motives, she’s not a truly evil person. All these years, I’ve wronged her…” He paused, then continued: “Just investigate freely. Since Chancellor Xia has already interfered, this matter must be more complex than it appears. Whoever it is cannot be allowed to remain in the marquis mansion. If it really is Shuoyao…” He pressed his temples, feeling quite troubled.

Xiao Du quickly said: “Father, don’t worry too much. Even if it really is her, whatever consequences she faces would be her own doing. Assistant Minister Wang has no reason to blame us for it.”

The Old Marquis looked up at him: “At this point, you should understand better than anyone the implications involved. Your decisions relate to the safety of the marquis mansion and the Xiao family army—not the slightest error can be tolerated.”

Xiao Du nodded gravely, discussed a few more matters, then bowed respectfully before withdrawing. Under the bridge, water rippled, and dense bamboo leaves created shade overhead, yet his heart could find no moment of peace: Rong Qiao’s death, the true culprit behind it all, Yuanxi’s identity, Xia Mingyuan’s purpose… everything seemed shrouded in mist before his eyes, impossible to fathom. Moreover, he had an increasingly strong feeling that someone seemed to be hiding in the shadows, secretly observing his every move. That day, just after Luo Yuan had reminded him that Concubine Wang might be problematic, Yuanxi had an incident—could this really be mere coincidence? He looked up at the somewhat glaring sunlight ahead, gathered his scattered thoughts, and decided to start investigating from Rong Qiao’s corpse. Only by understanding her death could he comprehend the truth behind everything.

He thus headed toward the secret room where Rong Qiao’s body was kept. Just reaching the corridor, he saw Yuanxi standing at the door from afar, saying something to the guard. He walked forward and asked: “What’s the matter?”

The servant, seeing his arrival, breathed a sigh of relief: “Madam insists on going in, but the Marquis ordered that no one be allowed inside. This servant is truly in a difficult position.” Yuanxi’s heart knot remained unresolved, and seeing him made her somewhat uncomfortable. She turned to leave but was held back by Xiao Du, who said gently: “Let’s go in together.”

Yuanxi felt some joy in her heart but was unwilling to show weakness to him, only lowering her head and pouting as she muttered softly: “No need to guard against me anymore?” Who knew Xiao Du had excellent hearing and caught every word, immediately amused by her daughter-like petulant expression. He gently took her hand and leaned close to her ear, whispering: “This morning, who was it that said I was the person she would entrust her life to? Has she changed her mind so quickly?” Yuanxi’s face reddened as she pushed him away, but the anger in her heart gradually dissolved.

The servant stood dumbly to one side, unsure whether to look or not, thinking silently: The Marquis and Madam truly have unique interests, choosing to flirt and banter not in some pleasant location but running to this corpse-storage place for their tender moments. Just then, Xiao Du glanced at him sideways: “You don’t need to guard here anymore. Wait outside until I call you again.” The servant quickly ran outside, thoughtfully closing the door tightly. Yuanxi, unaware of the strange images forming in his mind, was immediately drawn to the corpse on the long table.

Because the weather was extremely hot, to prevent the body from decomposing, many ice blocks had been placed under the long table. Cold air swirled around, slowly seeping into their bones, clearly distinct from the heat and noise outside, separating the worlds of life and death. Yuanxi saw Rong Qiao’s once-beautiful eyes now staring lifelessly upward, as if harboring countless grievances to voice. Her heart felt both sour and angry as she suddenly walked over and grasped the corpse’s cheeks.

Xiao Du’s eyes widened. Before he could stop her, he saw Yuanxi pry open the corpse’s mouth, with Rong Qiao’s tongue, now turned dark blue, extending right beside her hand. He couldn’t help but look at his wife with admiration. Yuanxi was completely oblivious, only staring at the throat and asking: “Why do you think she didn’t call for help at the time?”

Xiao Du frowned: “You think she was poisoned mute?”

Yuanxi nodded, then pulled open the clothing to examine carefully: “There are binding marks on her wrists, and ligature marks at her temples. I think she must have been imprisoned somewhere before, unable to move and somehow rendered mute.”

Xiao Du continued: “Then why would the killer risk bringing her to Yunniang’s courtyard to kill her, instead of fearing discovery?”

Yuanxi thought for a moment: “Perhaps the killer didn’t want us to know where Rong Qiao had been imprisoned, and I always feel that place should be not far from Yunniang’s residence.” She paused, then continued: “That day, everyone in the mansion went to great lengths to find me. After I returned to the mansion, naturally everyone thought all was well and wouldn’t expect another incident so soon.” Xiao Du’s face darkened: “You’re saying Rong Qiao was always imprisoned within the mansion, and the killer deliberately waited until everyone relaxed their guard before releasing and killing her.” If so, this whole affair might have been a setup from the moment Yuanxi was abducted, with the mastermind planning every link. What exactly were they after?

Yuanxi didn’t answer him, only pondered repeatedly in her mind before asking: “What do you think was the weapon that killed Rong Qiao?” Xiao Du also began thinking: Human neck bones are extremely hard. To sever them without obstruction would require a blade that cuts iron like mud, and the wielder would need tremendous skill. How could such a person exist in the mansion, and how could such a weapon be hidden?

The two looked at each other, momentarily at a loss for clues, and the room fell into silence. After a while, Xiao Du spoke: “In the past when leading troops, if enemy formations were difficult to break through, I would use sand table exercises in camp to find the key points. Why don’t we try deducing this matter as well?”

Yuanxi nodded, feeling this was a feasible method, so they began speculating from when Rong Qiao was captured: When Xiao Du led people to rescue Yuanxi, the mansion was in chaos, and the killer took the opportunity to hide her in some secluded, secret place within the mansion. Until late at night, that person released Rong Qiao for unknown reasons. At this point, Yuanxi suddenly said softly: “I think Rong Qiao ran into Yunniang’s courtyard herself.” Hearing this, many key points became clear to Xiao Du, slowly forming a clear picture in his mind: Rong Qiao’s feet were bare and covered with mud and wounds from walking barefoot through bushes. If the killer had brought her to Yunniang’s courtyard, she couldn’t have avoided struggling, and dragging a living person through the courtyard would be difficult to do silently. He suddenly understood, exclaiming excitedly: “I know why she died in Yunniang’s courtyard! You said she had ligature marks at her temples—she must have been blindfolded throughout her imprisonment until the killer brought her out. That place should be not far from Yunniang’s courtyard, and Yunniang habitually sleeps with a lamp burning. After being in darkness for so long, when suddenly freed, Rong Qiao would naturally run desperately toward any light source, hoping to find someone to save her.”

Yuanxi immediately looked up at him approvingly, finding this reasoning very sound. Xiao Du felt quite pleased with her gaze and couldn’t help but proudly lift his chin. But Yuanxi’s expression grew serious again: “If that’s the case, the killer must be someone very familiar with Yunniang’s habits. In this mansion, how many people know Yunniang?” Xiao Du also sobered, realizing that Yunniang had been involved in an incident five years ago and had stayed in this remote courtyard ever since, rarely appearing. Only someone who had been in the mansion all along would be so familiar with her habits, making Concubine Wang even more suspicious.

He thought further but remained puzzled: “If she ran into Yunniang’s courtyard herself, how did the killer manage to kill her?” Even with a blade that cuts iron like mud, killing someone desperately fighting for survival without making any sound would be absolutely impossible.

Yuanxi also frowned, carefully examining the severed area of the neck, when she suddenly exclaimed: “It wasn’t a blade—it was wire!” She looked up, her eyes brightening: “Rong Qiao was desperate to survive and would have run forward recklessly. It was late at night, and the killer only needed to tie an extremely thin wire at the appropriate height along her necessary path—it wouldn’t be detected. As long as she ran fast enough into that wire, her neck would be severed. Then the killer only needed to cut the wire and take it away to leave without a trace.”

Xiao Du imagined the scene of Rong Qiao’s head flying off as she ran, feeling chills down his spine: “Could a single wire really sever her neck?” Yuanxi nodded: “I once read a book saying that the force generated by extremely thin wire is no less than any precious blade—it only requires speed and ruthlessness.”

Having deduced this possibility, they immediately went to Yunniang’s courtyard to verify. The blood from that night had long dried, but they found deep embedding marks on a nearby tree trunk. Seeing their speculation was correct, they couldn’t help but smile at each other. Xiao Du looked around: “The room where Rong Qiao was imprisoned must be not far from here. Since the killer devised this method, they must have chosen the location in advance, ensuring she could see the lights in Yunniang’s courtyard after walking just a short distance, and the running distance couldn’t be too far, or she might have been discovered.”

Yuanxi nodded, suddenly pointing to a stain on the tree: “What’s this?” Xiao Du saw black powder stuck to the tree but couldn’t be certain what it was. Just then he saw Xi Qiao helping Yunniang walk out, so he called her over to ask. Xi Qiao touched it with her hand, then examined it closely: “This is soot from cooking stoves.” Xiao Du suddenly understood and immediately had the servants thoroughly search all abandoned houses within a few li that had once served as kitchens. Yuanxi, seeing the real culprit was within reach, felt both relieved and joyful. Turning around, she saw Xiao Du with an expression of wanting to speak but holding back, so she looked at him curiously.

Xiao Du coughed lightly and gestured to the side. Xi Qiao tactfully helped Yunniang walk away. He stared at Yuanxi for a long time before finally speaking: “The affairs of the marquis mansion are more complex than you imagine. The responsibilities entrusted to me don’t allow me to trust anyone casually. You… can you understand?” Yuanxi was stunned, never expecting him to speak so honestly to her. She lowered her head without speaking but silently took his hand. Xiao Du’s heart filled with tenderness, suddenly remembering what these hands had just touched. His eyes widened as he struggled internally but ultimately let her hold his hand, making a pained expression as they walked outside. Yunniang stood at the window, watching their shadows overlap closely behind them, suddenly grinned and smiled.

Because the area was small, the servants quickly found the kitchen that had once imprisoned Rong Qiao. From the dust on the ground, there were obvious signs of someone having struggled, but they couldn’t find any clues about the killer—only discovering a torn piece of clothing in the woodpile with several strange drops of blood on it. Yuanxi stared at this fabric fragment for a long time, knowing it must be some kind of message Rong Qiao wanted to convey to her, but she really couldn’t figure out what it was.

Her head began to ache from thinking, so she had An’he take her to the courtyard for some fresh air. Just as they reached the lotus pond, she suddenly felt unsteady and nearly fell inward. At that moment, a black shadow quickly rushed to her side, preparing to catch her, but discovered Yuanxi had already steadied herself. Her face showed no trace of panic as she secretly observed him, asking: “Are you the hidden guard he found for me?”

The hidden guard had never been scrutinized by two women before, so he nodded awkwardly. Yuanxi tilted her head thoughtfully and gave An’he a meaningful look. An’he then asked as previously instructed: “Does being a hidden guard mean you’ll do whatever Madam asks you to do?”

The hidden guard straightened his chest: “My responsibility is to protect Madam’s safety.” An’he continued: “Then Madam has something she wants you to help with now—something that concerns Madam’s safety.” The hidden guard’s eyes widened, not understanding what they were trying to do. Yuanxi instructed An’he to bring several account books and a piece of paper. The hidden guard took the paper, but after reading it became even more puzzled, not understanding why he was being asked to handle this matter. He saw Yuanxi whisper something to An’he, who then smiled at him: “Madam says you should just do this task. She’ll ensure her own safety. Otherwise, she’ll immediately jump into the pond, and I’ll go tell the Marquis you failed in your protection.” The hidden guard’s face darkened. This mistress appeared delicate and timid, yet somehow had ways to make refusal impossible. With a pained expression, he accepted Yuanxi’s assignment and dutifully went to carry it out.

Two days later, the Great Heat had just passed, and the almanac indicated it was auspicious for accepting betrothal gifts. Concubine Wang changed into a pink silk jacket with floral trim and had her maid arrange her hair in a Lingyun style, then adorned herself with a full set of jewelry. In the mirror, joy colored her features, making her face as lovely as peach blossoms. She opened her makeup case and found a pair of translucent jade earrings, gazing at them for a long time with slightly moist eyes, silently thinking: “Brother, I’ve finally waited for this day.”

She recalled many years ago, the day before she was sent to the marquis mansion, when her brother placed these earrings in her palm with a guilt-ridden expression: “Little sister, I’m sorry to put you through this.” She had smiled and shaken her head. She knew her brother’s literary and military talents were no less than others’, but lacking recommendations, he could only serve as the lowest-ranking military officer. He needed the marquis mansion’s support to fulfill his ambitions, so even if it meant being a concubine, she was willing to help her brother curry favor with the most favored marquis.

She had once waited with anticipation for the legendary brave and skilled Marquis Xuanyuan—after all, he was the man she would depend on for life. But when she first saw how he looked at her, she understood she could never occupy any place in his heart, because his heart already held someone, though she never understood who that person was.

But she didn’t mind. She never hoped to gain the master’s favor, only wished to bear a child or two to secure her position in the mansion. Until her youngest son was born, until she experienced many things, hatred slowly took root, growing deeper like tangled vines. She began learning how to please and scheme, firmly grasping the household management in her hands. Since that person didn’t want it herself, how could she easily let it go? Fortunately, her brother gained favor from two emperors, continuously achieving military merit and rising in rank. She and her brother supported each other, and her niece from her natal family married gloriously into the marquis mansion. The Wang family was finally no longer that merchant family looked down upon by others. But she knew all too well that as long as her status remained that of a concubine, everything she now possessed was like flowers in a mirror or the moon’s reflection in water—it could slip away from her hands at any moment.

Today, she had finally reached this step, no longer just that person’s servant. Thinking of this, her gaze grew cold, and the face in the mirror gradually blurred, suddenly transforming into Madam Zhao’s cold and slightly mocking countenance. She violently threw the bronze mirror to the ground, her heart filled with hatred. The maid behind her was startled and quickly bent to pick up the mirror, accidentally sweeping the rouge from the makeup table to the floor. Bright red powder scattered everywhere.

The maid was so frightened she nearly cried and quickly knelt to apologize. Concubine Wang’s expression changed, but she finally forced a smile: “Today is a good day. I don’t want to punish anyone. Just clean this up quickly.”

The maid thanked her repeatedly and began cleaning up the mess. Concubine Wang, supported by another maid’s hand, walked to the doorway. Looking back at the bright red scattered on the floor, she suddenly felt feverish. She took a deep breath, loosened her collar, and walked gracefully toward the main hall.

The hall was already filled with many seated and standing people. Though it was just a simple ceremony, it had been carefully arranged and appeared quite festive. The Old Marquis and Madam Zhao sat at the head, with Xiao Du, Yuanxi and other juniors below them, followed by specially invited guests and clan relatives. The rarely-seen Concubine Cai stood behind the master, still wearing her usual expression of indifference and compliance, as if this scene had nothing to do with her. Beside the Old Marquis sat another person in crimson robes with a jade belt, square-faced and broad-shouldered, his dark face bearing some official authority—it was Assistant Minister of War Wang Shoucheng, who had specially come.

Seeing him, tears uncontrollably welled up in Concubine Wang’s eyes. She quickly approached to pay respects, trembling as she called: “Brother!” Wang Shoucheng also showed excitement but couldn’t rise, only silently wiping his eyes and nodding to her, conveying everything in their mutual gaze.

Xiao Du observed coldly, standing up: “Today is Concubine Wang’s great day. I specially had Steward Zhou prepare some congratulatory gifts.” He clapped his hands, and Zhou Jingyuan led someone carrying trunks into the room. Concubine Wang was initially smiling, but when she clearly saw who was carrying the trunk, she suddenly stared wide-eyed and cried out: “How are you here!”

The trunk-bearer raised his head—it was Liu Song, the estate manager from that day. Xiao Du said: “Seeing that Concubine Wang and Manager Liu have been acquainted for many years, I specially called him to congratulate you. Is there something improper about this?” Concubine Wang finally recovered from her shock, smoothed her hair, and forced a smile: “The Marquis jests. Manager Liu and I only have some dealings during monthly accounting—we’re not that familiar.”

“Not familiar?” Xiao Du smiled, walking to the trembling Liu Song’s side, saying word by word: “Why don’t you let Manager Liu explain whether these congratulatory gifts go through the marquis mansion’s official accounts or Concubine Wang’s private accounts?” Liu Song was thunderstruck, his legs gave way and he knelt down. Concubine Wang’s face turned deathly pale as she shrilly cried: “Without evidence, how can the Marquis make such accusations!”

Xiao Du said nothing more, only looking toward Yuanxi. Yuanxi sighed and stood up: “Concubine Wang knew I didn’t understand accounting, so she confidently gave me false books from the estate. But after reading them several times, I always felt something was wrong. Later I realized that crop yields should be affected by natural disasters, but despite a full month of drought last year, the accounts showed no changes whatsoever, indicating these records were falsified. But fearing I might be mistaken, I didn’t dare make a fuss and secretly had someone investigate. The result showed that part of the estate’s land had been secretly subleased to other tenants, and the collected rent was then loaned out under the marquis mansion’s name—none of this was recorded in the books.”

Concubine Wang stared at her with astonished eyes that gradually turned venomous. She never imagined she would fall to this inexperienced girl’s hands. She couldn’t help but step back, thinking how to explain, when Xiao Du spoke again: “So can Concubine Wang tell me where exactly these private funds were used? To whom were they given?” As he spoke, his gaze drifted toward Wang Shoucheng. Wang Shoucheng, still in shock, shuddered under the stare and couldn’t help standing up angrily: “What does the Marquis mean by this? Since Shuoyao entered your marquis mansion, she hasn’t returned home even once. Do you suspect the Wang family embezzled this money?”

Xiao Du replied unhurriedly: “Why is Assistant Minister Wang so quick to distance himself? Since Concubine Wang set up private accounts, she must have separate books recording them. I believe we need only search her room to find them. And Assistant Minister Wang, you’ve risen rapidly these years, spending generously on favors above and below. I wonder where that silver came from?”

Wang Shoucheng was rendered speechless, his face extremely ugly as he slumped back into his chair. Concubine Wang finally understood, surveying the hall with a cold smile: “I see. So elevating me to secondary consort was just a trap. You wanted to force me to confess in front of everyone and implicate my brother as witness to his disgrace. How ruthless, how ruthless…” Her eyes showed despair as she could no longer maintain her composure, bending over and crying: “Yes, I did it! I set up private accounts! But it has nothing to do with my brother—you all forced me to this! It was you! It was you!” She pointed at the Old Marquis, then at Madam Zhao who had been watching everything coldly, suddenly staring wide-eyed: “It was you! You arranged this scheme! All these years, you haven’t harmed me enough—you have to drive me to desperation to be satisfied!”

Madam Zhao glanced down at her disdainfully, then couldn’t be bothered to look anymore, slowly picking up her teacup for a light sip. Xiao Yunjing then shouted loudly: “Enough! If you had only hidden some private funds, considering your years of service in the mansion and my friendship with Brother Wang, we wouldn’t have made things difficult for you. But who could have imagined that to cover up your shameful deeds, you would commit such an outrageous act as plotting against the main wife!”

Concubine Wang raised her tear-filled eyes, staring blankly at him. After a while, she said: “Plot against the main wife? When did I plot against anyone?”

Xiao Du stepped forward, his expression dark: “Still trying to deny it? Seeing that I had Yuanxi help you with the accounts, you feared she would discover the irregularities. First you made things difficult for her, then seeing you couldn’t delay any longer, you gave her false account books. Who knew she would take it seriously and want to inspect the estate personally? Fearing she would see too much and expose your ugly deeds, you bribed Rong Qiao to poison the lamp oil. When by chance Yuanxi didn’t die, you feared Rong Qiao might accidentally reveal the truth, so you decided to silence her permanently!”

Concubine Wang’s hair was disheveled as she shook her head violently, shrieking: “I didn’t! I never tried to kill anyone—don’t slander me!”

Yuanxi then pulled out a cloth strip from her robes, on which delicate handwriting had recorded a line of small characters. Thinking of the person who wrote this, her tone became unprecedentedly angry: “Originally Rong Qiao felt guilty, but she didn’t dare tell me the truth directly. She only dared confess on this cloth strip that you gave her a packet of medicinal powder to secretly put in the lamp oil, then secretly sewed this strip into my shoe. Who knew you would be so heartless as to kill her? Fortunately, she secretly left a message before dying. I thought about it for a long time before understanding—she used blood to draw a plum blossom on her clothing corner, telling me that something was hidden in the plum blossom-patterned shoe face she had embroidered for me days before.”

Concubine Wang was somewhat stunned by her words but quickly began shaking her head desperately, loudly defending herself: “It’s not like that! I did have Rong Qiao add something to your lamp oil, but it was only some sleeping powder—I only wanted to frighten you so you wouldn’t dare stay at the estate. But I never had her use poison, and I don’t know how she died! You have no evidence—don’t try to frame me for murder!”

Seeing her resolute expression, Yuanxi suddenly began to doubt. She remembered the last time she saw Rong Qiao, who had said tearfully: “I didn’t know at the time that it was…” Something flashed through her mind, but she couldn’t grasp it. Just then someone hurried in, handed something to Xiao Du and said something to him. Xiao Du looked at what was in his hand and smiled coldly: “You say it wasn’t you—then why was this unused green stone powder found in your room?”

Concubine Wang stared blankly at what he held, her eyes showing both shock and anger. With bloodshot eyes, she gritted her teeth and shouted: “So that’s how it is—you arranged everything in advance to deliberately frame me. You just want me dead…”

Her gaze defeated, she removed the ornaments from her head and body one by one, throwing them on the ground. Her eyes swept toward the door, sliding across the roof tiles bathed in warm sunlight. This was the place where she had spent her entire first half of life. She had once harbored so many hopes, struggled so much, yet in this moment it was all trampled underfoot. It turned out her life was utterly worthless! Thinking this, she covered her face and let out a desperate howl.

At this moment, Xiao Qing could bear it no longer and rushed out to embrace her, no longer avoiding calling loudly: “Mother!” Concubine Wang gently touched his head, tears flowing uncontrollably: “Mother is sorry—I couldn’t protect you. All Mother can do now is not drag you down anymore.” Her throat choked with emotion, unable to continue.

Wang Shoucheng then stood up, bowing deeply to Xiao Yunjing and speaking humbly: “It’s my incompetence that allowed my sister to make such a grave mistake. May I beg Brother Xiao, for the sake of our years of friendship, to spare her life?”

Xiao Yunjing and Xiao Du exchanged glances, both showing some hesitation. Yuanxi secretly breathed a sigh of relief—the more she thought about it, the more something felt wrong, but fortunately this matter could still be salvaged. Just then, someone hurried in from outside, angrily rebuking: “Does the Old Marquis intend to conspire with others to protect the criminal who tried to harm my daughter?”

Everyone was startled by this shout. Xia Mingyuan stood in the center with an iron-blue face, raising his chin: “Fortunately I’ve brought people from Shuntian Prefecture. I heard everything clearly just now—the evidence and perpetrator are both present. If Assistant Minister Wang still wants to shield his sister, he risks being branded as knowing the law but breaking it!”

Wang Shoucheng knew the situation was irreversible and could only sigh inwardly, glaring fiercely at Xiao Yunjing: “Who would have thought that to convict my sister, your marquis mansion would go so far as to involve Chancellor Xia. It seems you’ve indeed made a good marriage alliance.”

Xiao Du frowned, not expecting Xia Mingyuan’s move to be so vicious. Just as he was thinking how to resolve this, Xia Mingyuan had already sent people in to drag away Concubine Wang, who knelt on the ground. Concubine Wang gripped Xiao Qing’s hand tightly, her eyes showing desperate resolve. She stared intensely at Madam Zhao sitting high above, swaying as she stood up: “Officers, could you wait a moment? I have something more to say.”

The men looked at each other uncertainly, not knowing how to respond, when Concubine Wang suddenly stepped forward several paces, pointing at Madam Zhao and laughing maniacally: “Do you think you’ve won? You never imagined I would know your biggest secret. Today I’ll let everyone know that you…”

“Silence!” Xiao Yunjing rushed over and slapped Concubine Wang to the ground. Concubine Wang held her face as she fell, but having decided to fight to mutual destruction, she ignored everything and tried to speak again. Xiao Yunjing quickly grabbed her clothing and dragged her close, gritting his teeth as he whispered in her ear: “If you still want your son to live, shut your mouth immediately.”

Concubine Wang looked up at Xiao Yunjing in disbelief, the shock in her eyes gradually turning to sorrow, and finally only emptiness remained…