“You’re saying that woman was pregnant! Why do you think so?” Xiaozhai asked, shocked, as she pressed for more information.
“Look here!” Yuanxi pulled out the ledger from the princess’s room and compared it item by item. “Danshen, Fushen, Danggui—according to the imperial physician, these are used for regulating the body, and these are used for soothing the body.” She couldn’t help but take a deep breath. “Not only was that woman pregnant, but her pregnancy may have been similar to the princess’s, given they both used the same prescription for prenatal care.”
Frowning, Xiaozhai asked, “Who is this woman? And what does she have to do with Lady Yun?” Then, a look of realization crossed her face, and she added hesitantly, “Sister-in-law, do you think she could be related to Father…”
Shaking her head, Yuanxi tightly clenched the papers in her hand, her doubts growing. For a while, the room was eerily quiet, except for the occasional crackle of the candle flame, stirring their thoughts.
Finally, Yuanxi spoke again, “There are many possibilities in this matter, and we shouldn’t jump to conclusions. I believe the only way forward is to find the house where your elder brother was born. The truth may lie there. Do you remember? Aunt Fang mentioned a red house adorned with many lanterns. Xiaozhai, does the Marquis’s Mansion have an estate painted in red?”
Xiaozhai thought carefully, then shook her head in confusion. “How could there be such a strange estate? I’ve never heard of it, nor seen it.”
“It’s not entirely red. What could that red house signify?” Yuanxi sighed in frustration, realizing that their hopes were slim with just that vague clue. However, unwilling to let the lead slip away, she stood up, accidentally tripping over the table leg. Xiaozhai rushed to steady her. “Be careful outside at night; it’s hard to see.”
Startled, Yuanxi suddenly remembered something and turned back. “Aunt Fang couldn’t see, so how would she know the houses were all red?”
Xiaozhai also recognized the inconsistency. “Right! Maybe she heard it from someone else?”
Yuanxi, gazing out the window where the night was as dark as ink, saw the lanterns swaying under the eaves, emitting a faint red glow in the darkness.
She turned back to Xiaozhai. “What do you think a blind person imagines as red in their mind?” Without waiting for Xiaozhai’s response, she continued, “It could be red fire, red flowers, red lanterns, and… blood.” Xiaozhai’s eyes widened at the thought, shivering involuntarily. Yuanxi added, “Perhaps she also smelled the scent of blood.”
Looking at each other with similar expressions of shock and confusion, Yuanxi approached Xiaozhai, taking her trembling hand in hers. “Regardless, let’s first find that estate. I believe we’ll find some answers there.”
So, armed with these clues, they immediately began their search. Although the Marquis’s Mansion had many properties, finding one in the capital that matched these criteria wasn’t difficult. Soon, they found an estate that closely resembled the clues. Qingxin Garden, a property bestowed upon the former Marquis by the late emperor, was situated in a unique location in the center of Autumn Leaf Lake, surrounded by water on all sides. It exuded an air of tranquility as if floating on the water. The garden was adorned with exotic flowers, said to bloom even indoors. Strangely, there had been no expenditures recorded for Qingxin Garden in the past twenty years, despite the expectation that such an estate would have personnel managing it. However, there were no records of any staff or expenses, as if it had never existed.
Closing the ledger, Yuanxi couldn’t help but wonder: what kind of estate was this? But she didn’t have to wait long, as the next day she and Xiaozhai went to Qingxin Garden.
The lake shimmered with azure ripples, and a gentle breeze brushed their faces as they stood before the grand estate. However, it had lost its former splendor. The courtyard was overrun with withered flowers and overgrown weeds. The lanterns hanging under the eaves were dilapidated, their once-red exteriors now decayed, leaving only empty frames swaying in the wind.
Yuanxi’s gaze shifted from the bare lantern frames, sensing an uncomfortable atmosphere permeating the courtyard. She couldn’t pinpoint the source of this unease, but she instinctively hugged herself, feeling a chill in the air.
Xiaozhai held her hand, trembling, and asked, “Are you sure this is the place? It’s already like this; can we find anything now?”
Glancing around uncertainly, Yuanxi replied, “I’m not sure. How about we start by searching each room?”
So, they proceeded to open many doors, only to find that besides the evident lack of habitation, there was nothing else unusual. After a while, both of them felt tired and disheartened, their hopes dwindling. Just as they were about to give up, they pushed open another door simultaneously, only to be startled by the bizarre sight inside.
Bells, small clothes, shoes, and bags cluttered the entire room, giving it the appearance of a children’s nursery. But what should have been a cozy space now emitted a musty odor. The cradle was draped with thick curtains, now riddled with holes and layers of cobwebs.
Frowning, Yuanxi felt discomfort in her stomach, noticing Xiaozhai’s expression had turned ashen. Yuanxi gently squeezed her hand to offer comfort before mustering the courage to lift the curtains.
As the dust billowed, both of them started coughing violently. Yuanxi quickly covered her nose and mouth with a handkerchief and squinted at the cradle. However, what she saw made her gasp in shock.
Within the pink cradle lay a dark, lifeless plaque. It bore no inscription but sat solemnly as if it were the master of the room, and they were intruders disturbing its long-standing tranquility.
Xiaozhai took a step forward, her hands covering her mouth in shock, unable to speak. Yuanxi seemed to regain her composure, albeit with a grim expression. “Keep searching! The owner of this plaque may still be in this courtyard!”
Only fifteen years old, Xiaozhai was already overwhelmed by the situation, unable to imagine what else they might uncover. She stood there, biting her nails, her mind in turmoil. Yuanxi, seeing her distress, held her tightly, saying, “We’ve come this far. Do you want to give up now? Don’t you want to uncover the truth about your mother’s death?”
Xiaozhai looked at her, wiping away tears, and finally nodded firmly.
They ventured into the courtyard, each grabbing a stick and scouring the overgrown grass. Finally, Yuanxi stopped at a spot, squatting down to examine it. “Here… it seems like there’s residue from burning joss paper. Do you see?”
Xiaozhai followed her gaze and indeed noticed the yellowish-gray traces in the soil, different from the surrounding earth. She nodded, then asked, “What do we do now?”
Determined, Yuanxi went to fetch a shovel from the woodshed. “You keep watch. I’ll dig.”
Xiaozhai, now devoid of ideas, stood there nervously, biting her lip and watching Yuanxi laboriously lower the shovel for the first time. Though easier said than done, Yuanxi had never done this kind of work before. After a few shovels, blisters formed on her hands, prompting Xiaozhai to tear up, grabbing her and saying, “Let’s give up and go back to the mansion to get help.”
But Yuanxi stubbornly shook her head. “We can’t let anyone know until we figure this out!”
After a short rest, she resumed digging, her slender figure looking frail yet determined against the desolate backdrop of the courtyard.
Finally, the shovel hit something solid. Yuanxi turned to Xiaozhai with a smile of relief, then tossed the shovel aside. They both used sticks to uncover the object further, revealing a mixture of white and red beneath the yellow earth. As the color became clearer, they were momentarily stunned. Yuanxi furrowed her brow, using a stick to gently lift the object, revealing bones and decomposed flesh underneath. A wave of nausea washed over them both, and Yuanxi doubled over, retching violently.
The overpowering stench of decay filled the air as they realized what lay buried beneath—a stillborn infant.