Unable to suppress the fury in his heart, he actually forgot to turn back and ask Old Madam Xiang how she had obtained this information. He brushed off Concubine Bai and stormed angrily toward Song Linlang’s courtyard once more.

In his anger, his strength was certainly not insignificant. The young maid nearby was scared out of her wits and hurriedly caught hold of the continuously retreating Concubine Bai, unable to stop herself from muttering complaints: “Concubine is far too kind-hearted, specially coming to plead on Madam’s behalf. Madam certainly won’t appreciate this favor of yours. Look—Young Master Lian has been ill for so long, yet she hasn’t even come to look in on him once. If you ask me, the master should give her a good beating—then she’d behave. In our village, all those great men deal with their shrewish wives just like this.”

Concubine Bai couldn’t help but laugh, reaching out to tap her forehead lightly: “What do you know?”

How could one deal with a cultured scholar like Xiang Yunzhang by being shrewish and fierce? Warming his ink with fragrant sleeves, being pitifully delicate and understanding—those were the killing moves. Just look—no matter how noble Song Linlang’s status, hadn’t she been retreating step by step under her tender offensive?

She mustered her energy to support her waist and comfortably descended the steps, returning to her room in high spirits all the way. She directly took up her brush and wrote a letter, having the young maid send it out to the gatehouse: “You must deliver this letter into Old Madam’s hands back home. With trouble about to break out, how can we manage without an elder present?”

Without Old Madam Xiang as the shit-stirring stick, how could the waters be muddied? How could Old Madam Song make a scene, and how could Xiang Yunzhang and Song Linlang completely sever their relationship?

The young maid couldn’t help but sigh at the concubine’s kind heart, and reluctantly turned to take the letter and ran off.

Xiang Lian heard the commotion and came out with a pale face. Seeing this, he impatiently leaned back against the couch and stretched lazily, feeling his waist and back ache: “Lying and lying and lying—I’m practically becoming a cripple. When can I finally stop pretending this illness?”

Concubine Bai laughed genuinely and lovingly personally brought over ginseng soup to feed him, coaxing and persuading him about the benefits: “Of course after that Madam who’s always feeling unwell leaves! Don’t worry, it won’t be much longer.”

Xiang Lian couldn’t help but look toward his birth mother. She smiled radiantly, her eyes rippling with captivating light as she glanced about—breathtakingly beautiful, simply like a fairy descended from a painting. Just looking at her made one unable to resist softening.

With such outstanding appearance and beauty, plus the acting skills cultivated since childhood, her ability to change expressions and play the obedient role was first-rate. No wonder she could force the legitimate daughter of the Changning Earl’s residence into such a desperate situation.

Xiang Lian was only ten years old at this moment, but having been immersed in this environment since childhood, he had learned Concubine Bai’s skills perfectly naturally. He didn’t make a fuss now either, obediently drinking the ginseng soup before asking her: “The Old Madam of Changning Earl’s residence sounds like a formidable person. Are you truly not afraid?”

Afraid? Why should she be afraid?

Whose side a man’s heart leaned toward was a matter of ability. If Song Linlang couldn’t hold onto her husband’s heart, who could she blame?

On the surface, she was the most magnanimous and virtuous person possible. She had never made things difficult for this Madam, and had earnestly advised Xiang Yunzhang to be considerate of his wife—it was just that Xiang Yunzhang wouldn’t listen.

Could anyone possibly uncover the matter of the witch doctor? How many witch doctors had been entrenched in Qingzhou since ancient times? These witch doctors in this place were practically like temple deities—what did they say that people wouldn’t believe? Old Madam Song might be capable, but would she dare touch a witch doctor? Just watch as the citizens of Qingzhou city would tear her apart!

Concubine Bai leisurely crossed her legs, using her orchid fingers to pick up a candied fruit and toss it into her mouth: “If I were afraid, I wouldn’t have exhausted all means to climb into your father’s bed back then. Since I had the ability to climb into this bed, I can sleep soundly in it. Rest assured.”

Xiang Lian couldn’t help but swallow and turn his head away, yet unable to suppress his curiosity in his heart, he asked her: “What did you just go do?”

Speaking of this, Concubine Bai laughed even more joyfully, shaking her finger with infinite charm: “Naturally I went to stir up trouble. Before that killing god Old Madam Song arrives, if that girl Xiang Mingzi meets with misfortune and Song Linlang is angered half to death, then the good show can truly be staged. When the time comes and Old Madam Song takes her withered flower of a daughter and gets lost, won’t everything in this prefect’s yamen’s rear courtyard be under our control?”

Concubine Bai truly understood Xiang Yunzhang’s thoughts incomparably thoroughly. Xiang Yunzhang stood before the courtyard gate, his heart filled with nothing but pain and resentment as he finally watched the courtyard gate being rammed open blow by blow.

Inside, Nanny Zheng and Nanny Wang called over some sturdier old women and maids to block the gate. The two of them stood at the doorway like two door gods, coldly watching the outside.

Song Linlang huddled in her room, feeling that every single organ—heart, liver, spleen, lungs, and kidneys—was in pain. In her extreme anger, she suddenly spat out a mouthful of blood.

This was the person she had thought of day and night, the one she had loved. This was the good husband she had knelt before her parents and brothers to beg for—constantly taking concubines, and after having sons still not stopping, insisting on forcing her daughter to die in place of his son, this good husband.

Having reached this point, any talk of love or hate had already become hollow. Her heart now could no longer stir up any waves—apart from numbness, nothing remained.

She listened to Xiang Yunzhang wailing and cursing outside, yet couldn’t muster even a bit of spirit to respond, only cold laughter.

Xiang Yunzhang denounced her for not respecting her mother-in-law and being unable to bear children, denounced her for giving birth to a disaster star who brought misfortune to his son and his mother, as if talking about a complete stranger.

He had already forgotten how Old Madam Xiang had gradually subjected her to harsh criticism bit by bit, how she had given them mother and daughter the cold shoulder, and how she had nibbled away at her dowry. He had forgotten even more from where the money had come when he went to the Ministry of Personnel to report on his duties, to give gifts and smooth relationships, and from where the money had come to return home in glory.

People always easily forgot others’ kindness and only remembered others’ wrongs. If there was anyone to blame, she could only blame herself for being blind and seeing the wrong person.

Yun He sat beside her, her body trembling, yet still forcing herself to remain composed as she consoled Song Linlang: “No matter how great the matter, once our family’s Old Madam arrives, it can be resolved. Miss must not grieve over this matter any longer.”

Yun He had a straightforward nature—Song Linlang knew this. She patted her hand to show comfort: “Don’t worry. If even now I still didn’t know this, I wouldn’t count as a Song family member. I only feel sorry for you and Yun Shang—already married out, yet still having to rush about everywhere for my affairs, on edge here.”

Yun He brought forward the soup in her hand, feeding Song Linlang spoonful by spoonful. That bloodstained handkerchief seemed to be casually tossed out the window as she spoke in a flat tone without much inflection but with extremely high volume: “Miss speaks thus—Miss treated us so well back then, we all have consciences. Only those without conscience, rotten to the core, would only remember grudges and not kindness, forcing their legitimate wife to vomit blood over a concubine-born son. I wonder if this matter spreads, will those censors be able to remain unmoved and just watch!”

Her words came rapidly and urgently, falling like raindrops on Xiang Yunzhang’s face, making him feel inexplicably somewhat guilty for a moment.