Jiang Si’s innate sensitivity to scents, enhanced by secret techniques learned from the Wu Miao elder, bordered on the miraculous to ordinary people. Even amidst the lush, fragrant peonies, she could detect faint traces of a foul odor permeating the air.
She recognized that smell—it was the stench of decay.
Jiang Si had come to Marquis Chang Xing’s mansion, knowingly venturing into the tiger’s den, to investigate why Chang Xing Marquis’s heir Cao Xingyu and Jiang Qian had committed such an unthinkable act against her. It was a knot in her heart that she needed to unravel and see those who harmed her punished; otherwise, she would never find peace.
Some things can be left in the past, but others must be confronted and resolved to break free from nightmares. So she had come of her own accord, approaching this place and this couple voluntarily.
Though well-prepared, she hadn’t expected to find corpses buried beneath this vibrant peony garden.
Jiang Si unconsciously ground her toe into the soil. The stench of decay had seeped into the earth and even permeated the layered petals of the peonies. This odor couldn’t have formed in just a few days, yet it carried an eerie freshness as if a corpse had been recently buried and stunning peonies had bloomed from its remains.
Jiang Si’s face paled further. By now, she wasn’t afraid, but the waves of putrid smell made her nauseous, and she could barely control the urge to retch.
“Fourth Sister, are you unwell?” Jiang Qiao noticed Jiang Si’s discomfort and shifted her gaze from the beautiful, almost bewitching peonies.
Jiang Si took a deep breath and managed a smile. “I’m fine.”
Jiang Qiao frowned at Jiang Si, casually plucking a peony petal and rubbing it between her fingers. Pale red juice stained Jiang Qiao’s fair fingertips.
Jiang Si’s eyes fell on Jiang Qiao’s hand.
Jiang Qiao tossed the crushed petal into the wind, sniffed her fingertips, and said with a smile, “It’s strange. Though I love peonies, I don’t care for their scent. Fourth Sister, is it the fragrance that’s making you uncomfortable?”
Thinking of the pervasive stench of decay and looking at the faint red on Jiang Qiao’s fingertips, Jiang Si bit her lip hard to suppress her nausea. She forced a smile and said, “Many scents don’t agree with me.”
“Then let’s go. You should have said something earlier; I wouldn’t have brought you here,” Jiang Qiao said. Though they often quarreled at the Earl’s mansion, she naturally drew closer to Jiang Si when outside. Sisters from the same household should look out for each other in public.
Jiang Qiao was outgoing and straightforward but not foolish. She had long sensed something odd in Jiang Qian’s unusual attitude toward Jiang Si.
Jiang Si remained still and changed her tone, “Although many scents bother me, I find the peony fragrance quite pleasant.”
She needed to determine whether human remains or animal carcasses were buried beneath these peonies. To investigate further, she couldn’t tell Jiang Qiao that the peony scent bothered her. Otherwise, approaching this area again would seem suspicious.
“Fourth Sister, tell me, what’s going on between you and Second Sister?” Jiang Qiao glanced at Jiang Qian and the others on the artificial mountain and asked in a low voice.
Seeing Jiang Si’s silence, Jiang Qiao sneered, “You asked her to send Sixth Sister away, and she didn’t even say ‘no.’ It’s too strange. Don’t tell me Second Sister treats you better than her sisters. I’m not a fool.”
After a long silence, Jiang Si gazed at the blooming peonies and sighed softly, “Indeed, I find it strange too. Third Sister, did you know that Second Sister invited me to visit the Marquis’s mansion even before Grandmother’s eyes became ill?”
Jiang Qiao was stunned, growing more curious. They had all received invitations together, unaware that Jiang Qian had invited Jiang Si earlier.
Did this mean the Second Sister had intended to invite Jiang Si all along?
This thought crossed Jiang Qiao’s mind, and she looked at Jiang Si inquiringly.
Jiang Si smiled faintly. “So I wanted to test how sincere Second Sister’s invitation was. I didn’t expect—”
“You didn’t expect Second Sister to be so sincere,” Jiang Qiao finished.
“Yes, very sincere indeed,” Jiang Si said with a mocking smile at the corner of her mouth.
She was determined to expose Jiang Qian and her husband’s hidden misdeeds, so she didn’t mind letting Jiang Qiao glimpse a bit of the truth.
“But why?” Jiang Qiao kicked at fallen petals and leaves, her expression growing more serious. “I can’t help feeling it’s nothing good. Fourth Sister, stay close to me while we’re at the Marquis’s mansion. We’ll leave after a couple of days.”
Though Jiang Si knew Jiang Qiao had a sharp tongue but a soft heart, she hadn’t expected her to set aside their differences so quickly and look out for her. Touched, she demurred, “That’s not necessary. I’m here as an honored guest. Surely Second Sister wouldn’t mistreat me?”
Her plans were too dangerous; she wanted Jiang Qiao to sense something was amiss so she could speak up when the truth was revealed, but she didn’t want to drag her into danger now.
Angered by Jiang Si’s words, Jiang Qiao poked her forehead and snapped, “Are you stupid?”
The young girl’s skin was delicate, and Jiang Qiao’s poke left a red mark on her smooth forehead.
Jiang Qiao opened her mouth, then closed it, kicking at nearby leaves in frustration. She hadn’t realized Jiang Si was so fragile—one touch left a red mark as if she had bullied her.
“Oh—” Jiang Qiao bent down to pick up an object from the ground. “What’s this?”
In Jiang Qiao’s hand was a hairpin gleaming with an antique luster in the sunlight.
“What material is this hairpin made of? It’s neither gold nor silver…” Jiang Qiao examined the hairpin, puzzled.
Jiang Si’s gaze suddenly turned cold.
It was a copper hairpin!
Copper hairpins were common. Ordinary women who loved beauty but couldn’t afford gold or silver hairpins often chose copper, wood, or bamboo as alternatives.
But where were they? This was Marquis Chang Xing’s mansion. Even the well-regarded maids and servants wore gold hairpins gifted by their masters; those of slightly lower status wore silver. The maids and servants who did the hardest, dirtiest work wouldn’t settle for copper hairpins if they didn’t have silver ones—they’d prefer bright, delicate pearl or silk flowers.
Jiang Si’s heart raced as she formed a bold conjecture: if human remains were buried beneath these peonies, could this copper hairpin belong to the victim?
“It seems to be a copper hairpin,” Jiang Qiao finally recognized after examining it.
Just then, a cool, amused voice spoke up: “What are my two dear sisters doing?”
Startled, Jiang Si snatched the copper hairpin from Jiang Qiao’s hand with lightning speed and tucked it into her sleeve.
Not far away, Chang Xing Marquis’s heir Cao Xingyu, dressed in a moon-white robe, stood watching them with a smile.