Yan Sanhe looked at Zhu Weixi with sympathy.

“Geng Songsheng bears the surname Geng. In Zhu Xuanjiu’s eyes, his most fundamental identity was as Madam’s natal family member. Zhu Xuanjiu had no way to deal with or resist the Mao family, so he could only operate on Geng Songsheng to vent his dissatisfaction.”

Zhu Weixi stared blankly at Yan Sanhe.

“The more miserable Geng Songsheng was, the more it meant the Mao family was miserable, and the more excited Zhu Xuanjiu became. This was the silent counterattack of a son-in-law who had long been dominated by his wife’s family.”

Yan Sanhe: “This also explains why he chose Xie Erli, because the Xie family had no connection whatsoever with the Mao family. Xie Erli was very respectful toward Zhu Xuanjiu, and the Xie family never casually came asking for favors. So after the couple married, Zhu Xuanjiu actually valued Xie Erli more. Geng Songsheng was ultimately just an unlucky fool who happened to hit the muzzle of the gun. If he hadn’t had the surname Geng, things would have been different.”

“But Geng Songsheng was genuinely good to sister-in-law.”

Young Master Pei was angry. “Even considering sister-in-law, he shouldn’t have made Geng Songsheng so miserable.”

Yan Sanhe walked in front of Zhu Weixi and supported her arm, helping her stand.

“Look—who does she resemble?”

Zhu Yuanzhao looked deeply at Zhu Weixi. “Eldest Sister resembles Father.”

Yan Sanhe: “Who did Zhu Xuanjiu resemble, Old Steward?”

Old Steward: “The master resembled Concubine Fu.”

Yan Sanhe: “Then, doesn’t Zhu Weixi resemble Concubine Fu?”

“This…”

The old steward’s heart skipped a beat, and his gaze turned toward the Eldest Miss.

Because of the journey to Mount Wutai, Zhu Weixi had become so thin she was skeletal. Her face, already pale to begin with, was now excessively pale.

Add to that what she had just heard—it was like the sky collapsing and earth crumbling. She could barely stand, her entire body leaning weakly against Yan Sanhe.

The old steward felt more alarmed and frightened the more he looked.

This…

This, this…

She was practically Concubine Fu reborn.

“Miss Yan, she resembles her, resembles her extremely.”

The old steward said weakly, “As if carved from the same mold.”

Hearing this, Zhu Weixi’s legs could no longer support her and gave way.

Li Bu Yan was quick with sharp eyes and caught her. “Young Madam, let me take you to the inner room…”

“No… no…”

Zhu Weixi’s voice was so hoarse it was unbearable to hear, but she said with all her strength, “Let me keep listening. I must keep listening!”

Yan Sanhe gave Li Bu Yan a meaningful look.

Li Bu Yan quickly helped Zhu Weixi sit down, extended her long arm, and held the person in her embrace.

The person in her arms was barely alive, fragile as a willow branch that would snap with one fold.

She had thought Geng Songsheng was already the Young Madam’s greatest tribulation, but unexpectedly, an even greater tribulation lay ahead.

Where did Zhu Xuanjiu truly care for her? It was clearly only because she resembled Concubine Fu.

The room was terrifyingly quiet.

The expressions on the faces of the three Zhu brothers were beyond description.

He favored Eldest Sister because of Concubine Fu?

It was actually because of Concubine Fu!!

Yan Sanhe walked back to her seat, picked up her tea bowl, and drank all the tea in one gulp.

Then she set the tea bowl down heavily on the table.

With a “bang,” everyone’s hearts jumped.

“Xie Zhifei?”

Xie Zhifei looked at her. “I’m here.”

Yan Sanhe: “On the road to Jietai Temple, you asked me whether Zhu Xuanjiu, if he detested Madam Mao, might have someone else he liked in his heart?”

Xie Zhifei nodded.

Yes.

He had asked.

He had also said that the osmanthus might be related to the person he liked; otherwise he wouldn’t still be thinking about it while ill.

“I’m telling you now—Zhu Xuanjiu had no one he liked in his heart. Except for himself, he didn’t like anyone.”

Yan Sanhe: “But in his heart, there was someone he depended on, worried about, and couldn’t bear to lose.”

“That person is…”

Xie Zhifei carefully said three words: “Concubine Fu?”

“Yes!”

Yan Sanhe took a deep breath.

“In this world, everyone’s closest relationship is always with their own mother, because we spent over nine months in our mother’s belly. During those nine months, mother and child lived and died together. So we all develop dependence on our mothers. You do, I do, he does too. The only difference is that for some it’s shallower, for some it’s deeper.”

Xie Zhifei: “You mean Zhu Xuanjiu’s was deeper?”

Yan Sanhe looked at him, word by word: “It was extreme dependence, and also abnormal dependence.”

“Pfft—”

Young Master Pei spat out a mouthful of hot tea, spraying half of himself.

He tried to wipe it with his hand while also trying to set down his teacup on the small table. As a result, both his hands and legs were shaking. In his flustered state, the teacup fell to the floor with a “clatter.”

Young Master Pei stared blankly at the teacup shattered on the floor, roaring inside.

Spirit medium, before you say “extreme” and “abnormal,” could you give a warning?!

“Why say extreme, say abnormal?”

Yan Sanhe: “First, because of the Wutong Courtyard.”

Among all the courtyards in the Zhu estate, only the Wutong Courtyard hadn’t been renovated and still retained its original appearance. The master of the Wutong Courtyard was Concubine Fu.”

From the time Concubine Fu entered the Zhu family, she lived in this courtyard in the northwest corner. Until her death, she never changed locations.

Zhu Xuanjiu was born here, spent his childhood, adolescence, married, had children… his long life was all spent here.

“So to Zhu Xuanjiu, the Wutong Courtyard was equivalent to Concubine Fu’s womb. This was his place of greatest security.”

Yan Sanhe: “The Wutong Courtyard also contained the flowers and plants Concubine Fu left behind, various furnishings she left… Only wrapped in these things could he fall asleep.”

Young Master Pei asked with trepidation, “And the second?”

Yan Sanhe: “The second is that chipped teacup.”

Madam casually gave the teacup to her attendant, showing the teacup wasn’t worth much.

Why couldn’t he bear to throw it away?

Why did he often hold it and fondle it?

When did he hold it and fondle it?

“The old steward said when he was troubled and anxious, he would hold it and fondle it.”

Yan Sanhe: “When a person is troubled and anxious, that’s when they lack security. At such times, holding the teacup Concubine Fu used during her lifetime in his hand was equivalent to Concubine Fu silently accompanying him.”

Young Master Pei: “And the third?”

“Third is Zhu Weixi.”

Yan Sanhe: “Zhu Weixi greatly resembles Concubine Fu, so in Zhu Xuanjiu’s heart, she was a substitute for Concubine Fu.”

When Zhu Xuanjiu was young, he felt he lacked the ability to protect Concubine Fu, letting her suffer much grievance and endure much hardship.

Now that he had become family head and grasped power, naturally he had the ability to protect his mother.

So he lavished affection on Zhu Weixi, not letting her suffer even the slightest grievance. That’s why he wouldn’t let Zhu Weixi marry Geng Songsheng.

Because Geng Songsheng represented the Mao family, Madam Mao.

While Zhu Weixi was equivalent to Concubine Fu.

He believed Madam Mao had never treated Concubine Fu as a true mother-in-law, so how could the Mao family treat Zhu Weixi well?

“If you still find the above three points far-fetched, then…”

Yan Sanhe was silent for a moment.

“The osmanthus at Jietai Temple and the osmanthus outside Zhu Weixi’s courtyard—that’s the fourth point.”