"My Ling'er, did he truly appear in a dream to you?"
Madam She's voice was trembling as she spoke.
Shen Feiwan lowered her gaze. "Yes, the Heir told me many things."
Her tone was calm, bearing no trace of falsehood.
"Tell me every single detail, word for word." Madam She stared straight into her face. "If there is even a half-lie or an omission, the Yongan Marquis Manor will never tolerate you!"
She fixed her eyes on Shen Feiwan, her gaze full of vicious intent.
Shen Feiwan lowered her head in silence. After a long moment, she spoke again: "The Heir told me in my dream that someone harmed him—someone of his own flesh and blood! That is why he died with such deep resentment."
As her words fell, Xiao Nian'an's face turned ghastly pale.
Especially when he looked up and found Shen Feiwan staring at him with icy eyes.
In a daze, Xiao Nian'an felt as though he were looking at Xiao Ling covered in blood. For a terrifying second, his throat felt as if it were being choked, leaving him unable to breathe!
"Did Eldest Brother truly say that?" Xiao Nian'an deliberately forced a grief-stricken expression. "I will surely unearth the true culprit and avenge Eldest Brother!"
"An'er... Having this heart of yours is enough."
Madam She could no longer bear the agony of losing a son, and the Yongan Marquis Manor needed a man to hold it together.
Therefore, Xiao Nian'an could not afford any more mishaps.
Yet in Shen Feiwan's eyes, this merely showed that even Madam She did not truly believe Xiao Nian'an was capable of avenging Xiao Ling.
Suppressing these thoughts, she spoke once more: "There is no need to trouble the Third Young Master. The Heir said he has his own way; he only requires that the burial be postponed by seven days. Only then can the manor be saved. Otherwise... the Marquis Manor will never know a moment of peace."
Madam She drew in a sharp breath.
Aunt Mei and the others were so terrified they chanted Buddhist mantras repeatedly.
"Madam She, please make a decision!"
"Let us simply do as the Heir says!"
The Marquis Manor had always been propped up by Xiao Ling; even in death, they were willing to obey him.
Madam She clenched her hands together. "But today is the day decreed by the Emperor's edict. How can we possibly..."
If they failed to bury him on time, she feared the imperial court would hold them to account.
"The Heir said we need only bury an empty casket containing his garments first, and the Emperor will not blame us." With that, Shen Feiwan instructed Zhuying to bring out the prepared items. "Mother, the hour is nearly upon us; let us not delay."
In the mourning hall, the music of grief rose once more. Shen Feiwan walked at the very front of the procession, wearing sackcloth and mourning garb for Xiao Ling.
And the true coffin remained securely in place.
Step by step, she walked with absolute steadiness, while her mind replayed everything that had happened the previous night.
Xiao Ling had climbed out of the coffin, covered in wounds. He had slain enemies on the battlefield, only to be stabbed in the back by a trusted confidant.
It was because he had uncovered a plot between factions in the imperial court and the enemy nation that the other party had hatched a murderous intent, knocking him unconscious while wounded, placing him in a coffin, and sending him back to the Yongan Marquis Manor.
On the surface, it appeared to be an act of immense imperial grace, but in reality...
It was a threat held over the lives of everyone in the Yongan Marquis Manor. If he died, he would take those secrets to his grave; if he lived, anyone in the manor who had laid eyes on him would have to die.
This was the Emperor's way of protecting the mastermind behind the scenes.
If Xiao Ling wished to survive, his only chance was to leave the manor unnoticed and later return under the guise of reporting back to the capital—only then might he preserve a glimmer of hope.
Dawn was fast approaching, and his time was running out.
With a dark and indifferent look in his eyes, Xiao Ling instructed his deputy to prepare a fast horse and moved to leave like a gust of wind.
Just before reaching the door, he remembered Shen Feiwan. Being naturally tall and drenched in blood, he turned and strode back toward her.
In that instant, Shen Feiwan felt nothing but pure killing intent.
*Clang.*
A soft sword came to rest against her neck, chillingly cold.
He wanted to find out whether Shen Feiwan was an enemy, or...
Shen Feiwan's heart leapt into her throat.
She could sense that Xiao Ling was neither joking nor trying to scare her; this battle-hardened man was genuinely weighing the pros and cons of whether to kill her.
Given the fractured state of the court, even though their families were allied by marriage, Xiao Ling could not gamble the fate of the Yongan Marquis Manor on Shen Feiwan.
If Minister Shen was a man of the Second Prince, and Shen Feiwan had witnessed him crawling out of the coffin with her own eyes, any leak would spell disaster for the manor!
He had indeed developed the intent to kill.
Beneath his fierce and ruthless gaze, he carefully appraised this newly wedded wife he had parted from right after the wedding ceremony. As rumors had it, she was breathtakingly beautiful.
All the more reason she could not be left alive.
"If the Heir wishes to act, you had best be quick. Dawn is breaking, and soon the place will be swarming with people. It won't be easy to dispose of my corpse."
The coldness in Xiao Ling's brows deepened. She was remarkably sharp, too.
Yet his sword did not budge an inch.
To his surprise, Shen Feiwan's breathing remained entirely steady as she slowly closed her eyes.
"You think I dare not?" Xiao Ling's voice was icy, devoid of any emotion.
"The blade in the Heir's hand has slain tens of thousands, if not thousands, and one more small woman like Feiwan makes little difference. It's just that I cannot fathom why the Heir refuses to seek vengeance on those who plotted against you, and instead insists on silencing a helpless woman like me. It seems the Yongan Marquis Manor has truly reached its end."
Her words struck straight to the heart.
A cold glint flashed in Xiao Ling's eyes, and he withdrew his blade.
He was not such an unprincipled scoundrel.
At that moment, Shen Feiwan was dressed in plain white, her slender and delicate figure easily encircled by an arm, her features nothing less than exquisite.
Under the moonlight, her dark eyes were so chillingly cold that one could not look away.
Throughout his life of campaigning on the battlefield and surviving brushes with death alongside his father and brothers, Xiao Ling had never encountered a woman like Shen Feiwan—clearly terrified, yet forcing herself to stand firm as if life and death were mere wisps of air before her.
A faint light filtered in from outside.
"It's the night watchwoman."
Xiao Ling's deputy drew his sword. "The General's great endeavor comes first; you must not be seen by anyone, otherwise the entire Yongan Marquis Manor will be plunged into damnation!"
With a fierce look in his eyes, the deputy strode toward the doorway.
Once dawn broke, the manor would begin preparing for Xiao Ling's funeral rites. If they didn't leave now, it would truly be too late.
"Stop!"
"The swords in your hands are meant for slaying enemies on the battlefield, not for slaughtering unarmed commoners!"
"Heir, if you walk straight out through the back courtyard, how many innocent eyes will witness this? Do you intend to slaughter them all?"
"They are servants of the manor, not wild dogs from the streets!"
Beside herself with anger, Shen Feiwan declared that if Xiao Ling truly was such a scoundrel incapable of distinguishing friend from foe, she would fight him to the death to stop him.
Without a moment's hesitation, she spread her arms and blocked their path of steel. "If you are bent on having your way, dispose of me along with them! I am a witness, after all."
The deputy anxiously glanced back at Xiao Ling, not daring to make a move.
Xiao Ling fell silent. His heavy gaze rested upon Shen Feiwan, and he signaled the deputy with a hand gesture to halt.
Then, he turned back to look at the coffin. Perhaps it was truly Heaven's will that he should die?
"Eldest Young Mistress, is everything well?" A voice called out from the courtyard behind them.
The servants were already puzzled as to why the doors of the mourning hall, which had clearly been wide open, were now shut. Remembering Madam She's instructions earlier that day, they exchanged glances.
The servant holding the lantern stepped forward and tapped on the door. "Eldest Young Mistress? Are you inside? Is something the matter?"