"Whoosh!"
Paper money was blown up, stack by stack. In the funeral hall, guests came and went, while Zhang Yuan knelt before the coffin, his grief uncontrollable. The flames in the brazier flared higher and higher, illuminating Zhang Yuan's tear-streaked face. The guests were all deeply moved, sighing at Zhang Yuan's profound devotion.
"Boom!"
The fire flared up high, and a biting wind suddenly lashed against Lingxiao’s face. She had been tailing Xiao Wuji. After watching him enter the Celestial Prison and fail to reappear, she had seen Prince Han—who had not entered the prison—turn his horse around. She wanted to see what the Prince was up to, but never expected him to come to the Zhang Mansion. And the person being mourned at the Zhang Mansion was none other than Song Xiyan.
How ironic. She was witnessing the funeral arrangements made by that dog, Zhang Yuan—the very man who had drained her dry and was now exploiting her even in death!
"My condolences!"
"Try not to grieve too much."
As the guests offered their platitudes, they whispered to one another upon leaving the hall: "Those born with thin blessings simply aren't meant for a good life. If you ask me, Song Xiyan brought this on herself."
"Indeed. Lacking the virtue for her position, how could she ever deserve to be the wife of the young master Qingyu?"
"Shh! Quiet! The people from the Estate of the Duke of Yong are here!"
Lingxiao, standing hidden within the trees on the wall, paused. She watched as a luxurious carriage emblazoned with the emblem of the Duke’s estate slowly came to a halt at the Zhang Mansion gates.
"My precious child! Why have you left me so soon!"
The Duchess of Yong wept as she stepped out of the carriage, stumbling as if she might collapse. Her eyes were bloodshot and tears streamed down her face; she looked truly pitiful.
"Ah, the sorrow of a mother's heart. Even though Song Xiyan hadn't been by the Duchess's side for long, a biological mother is just different. Look at how she’s crying."
"Speaking of which, the Lu Estate didn't send anyone. They raised Song Xiyan for over a decade, yet they show no sign of affection."
"That’s because Song Xiyan was unruly! Not only unruly but wicked as well. Why would they come?"
Lingxiao’s senses were now exceptionally sharp; she could hear everything too clearly. Every word spoken by anyone in the garden reached her ears. Instead of anger, she felt only mockery. Especially watching the Duchess’s laborious performance—trying to out-weep Zhang Yuan in the funeral hall—Lingxiao almost laughed. Their tears were merely for show; there was no genuine sorrow, no trembling of the heart. They hadn't come to pay respects; they had come to celebrate the end of a burden they had finally cast off.
"The Marquis of Loyal Bravery and his wife have arrived!"
The Duchess of Yong, gasping for breath, froze at the announcement and scrambled to look toward the entrance. A woman in pink, greeted by guests, walked into the funeral hall, gently supported by her husband.
"Mother!"
It was Song Miaochun. She let go of her husband’s hand and ran toward the Duchess, weeping. Mother and daughter clutched each other, shedding tears across the funeral hall. The candles burned ever brighter as the guests praised the depth of the Marchioness's affection and the profound bond between mother and daughter.
The proper funeral hall had been transformed into their stage.
Lingxiao took a deep breath. "If I just watch this, I am truly a coward."
Since these people hadn't even spared her death, why should she give them the chance to save face? Lingxiao leaped down, blended into a group of serving maids, and headed toward the back garden of the Zhang Mansion.
Meanwhile, the Prince Han she had been tracking was sitting in the main hall with the Grand Secretary. After a brief exchange of pleasantries expressing "sympathy" for the late Fourth Young Mistress, the topic shifted to the Duke Dingguo, who had been beheaded that very day.
"Grand Secretary Zhang may not know, but the Ministry of Punishments handled this case beautifully, and His Majesty is quite satisfied. It is just those brainless military generals who always insist on causing trouble." Prince Han smiled. "I am a soldier myself; I cannot stand their stupidity, and I certainly do not wish to trouble His Majesty with such matters..."
Upon hearing this, how could Grand Secretary Zhang not understand? Prince Han intended to protect the soldiers and officers under the Duke Dingguo. The Prince usually kept a low profile, so it was a surprise to see him reach out to help them now. Was it for the Duke, or was he coveting their military strength?
"Your Highness jokes. The stability of Daqing is due to the soldiers on the frontier who brave life and death to guard us," Grand Secretary Zhang said, stroking his beard. "Minor matters indeed should not disturb His Majesty."
The two exchanged a smile and raised their cups in a toast, enjoying a convivial conversation.
Until... a series of screams erupted from the back, followed by a surge of commotion. Grand Secretary Zhang frowned. The Zhang Mansion steward knocked and hurried inside. "Master! Something has happened!"
Grand Secretary Zhang smiled apologetically at Prince Han, who nodded, signaling him to handle the situation. The steward whispered in the Grand Secretary’s ear: "Master, guests roaming the garden have discovered several corpses!"
Grand Secretary Zhang’s eyes widened: "What!"
The Zhang family garden was among the finest in the Capital. Even in late autumn, it featured blooming flowers, bridges, and flowing water. Guests often wandered through the garden instead of visiting the funeral hall, turning the funeral into a lively social gathering. Thus, when some guests wandered off to explore, they made the gruesome discovery.
Lingxiao, hidden in the trees, watched as more and more people gathered around the bodies. Even those from the funeral hall were startled and began rushing over. A smirk touched her lips.
The flowers and trees in the garden flourished because her former mother-in-law, Madame Bai, loved to bury the bodies of servants she had beaten to death as fertilizer. She knew this because when Madame Bai had killed her maid, Xiaoying, Lingxiao had followed her and discovered where the girl was buried. A person’s habits are hard to change; indeed, the people she had killed last night were now buried there too!
Taking this opportunity, Lingxiao entered the funeral hall. Even Zhang Yuan had been drawn away. Now, the hall was empty, save for the dying flames in the brazier and the vacant coffin.
Lingxiao gathered a stack of letters, a smile curling her lips. "Truly, no one cares about you. That is good—it gives me plenty of time!"
She scattered the letters, tore down the white funeral drapes, and drew blood, using her finger as a brush and blood as ink! She would write! She would write of Song Xiyan’s tragic life! She would write of Zhang Yuan’s human skin and beastly heart! She would write of Qin Yanran, the shameless mistress! She would write of Madame Bai’s cruelty! She would write of the Zhang family’s vanity and hypocrisy!
The smell of blood permeated the hall. "Whoosh!" The wind caught the white cloth, and the crimson blood-inked characters rippled in the sunlight—every word stained with blood, every word piercing the heart!
As she stood, her hands covered in blood, she heard footsteps approaching and quickly hid.
But then...
She saw a thin little maidservant walk in cautiously. Seeing the state of the room, the girl’s eyes widened, and she involuntarily dropped to her knees. She wept, "Fourth Young Mistress!"
Holding a stack of paper money, the girl kowtowed three times to the memorial tablet and the coffin. When she looked up, her eyes were filled with resolve. "It was you who manifested, wasn't it!" she smiled. "Fourth Young Mistress, Azhu is only alive because you saved her. If not for you, I would have been beaten to death by Qin Yanran long ago. My life belongs to you!"
"Today! Azhu will seek justice for you, My Lady!"
Lingxiao was stunned. She remembered this girl; she was a third-rank maid. Once, she had bumped into Qin Yanran and was nearly beaten to death. Lingxiao had spoken up and saved her. She had forgotten about it immediately after.
"What is this!"
Zhang Yuan and the guests returned. To maintain order, Grand Secretary Zhang had cordoned off the garden, and Madame Bai had urged Zhang Yuan to bring everyone back to the hall. Prince Han, aware of the chaos, had also been ushered inside.
Little did they know that the scene in the funeral hall would be an even greater spectacle!
The frail little maid looked at Prince Han, the most powerful and wealthy of all the guests, and prostrated herself on the floor, holding up the blood-stained white cloth.
"I beg you! Your Highness, Prince Han, please grant justice for my mistress!"
Lingxiao’s hands trembled. The girl shrieked, "Zhang Yuan killed his wife and cut out her heart! He had long been consorting with Qin Yanran! He married my mistress only to use her as an ingredient for a medicine! The Zhang Mansion's eldest mistress aided in these crimes and killed everyone involved to cover the truth!"
Azhu recognized the Prince. From the moment she had eavesdropped on Zhang Yuan, she had been watching the guests. She was young and a lowly servant, but she understood that only those with high rank and power could hold her mistress's killers accountable. She had been treated like cattle her whole life, with no one caring if she lived or died. But her mistress... she was so kind! Why! Why had she died so silently out there? And in the end, her heart was to be given to Qin Yanran as a medicinal ingredient!
"These! These are all the proofs of the illicit affair between Zhang Yuan and Qin Yanran!"
On the white cloth hanging high were letters filled with intimate affection—every one of them correspondence between Zhang Yuan and Qin Yanran! The guests were stunned; Prince Han was shocked by the turn of events.
Zhang Yuan began to tremble uncontrollably: "Nonsense! Pure nonsense!"
Madame Bai finally arrived. Seeing the state of the hall, she nearly fainted, but she quickly recovered. "You wretched slave! Betraying your master and framing them!" she hissed. "Someone! Drag her away! Beat her to death!"
Song Miaochun looked at the scene, then quickly glanced at the Duchess. The Duchess stared at the blood-written characters on the cloth, and for some reason, her heart seized with pain. Her vision went black, and she collapsed!
"Mother!"
The funeral hall descended into chaos. Madame Bai went on the offensive, and the Zhang family guards charged forward.
Azhu kept shouting: "I beg Prince Han! Grant justice for my mistress! She shouldn't have died! She didn't have smallpox! She was killed, her heart cut out! Zhang Yuan and Qin Yanran were co-conspirators!"
The guards seized Azhu, raining blows upon her. She only had time to shield her head with her arms, but even as she was beaten, she screamed: "I beg you... Your Highness! Grant justice... for my mistress!"
"Splat!"
A blade pierced Azhu’s body. Blood bloomed from the tip of the sword. Azhu spat out a mouthful of blood, her eyes wide as she fell to the ground. Red-eyed, she looked toward the memorial tablet in front of the coffin.
"Mistress..."
In her life, Azhu had never met anyone as kind as her mistress. After being saved, she had eaten her first full meal, tasted the best pastries—even if those pastries were just leftovers the mistress had given her because Zhang Yuan didn't want them. She was useless; she had watched her mistress being dragged away to the outskirts of the city and had actually believed she was sick. It was her fault; she had such a good chance, yet she hadn't been able to clear her mistress's name.
But then, Azhu froze. Why was there a... mistress... standing before her in black?
The next moment, the shadow scooped her up, and a blade flashed in a circle, slicing the throats of the surrounding guards. Blood splattered everywhere. Azhu was carried as they dashed out of the funeral hall.
Blood continued to flow from Azhu’s body. The person carrying her veil was blown aside by the wind, revealing a beautiful face. Azhu was dumbfounded: "Mistress..."
Lingxiao covered her wound, looking down at her: "Don't speak. I’m taking you to be treated."
Lingxiao’s speed was so fast that the crowd in the hall only saw a black shadow streak by. The body of the maid was gone, and a circle of guards lay dead!
"Ah! A ghost! It's a ghost! It’s Song Xiyan!" Zhang Yuan, under the high pressure of repeated shocks, lost his composure and collapsed to the floor.
With a murder committed in full view of everyone, even Prince Han, who had intended to stay out of it, was now implicated. Furthermore, the contents on the blood-stained cloth, the maid’s harrowing accusation, and the intimate letters—the guests present were not fools. How could they not know something was amiss?
The white cloth swayed in the wind. Madame Bai screamed for someone to tear it down, while the guests fled in every direction, terrified of the vengeful ghost.
The blood-red characters were plain to see!
"Zhang Yuan killed his wife, cut out her heart!
Swallowed her flesh, ate her heart!
Qin Yanran conspired in this, a pair of shameless, heartless wretches!
The century-old Zhang family, vanity and hypocrisy!
Countless corpses buried within the garden!
Evil-doers everywhere! Demons run rampant in the world!
The vengeful ghost comes to claim her debt!
May the Zhang Mansion know no peace!"