The troops surging ahead blocked the road. Chen Danzhu was not surprised—ah, her father must be furious.
“Second Miss.” The Chen family steward rode forward from among them, his expression complicated as he looked at her. “The master has ordered family law. Please dismount.”
Behind him were two guards holding ropes. They meant to bind her and send her straight to the military prison, just as they had done with her elder sister. Though she longed to admit fault to her father, now was not the time. Chen Danzhu shouted, “Out of the way—my brother‑in‑law is dead, I must see my father!”
At those words, everyone froze. Brother‑in‑law—did she mean Li Liang?
The steward’s face turned pale. “Second Miss, what did you say?”
Because traveling with a corpse was slow, Chen Danzhu had left Chang Shan and Chang Lin behind with the coffin, while she herself spurred her horse ahead without pause. Thus, the capital did not yet know that a coffin followed in her train.
Chen Danzhu galloped forward. The steward, flustered, recovered himself and no longer tried to bind her, only cried out: “The troops must not enter the city!”
Chen Danzhu glanced back. Mr. Wang, clad in Wu armor, was watching her without fear. She knew that if she gave the word, the Wu soldiers before them could tear him apart.
“These are my brother‑in‑law’s men,” Chen Danzhu declared. “They know the truth.”
Mr. Wang led a dozen men forward, shouting, “We will follow Second Miss back. The rest will await orders here.”
The steward watched Chen Danzhu charge past with her escort, then saw the remaining soldiers stay put. After a moment’s hesitation, Chen Danzhu and her party swept past him like the wind, racing toward the city.
“Seventh Master!” Chen Li called from among them. “Hurry back—there is much to be done!”
Li Liang’s death was already shocking enough. What more could there be? The steward snapped his whip and spurred his horse, bewildered. What was happening?
Through the city gates, the streets were still bustling, crowded with people. Though there was a curfew at night, by day, no one was forbidden to walk. Seeing a young girl galloping at full speed, not slowing in the least, the crowd scattered in panic. Shouts, screams, and curses filled the air.
“Someone’s been hit!”
“Who is it?”
“Ah—it’s a young girl!”
“It’s the daughter of Grand Tutor Chen!”
“Having soldiers and horses makes her think she’s above us!”
“Of course she is—who would dare provoke them? Even Inspector Zhang was beaten by Grand Tutor Chen so badly he didn’t dare leave his house, tsk tsk—”
Chen Danzhu ignored all these voices. At the gates of her home, she leaped from her horse and rushed inside. At once, she saw a tall, broad‑shouldered man with a head of white hair standing in the courtyard. He wore armor and held a blade, his aged face stern and dignified.
Tears welled up in Chen Danzhu’s eyes. She cried out, “Father—!” and threw herself into his arms.
Chen Liehu was caught off guard, stumbling back a step. This daughter had never acted so spoiled toward him. Because she was born late in his life, and her mother had died giving birth, he had doted on her, but they had never been close. She was pampered, stubborn, and willful. This was the first time she had ever embraced him— And at such a moment! Shouldn’t she be kneeling to confess her guilt? Was she trying to win forgiveness by acting spoiled?
Hardening his heart, Chen Liehu pulled her from his arms. “Danzhu, do you know your crime?”
Chen Danzhu lifted her tear‑streaked face to him. She had reunited with her father and hoped this reunion might last a little longer. She drew a deep breath, suppressing the bittersweet joy and pain of their meeting, leaving only tears like rain. “Father, brother‑in‑law is dead.”
Chen Liehu had not yet reacted when, behind them, Chen Danyan screamed. She lost her breath and collapsed backward, saved only by the maid Xiao Die’s desperate support.
Chen Liehu shouted, “Quick, call the physician!” For the moment, he could not punish Chen Danzhu, as all was thrown into chaos while Chen Danyan was carried to her room. Three physicians and a midwife were already present.
Since learning of Chen Danyan’s pregnancy, Chen Liehu had summoned two more doctors and even a midwife, keeping them in the household until the child was born.
“Your sister is with child,” Chen Liehu said to Chen Dan‑zhu, his expression complicated. “Your words—”
Ah, should he tell her to speak more carefully? But if Li Liang was truly dead, what use was careful speech?
Chen Danzhu looked at the physicians inside. “Give my sister calming medicine. Let her remain asleep for now.”
Otherwise, her body truly could not endure it.
Chen Danzhu gazed at her sister, her feelings conflicted. Should this child be kept, or would it be better not to? Ah—she would leave that decision to her sister.
Once Chen Danyan was settled, the men sent out to gather news returned, bringing Chang Shan with them. They confirmed that Li Liang’s corpse was indeed on the road.
A son dead, a son‑in‑law dead—Chen Liehu stood in the hall, his figure swaying, bracing himself with the long blade across his front. “Chen Danzhu,” her father roared, “do you know your crime?”
Even if this was his only surviving child, stealing the military tally was a grave offense. He could not show favoritism.
“Father,” Chen Danzhu still did not kneel. She spoke softly: “First, seize Chang Shan.”
Chen Liehu was startled. On the ground, Chang Shan’s face changed drastically as he tried to leap up—
“Li Liang betrayed Prince Wu and submitted to the imperial court,” Chen Danzhu declared.
The steward had already been prepared. At her words, he kicked Chang Shan down and pressed upon him like a mountain. Chang Shan cried out in pain, unable to move.
Chen Liehu gripped his blade so tightly it creaked. “What is going on?”
Chen Danzhu stepped forward, reaching out. “Father, please sit down and listen to me.” She feared he could not withstand the shocks and might collapse.
Chen Liehu slammed the blade to the ground, making it tremble. “Speak!”
Chen Danzhu said plainly: “I killed Li Liang.”
Chen Liehu fell heavily into his chair. The steward, losing control, knocked Chang Shan unconscious. He lifted his head, mouth agape, staring in disbelief at the young girl before him—his Second Miss, only fifteen years old.
Chen Liehu felt the world spinning. He closed his eyes and forced out a single word: “Explain.”
On the road, Chen Danzhu had already decided: she must tell the truth about Li Liang. His treachery had to be known to her father and sister. She only needed to invent a story about how she had learned the truth.
“It happened suddenly. That day it was raining. A soldier of brother‑in‑law came to Peach Temple. He had fled from the front, wounded, pursued by brother‑in‑law’s men. He feared there were spies in our household, so he came to me at Tao Mountain. He told me Li Liang had betrayed the Prince.”
She recounted how she had been shocked and disbelieving, how she decided to investigate herself. She returned home, used incense to put her sister to sleep, discovered her sister had stolen the tally, and took it to confront Li Liang. At the front, she found evidence, questioned him, and when his plot collapsed, he tried to kill her. Fortunately, she was prepared—she drugged him, killed him, and escaped.
“Father can ask Chen Li. In the left‑wing army, he saw the strange events himself. Without the tally to protect me, I might not have returned alive. As for Chen Qiang—I did not dare say it before—their fate is uncertain.”
Chen Liehu listened, at a loss for words. It was too incredible. But surely his daughter would not lie to him?
“What of the soldier who told you?” he asked.
“He died after speaking,” Chen Danzhu said softly. Yes, in her past life, he had indeed died. “I buried him secretly on the mountain, without a marker.”
Chen Liehu said, “Such an important matter—why did you not tell me?”
Chen Danzhu lowered her eyes. “At first, I did not believe it. That soldier died, and to tell Father and Sister, I would have needed proof. If it were true, delay would be dangerous; if false, it would only disrupt the army’s morale. So I decided to take the tally that brother‑in‑law wanted and test him. I never expected it to be true.”
Chen Liehu’s body trembled slightly. He still could not believe it—could not believe that Li Liang would betray them. This was the son‑in‑law he had chosen himself, the one he had taught and supported with all his heart.
“Master,” the steward reminded from the side, “true or false, we need only ask Chang Shan to know.”
Chen Liehu came back to himself. Yes—Chang Shan was Li Liang’s personal attendant. For Li Liang to betray the Prince, he would have needed to do many things, things that could not be hidden from those closest to him, things that required their help.
“Take him away!” Chen Liehu pointed. “Use torture!”
The steward dragged Chang Shan out. The hall fell quiet again. Chen Liehu looked at his younger daughter, who stood before him. Suddenly, he rose and seized her hand. “You said you poisoned Li Liang, and you yourself were poisoned. Quickly, let the physicians examine you.”
Tears spilled from Chen Danzhu’s eyes. She pulled free and knelt before him. “Father, your daughter has sinned.”
Chen Liehu sighed and reached to lift her up. “We will speak after the truth is clear. For now, rise.”
But Chen Danzhu did not rise. Instead, she bowed her head to the floor, tears soaking her sleeves. She was not confessing to what had already happened—she was confessing to what she was about to do.