Recognizing the object in the other party’s hand as the string puppet his grandson had been obsessively playing with recently, Xun Shan’s heart sank.
Most string puppets were carved from wood, but this one was made of porcelain, exquisitely crafted.
When he first saw it in his grandson’s hands, he had questioned its origin.
His grandson said it was a gift from a patient but couldn’t recall which household it came from.
Having worked among wealthy families and received many rewards, Xun Shan believed him.
Only now did he realize it was something from the Jiang family!
He forced himself to stay calm. “This puppet was picked up by my grandson on the street. I didn’t know its origin before, never imagining it was a toy of the Jiang family’s young lady…”
The other party replied indifferently, “It seems your grandson shares quite a fate with Miss Jiang. Why not let him go down and keep her company?”
As the words fell, a dark figure descended from above, tossing an object into the freshly dug grave pit.
Xun Shan glanced over and nearly felt his heart shatter.
The object in the pit was unmistakably his grandson!
“Mmph! Mmph!”
His grandson grew agitated upon seeing him, but with limbs bound and mouth gagged, he could only struggle and emit muffled sounds.
Without a second thought, Xun Shan rushed forward, only to be kicked by the dark figure and sent sprawling three meters away.
A soft crack—his shinbone snapped.
Ignoring the pain, he glared furiously at the person wearing the veiled hat. “You can’t do this! The Jiang family’s affairs have nothing to do with him!”
“They say a father’s debts are repaid by his son. Since you have no son, it’s only fair for your grandson to repay them, isn’t it?”
The other party spoke calmly, their tone still devoid of emotion.
The masked black-clad figure standing by the pit began kicking clumps of dirt into it.
“Stop!” Xun Shan’s eyes widened in fury. “I’ll talk, I’ll talk!”
The black-clad figure halted.
“When Lady Jiang was bleeding during her pregnancy, she called me for a consultation,” Xun Shan said through gritted teeth.
“I prescribed her a miscarriage-prevention formula, but she still miscarried. She died from a sudden high fever after childbirth. You can’t blame me for that!”
As soon as he finished speaking, he saw the masked black-clad figure pull out a short-handled shovel, bend down, and scoop soil into the pit, burying the child in the blink of an eye.
“Stop!”
He cried out in panic.
“You have fifteen minutes to confess your crimes,” the other party said coldly. “After that, he’ll suffocate to death.”
Xun Shan clenched his fists, then let them go helplessly.
“The night I returned from my first consultation at the Jiang residence, someone left a note by my bedside in the middle of the night. It said they could help me resolve my son’s troubles, as long as Lady Jiang miscarried and died.”
“My son had just caused a patient’s death at the time, and the news hadn’t spread yet. I was deeply worried about it.”
“The promise on the note might not have been genuine, but if they could slip it to my bedside unnoticed, they could just as easily take the lives of me and my grandson.”
“I… I had no choice. I added an extra ingredient to the medicine I later prescribed Lady Jiang…”
He wore a guilty expression.
“I wronged Lady Jiang, but my grandson has done nothing wrong. Please spare him.”
“So, you know nothing about the person behind this?”
The other party asked.
He nodded vigorously. “Aside from that note, I know nothing. Lady Jiang died, and my son was still sentenced to exile. He didn’t survive…”
“Where is the note?”
“In the medicine cabinet, in the drawer beneath the one labeled ‘borneol,’ the one with the blank label.”
The masked black-clad figure immediately leaped into the air, disappearing among the treetops in an instant.
Xun Shan stared at the motionless grave pit, growing increasingly anxious. He crawled two steps toward it, and seeing that the veiled-hatted figure said nothing, he dragged his broken leg and quickly scrambled over.
With trembling hands, he dug through the pile of dirt.
After clearing it away and seeing the child could still blink, he let out a long sigh of relief.
Then, anger surged back into his heart. Gnashing his teeth, he demanded, “Tell me honestly, where did that puppet come from?”
The child’s expression of terror froze.
He immediately understood—this wretched creature must have stolen it when he followed him to the Jiang family for medical treatment!
“What a cursed fate,” he sighed. “Your grandfather is going to be killed because of you.”
When Madam Jiang first died, he had been uneasy, fearing the Jiang family would notice something amiss and come to settle accounts. But then the old Madam Jiang died unexpectedly, and the Jiang family servants were burned to death in a fire.
No one was left to investigate Madam Jiang’s cause of death.
He had completely set his mind at ease.
Who would have thought that now, because of a stolen marionette puppet, his secret would be exposed.
Was this truly the way of heaven’s net—wide-meshed yet letting nothing through?
He glanced at the veiled-hatted figure not far away, puzzled. The Jiang family was completely wiped out, so where did this avenger come from…
Wuhua soon returned, handing a sealed bamboo tube to Feng Qingsui.
Feng Qingsui opened it and caught a faint whiff of lingering ink fragrance.
Within the ink scent was a hint of light floral aroma.
The content written on the slip of paper matched what Xun Shan had said. It was written in the standard regular script used in imperial examinations, devoid of any personal style.
After reading it, she stuffed it back into the bamboo tube and asked Xun Shan, “Apart from this slip, was there nothing else?”
Xun Shan smiled bitterly, “If I really knew anything more, how could I have survived until today?”
He was merely a pawn to be discarded after use.
Feng Qingsui then gave Wuhua a signal.
Wuhua stepped forward, grabbed the child by the shoulder, and lifted him up.
Xun Shan panicked, “He only took a puppet! Won’t you even spare him?”
Feng Qingsui said calmly, “A life for a life. You owe Madam Jiang a life. Whether you repay it with your grandson’s life or your own, you decide.”
With that, she turned and left.
Wuhua followed, carrying the child.
Xun Shan felt a chill run through his entire body.
He stared blankly in the direction where the figures had disappeared until the cawing of crows startled him, and the pain in his leg brought him back to his senses.
Dragging his broken leg, he crawled back to the carriage, drove the horse back to the city.
After returning to Ping’an Hall, he wrote his suicide note and placed it by his pillow.
Then, he took a drug that would cause fatal blood clotting, lay down fully clothed.
In his final moments, hearing his grandson’s crying voice calling “Grandpa” from outside, he breathed his last.
His eyelids closed completely.
At Ji Fu, Madam Qi suddenly widened her eyes.
“You went out of the city for a stroll?!”
Feng Qingsui set down the wintersweet she was holding in her arms and smiled:
“Yes, the weather was nice today. I wanted to watch the sunset, so I took a walk to the western suburbs and also cut some wintersweet branches on the way back.”
Madam Qi looked at the golden wintersweet branches and chided with a smile, “Your temperament is exactly like Changfeng’s. You can’t stay in the estate for more than two or three days without wanting to run off into the wilderness.”
Ji Changqing, who had just stepped over the threshold, heard this and: “…”
He gave Feng Qingsui a meaningful look.
This woman was truly meticulous.
She had come up with such a legitimate reason for being in the western suburbs that he couldn’t even lodge a complaint properly.
Feng Qingsui divided half of the flower branches for Madam Qi. The remaining half, she held back in her arms and smiled at Ji Changqing:
“I heard Second Master doesn’t like fragrant flowers, so I won’t share any with you.”
Ji Changqing indeed disliked floral scents.
Not just floral scents, but any other fragrances as well—being tainted by them would hinder his ability to play a dual role.
But at this moment, watching the person before him act as if guarding his food, he couldn’t help but say, “In the past, I truly didn’t care for it, but the scent of this wintersweet is exceptionally crisp and cold. Having a pot in the study would be acceptable.”
Feng Qingsui: “…”