Chang Shu staggered backward, his mouth full of blood.
“What is the meaning of this, Marquis Pei?!”
Xie Huaizhi forcibly suppressed the shock and fury in his heart.
“Though my Count Qing’an’s Residence is related to the Sunjia by marriage, you should know, Houye, that my sister is merely a new bride. The Sunjia’s affairs would never have been told to her in the slightest. The entire Bofu knows nothing whatsoever about the salt tax case.”
“It’s true that my wife touched the Sunjia’s betrothal gifts, but that was before the salt tax case broke out, and I have already done everything I can to make amends…”
“Amends?”
Pei Yu leaned back against his chair, his expression languid yet his bearing overwhelmingly imposing.
“Sun Yiping colluded with the Lianghuai Yanyun Commissioner to embezzle salt taxes—by rough calculation, over seven hundred thousand taels. The Sunjia has long resided in the capital, relying on their connections in the Hubu to deceive superiors and dupe subordinates, bribing court officials and smoothing the salt route checkpoints to blind the Emperor. Their crimes merit the extermination of nine generations of their family.”
“Two months ago, the salt transport supervising official Jia Dai died suddenly, leaving behind a ledger of the salt tax accounts, which later fell into Sun Yiping’s hands. Yet when this Marquis raided every single Sunjia property, I could not find it.”
“Count Xie, where do you think that ledger has gone?”
Xie Huaizhi’s expression changed drastically: “Marquis Pei, don’t even think of slandering my Bofu…”
“Slander?”
Pei Yu gave a soft sneer. “After Jia Dai’s death, Sun Yiping, fearing he would follow in his footsteps, dared not keep the ledger in his own residence. But handing it to someone else to hide elsewhere left him uneasy as well, and he feared someone might kill him to silence him, just as they had murdered Jia Dai. After much deliberation, he finally decided to hide it among the betrothal gifts and send them to Count Qing’an’s Residence.”
“Sun Yiping had long since sent people to investigate and learned that your Xie Jia dotes on the young ladies of the household. He had his son repeatedly whisper in the Xie Jia young lady’s ear about the marriage and betrothal gifts. Unwilling to lose face, the Xie Jia young lady would naturally pester her family to merge the betrothal gifts into her dowry so she could bring them back to the Sunjia.”
“Old Madame Xie is the Empress Dowager’s niece, and the Xie Jia young lady enjoys the Empress Dowager’s favor. Even if the Sunjia’s crimes were one day uncovered, no one would ever suspect a new bride who had just married into the Sunjia of hiding the ledger in her dowry.”
“It’s just that no one expected your Count Qing’an’s Residence to be so concerned with face that you prepared an entirely separate dowry to bolster her standing, leaving the Sunjia’s betrothal gifts behind in the residence.”
“Impossible!”
Xie Huaizhi clenched his palms, his face deathly pale.
How could this be?
Xie Yujiao’s marriage had always been managed by his mother. All he knew was that the betrothal gifts the Sunjia sent were extremely lavish.
The household had originally planned to merge those items into the dowry for Xie Yujiao to take with her, but later his mother said that doing so would make people look down on them, that it would make the Bofu seem shallow in means and invite ridicule. So they prepared a separate dowry even more valuable than the Sunjia’s betrothal gifts, so as not to lose face.
Xie Huaizhi had assumed his mother simply doted on his sister and let them have their way. Never had he imagined that the Sunjia’s betrothal gifts contained the salt tax ledger.
The Sunjia was practically trying to get them all killed!
Watching Xie Huaizhi’s face turn the colors of a spilled dye vat, Pei Yu rose to his feet, long legs pressing against the floor.
“Even if you hadn’t come today, this Marquis intended to lead men to Count Qing’an’s Residence to retrieve the Sunjia’s betrothal gifts. But now you tell me those betrothal gifts are gone.”
“Xie Huaizhi, I’m afraid your Xie Jia will have to make a trip to the Imperial City Department.”
Mu Xin suddenly called out: “Men!”
The sudden commotion outside struck people’s hearts like drumbeats. Imperial City Department guards in light armor and black boots, radiating deadly menace, surged in. The Xie Jia servants in the courtyard were instantly pinned down and seized, while long swords were leveled before Xie Huaizhi and his servant.
“Marquis Pei, don’t act rashly—I can explain the Sunjia affair…”
“There’s nothing to explain. Save it for prison.”
“How dare you!”
Xie Huaizhi never imagined that the Imperial City Department would not only fail to rescue Xie Yujiao, but would drag him down as well.
Seeing the surrounding men draw their swords and step forward, with Pei Yu showing no mercy whatsoever, Xie Huaizhi’s face went pale as he shouted sternly, “Pei Yu, you cannot touch me. I am Qinganbo, personally enfeoffed by the royal family. The Empress Dowager is my mother’s aunt. Without a Shengzhi from the Emperor, how dare you arrest me—”
“Mmph!”
A searing pain shot through the back of his knee, and Xie Huaizhi let out a muffled groan as he crashed heavily to the ground.
Pei Yu stood tall beside him. “Are you threatening this Houye?”
“I—”
Crack!
Pei Yu brought his foot down on Xie Huaizhi’s leg, and the man beneath him let out a bloodcurdling scream.
He ground his foot down hard, as if crushing the bone to pieces. The pain made Xie Huaizhi’s eyes bulge with fury as he lay prostrate on the ground, trembling all over.
“In this capital, there is no one this Houye cannot arrest.”
Pei Yu lowered his eyes slightly. “Send Count Xie to the prison. See that he is well taken care of.”
“Pei Yu, you—”
Just as Xie Huaizhi began to curse, Mu Xin swiftly gagged him.
Pei Yu stepped over him, and men immediately came forward to drag the master and servants of Xie Jia away, taking along the terrified Xie family servants in the courtyard as well.
Outside, the snow kept falling, and in mere moments it had blanketed the chests with a thick layer.
The cold wind swayed the lanterns before the hall, their hazy glow blurring the night. Tiered eaves and flying beams, winding corridors and hanging gates wove together the grim, heavy atmosphere of the Imperial City Department.
Mu Xin looked at his master standing at the door. “Houye, what about Count Qing’an’s Residence…”
Pei Yu said, “Go to Xie Jia and make the arrests.”
After Xie Huaizhi was taken to the Imperial City Department, Old Madame Xie had her people sort through the remainder of Shen’s dowry, gave the storeroom stewards a stern warning, and only then allowed herself to be helped back to Yu’anzhai.
The warmth of the room dispelled the chill from her body. Xie Yuyin hurried forward. “Mother, about the Sunjia matter…”
“Your eldest brother has already gone to handle the Sunjia matter. You are not to mention it again.”
Old Madame Xie’s expression was grim.
Mama Cen, standing nearby with a cup of ginger soup, smoothed things over. “The snow is falling heavier and heavier today, and it’s dreadfully cold outside. Old Madame, you stood in the cold wind for so long just now that I fear you’ve caught a chill. This servant has had ginger soup prepared—please drink it quickly to drive out the cold.”
After handing the bowl to the Old Madame, she turned to Xie Yuyin and said, “Eldest Young Miss, the Sunjia matter involves too many people. Since Madam has already confessed, the rest is for the Count to handle. If you keep bringing it up, you’ll only invite suspicion.”
Old Madame Xie sipped her ginger soup, having no patience for her foolish eldest daughter.
“Shen has taken the blame for you in this matter, and the Sunjia betrothal gifts were made up from her dowry. But the things are still in your hands, so cover your tracks completely. If your eldest brother finds even a hint of it, you will not have an easy time.”
Xie Yuyin shuddered. “Rest assured, Mother. I understand.”
Someone hurried in from outside—it was Fanghua, who attended the Old Madame.
“Old Madame, there’s trouble at the Citang. Jinque is badly injured, and Madam wants to call for a physician.”
“A treacherous slave who betrayed her master—what does she need a physician for?”
“But Madam is making a scene. She says she has already confessed her guilt and given up her dowry, and that she’ll accept whatever punishment the Old Madame sees fit. She only begs the Old Madame to show mercy and save Jinque…”
The madam had always been cold and distant. She had entered the household in such a humiliating way, and in these four years, no matter how she was scolded or punished, she had never once begged anyone for help. But just now, she had seen it clearly—the madam holding the blood-soaked Jinque, sobbing until she trembled. After the servants had forced them into the Citang, the madam’s pleading cries poured out from behind those tightly shut doors.
She begged for someone to fetch a physician, begged someone to save Jinque.
Fanghua felt a pang of pity and wanted to plead on the madam’s behalf, but before she could even finish speaking, a porcelain bowl came flying at her face, striking her head and face.
“If you feel so sorry for Shen, why not go serve her in the Citang?”
Fanghua instantly dropped to her knees: “This servant wouldn’t dare!”
Old Madame Xie’s face was cold with fury. She had finally forced Shen to admit to the Sunjia affair. If outsiders were allowed into the residence at a time like this and learned that they had given Jinque the Zhangze and coerced Shen, wouldn’t everything they had done today be for nothing?
Besides, she was just a lowly maidservant. Dead was dead. What could Shen possibly do?
“Shen has committed a wrongdoing. She is confined to the Citang to reflect on her faults. Keep a close watch on her—if anything goes wrong, or if a single word of today’s events gets out, everyone will be punished together.”
Shen Shuangyue had never imagined the Xie Jia could be so heartless. She had begged until her throat bled, begged until she was lower than dust, begged until every bone in her body was broken and every ounce of flesh carved away—yet she still could not buy a shred of mercy from the Xie Jia.
Jinque’s injuries were severe. She had threatened them with her own life to make the Xie Jia summon a physician, but all she received in return was the mockery of the servants outside the door.
“Does Madam really think anyone cares whether you live or die?”
“The Old Madame has ordered you confined. Scream all you want—no one will pay you any mind. You’re nothing but a shameless slut who climbed into the Count’s bed and killed your own sister. Did you really think of yourself as the Countess?”
The hairpin in Shen Shuangyue’s hand suddenly fell to the floor. She was right. Apart from her elder sister, who would ever care whether she lived or died?
The Xie Jia would not care about her life or death, and the Shenjia would not stand up for her either. Even if she died here, she would merely be a criminal who stole her sister-in-law’s dowry and killed herself when discovered. No one in the Xie Jia would care whether she was innocent, and her father and mother would only feel ashamed of her.
“Miss, don’t—don’t beg them…”
Jinque’s back was covered in blood, the pain making her convulse uncontrollably, yet she clutched tightly at her hand.
“Don’t beg them.”
Her miss had never done anything wrong. She had never seduced the Count, never killed the eldest young lady. She was the kindest, best miss in all the world. She should not bow her head, should not bend her back. She should be the bright moon hanging high on the branch, untouched by dust and mire.
It was they who harmed her. Everyone was forcing her…
Jinque coughed up blood: “This servant… this servant doesn’t want you to bow your head…”
“Jinque!”
Shen Shuangyue pressed her hands desperately over the wound, but she could not stop the blood that kept pouring from Jinque’s mouth.
She had never known that a person could bleed so much. Though it was dark all around with no light to be seen, it could not mask the spreading stench of blood. Her hands were sticky, her whole body reeked of blood—it was as if she were submerged in a pool of blood, soaked in despair with no way to break free.
Jinque strained to lift her head: “This servant still remembers, when you found me back then, you looked just like a fairy stepping out of a celestial palace.”
“This servant thought, how could anyone in this world be so beautiful? This servant swore I would protect you, and never let anyone bully you…”
“Cough!”
The blood choked her throat. Jinque’s voice sounded as if it would break from the pain, yet she only clutched harder at her sleeve.
“This servant doesn’t hurt. Don’t bow your head for this servant’s sake. Miss did nothing wrong…”
“Stop talking, stop talking!”
Shen Shuangyue’s tears fell in great drops. She had believed that if she simply endured and yielded, she could make amends for her sister’s death. She had believed that if she faithfully kept her sister’s dying wish, guarding the Bofu and Yi-ge’er, they would gradually forget those faults that had never belonged to her.
But she had forgotten that in everyone’s eyes she was already a sinner—that she was the maggot that never saw the light of day, the rat and vermin that shunned the light, fit only to drag out a miserable existence in the muck.
She had caused her sister’s death and deserved to die ten thousand deaths.
But Jinque shouldn’t have!
Feeling the breath of the person in her arms growing weaker, Shen Shuangyue’s eyes suddenly fell on the tall altar platform standing not far away. She gently set down the person in her arms and, staggering, rose to her feet and walked toward it…
Old Madame Xie had only just managed to catch her breath. Xie Huaizhi had not yet returned to the residence, so she could not sleep soundly, and since Xie Yuyin was too worried about the Sunjia affair to go home, the mother and daughter ended up talking through the night.
Xie Yuyin sounded somewhat anxious: “Mother, do you think Shen might recant about the Sunjia matter?”
Old Madame Xie held a bowl of thickly stewed snow fungus soup. “Even if she recants, so what? The things were found on her estate, the warehouse steward has pinned it firmly on her, and she admitted to your elder brother’s face, with her own mouth, that she took the Sun family’s betrothal gifts. Even if she changes her story later, no one will believe her.”
“But…”
“There is no ‘but.'”
Old Madame Xie looked at her crossly. “Shen is clever. We merely caught her off guard, but afterward she may well guess it was you. Tomorrow I will have someone bring Yi-ge’er back. With Yi-ge’er here, no matter how angry or resentful Shen is, she will endure it.”
If what Shen owed the Xie Jia was guilt, then toward Xie Chongyi, left behind by Shen Wanyi, what she owed was a debt pure and entire.
She owed Yi-ge’er’s mother a life, and never once talked back to any of Yi-ge’er’s demands. As long as Yi-ge’er was there, whatever they did, Shen Shuangyue would faithfully guard the Bofu and her position as Countess.
And so, when Mama Cen rushed in, face full of panic, saying that Shen Shuangyue had set fire to the Citang and smashed the ancestral tablets, Old Madame Xie was stunned.
She knocked over the snow fungus soup on the table, and when she led Xie Yuyin hurrying to the Citang, they saw through the wide-open doors a scene of utter wreckage.
The sandalwood altar table where offerings were placed had caught fire, the silk draperies hanging in the Citang piled atop it. The altar platform had collapsed into pieces where its wooden frame had been torn away, and the raging blaze dyed the once-dark Citang red. Shen Shuangyue clutched a blackened tablet and held it over that burning heap.
Old Madame Xie’s eyes nearly split with fury: “Shen! What are you doing?!”
Shen Shuangyue raised her head, tablet in hand, and on seeing who had arrived said softly, “Mother has come.”
Xie Yuyin, looking at the blaze in the Citang, couldn’t help shrieking, “You madwoman! You actually dared to smash the ancestral tablets of the Xie Jia and set fire to the Citang…” She turned and screamed at the servants at the door, “Are you all dead? What are you standing there for? Seize her at once!”
The servants around started forward, but Shen Shuangyue extended the tablet in her hand toward the fire, and in the light of the flames the characters inscribed in gold-fused ink upon it were revealed.
“Stop.” Old Madame Xie’s voice trembled as she cried out sharply, “No one is to come closer!”
“Mother…”
Xie Yuyin turned to speak, but Mama Cen grabbed her hand. “Eldest Miss—the tablet in her hand is the old Count’s.”
Most of the memorial tablets enshrined in the Citang of Count Qing’an’s Residence belonged to the Count’s own line—above them were Xie Huaizhi’s grandfather and great-grandfather, and below them were the direct female descendants of the Bofu. The tablet of Old Count Xie was naturally among them.
In the past, these tablets had been arranged neatly on the altar niche of the offering table, but now they had toppled over in disarray, and Old Count Xie’s tablet was gripped in the Madam’s hand.
Flames licked at the edges of the tablet, yet she seemed to feel no pain, only quietly gazing outside. If she loosened her grip even slightly, the tablet would be instantly swallowed by the raging fire.