Lin Wan’er’s smile froze on her face. “Sister, what do you mean by that? I only meant to show my filial devotion…”
“I said, take it away.” Lin Shu finally put down her bowl and turned to look at her. Her eyes appeared exceptionally dark under the dim lamplight. “Grandmother Xiao is seriously ill with a weak digestive system. She cannot handle such greasy and overly sweet food. It will only produce phlegm, cause indigestion, and worsen her condition.”
Though she spoke the truth, Lin Wan’er acted as if she had been stepped on, her eyes immediately reddening. “How can you slander my sincere intentions like this, sister? This Milk Crisp is extremely soft and melts in your mouth—Grandmother Xiao has always loved it! I know you resent me, but you can’t forbid me from fulfilling my filial duties!”
She turned to Xiao Che and the Marquis lady, tears welling in her eyes, her voice filled with grievance. “Young Master, Madame, look at how sister is treating me…”
“Just because she enjoyed it before doesn’t mean she can have it now.” Lin Shu interrupted her, standing up to look down at her. “Even a three-year-old child knows to avoid certain foods and eat lightly when sick. Do you not understand such a basic principle, yet keep claiming to show filial devotion? Are you trying to deliver your filial piety to the King of Hell’s Palace?”
“You!”
Lin Wan’er was left speechless by this retort, her face alternating between green and pale, trembling with rage.
Lin Shu had no patience to argue further and directly addressed the Marquis lady, her tone calm yet firm. “Madame, if you don’t believe me, you can break off a piece and taste it. See if this Milk Crisp is indeed heavy with oil and sugar, then consider the imperial physician’s advice—whether Grandmother Xiao’s current condition can withstand it.”
The Marquis lady looked at Lin Wan’er’s tear-streaked face, then at Lin Shu’s clear and steady eyes. The scales in her heart had long been tilted beyond measure.
She said nothing, merely waving a tired hand at Lin Wan’er.
The meaning was unmistakable.
Lin Wan’er felt as if struck by lightning, unable to believe that the Marquis lady, who had always doted on her, would treat her this way.
She looked pleadingly at Xiao Che, hoping this man who had always spoken up for her would come to her aid.
But Xiao Che’s gaze remained fixed on Lin Shu.
He watched her—this woman who, with the simplest logic and the calmest demeanor, shattered Lin Wan’er’s so-called filial devotion into pieces.
He recalled Lin Wan’er’s sobbing complaints in the Woodshed, her cries of injustice in Qing Feng Courtyard, her recent arguments in Songhe Hall…
Each time, she positioned herself as the victim, using tears and grievances as her weapons.
And Lin Shu—from beginning to end, she only spoke facts and reason.
Even when she was so weak she could barely stand, even when misunderstood by everyone, she never shed a single tear.
Who was genuine, who was false, who was acting, and who was sincere—in this moment, the contrast had never been clearer.
“Take it away.” Xiao Che finally spoke, his voice as cold as the chains in a dungeon. “Grandmother needs rest. You may leave.”
The color drained completely from Lin Wan’er’s face.
She stared blankly at Xiao Che, at the unfamiliar coldness and disgust in his eyes, her heart plunging straight into an icy abyss.
He no longer believed her.
Overwhelmed by immense humiliation and panic, Lin Wan’er could no longer stay. Clutching the food box that now seemed utterly ironic, she fled the room as if escaping.
Quiet once again returned to the Nuan Pavilion.
Lin Shu acted as if nothing had happened, sitting back down by the bedside and picking up the bowl of rice porridge that had cooled somewhat. She continued feeding him spoonful by spoonful.
She didn’t even spare Xiao Che a glance, treating him as nothing more than a piece of furniture in the room.
Xiao Che watched her profile, her pale cheeks and focused gaze, and for the first time, felt a deep doubt in his own judgment, which he had always prided himself on.
He had always believed he was a good judge of character, able to distinguish good from evil and see through people’s hearts.
But now, it seemed he had been mistaken all along.
When the bowl of rice porridge was empty, Lin Shu set it aside and was about to ask Hua Ping to bring another bowl.
Suddenly, her wrist was seized, and she was pulled up by an irresistible force.
Without a word, Xiao Che dragged her out of the room, his steps hurried and swift.
“Young Master Xiao, men and women should not touch when giving or receiving things,” Lin Shu stumbled from his pull, her already weak body growing even more limp. The dull ache in her head surged back.
“Enough nonsense. Come with me,” the man’s voice was cold and hard, carrying an undeniable command.
The Marquis lady watched the two of them tugging and pulling as they left, her brow slightly furrowed. In the end, it dissolved into an almost imperceptible sigh as she turned her gaze back to Old Madam Xiao on the bed.
Lin Shu was practically dragged along by Xiao Che. She couldn’t be bothered to struggle, preferring to save her energy.
She had figured it out by now—this Young Master was as stubborn as a mule and needed to be handled with care.
The more she resisted, the more he would push back.
“Xiao Che,” Lin Shu changed her form of address, her voice softening with a hint of exhaustion. “Even if you’re taking me to court for questioning, you could at least let me catch my breath, couldn’t you? My head feels like it’s about to split open.”
Xiao Che’s steps halted abruptly.
He turned back. Under the dim light of the night, the woman’s face was as pale as paper, her lips devoid of color, and a fine layer of cold sweat beaded her forehead. She truly didn’t seem to be faking it.
He released her wrist, though his tone remained harsh. “To my study.”
Lin Shu rubbed her reddened wrist, cursing the dog of a man in her heart eight hundred times over.
She followed behind him, walking slowly as she mulled things over.
Once they reached the study, Xiao Che took the main seat and got straight to the point. “The hidden compartment in Huichun Pharmacy was empty.”
“Oh,” Lin Shu replied, casually taking a seat for herself and unceremoniously pouring a cup of tea. “And then? Did you drag me here just to tell me this bad news?”
Xiao Che watched her act as if she had nothing to lose, feeling a throbbing pain in his temples.
“I need you to use your method again,” he finally said, a trace of awkwardness in his voice that he himself hadn’t noticed. “The others from Huichun Pharmacy have already been brought here.”
Lin Shu’s hand, holding the teacup, paused. She looked up at him and suddenly smiled.
The smile didn’t reach her eyes—it was light and faint, yet it inexplicably made Xiao Che feel a pang of guilt.
“Young Master, what do you take me for? A wishing pond for prayers and offerings? To be used at your convenience?”
She set down the teacup and leisurely extended three slender fingers.
“This method of mine is extremely taxing on the mind and spirit. Using it once could very well shorten my lifespan by ten years. What I did in the dungeon earlier was practically a goodwill gesture. If you want to use it again, you’ll have to pay.”
“And besides, you didn’t keep your promise and peeked. That’s stealing my technique—so you’ll have to pay extra!”
“You!” Xiao Che shot to his feet, his handsome face flushing crimson—whether from anger or embarrassment was unclear. “A human life is at stake, and you dare bargain with me over money?”
“A life may be at stake, but my life matters too.” Lin Shu spread her hands, wearing an expression of utter reasonableness. “As someone with a criminal record, I’m risking my neck to help you investigate this case. If anything happens to Grandmother Xiao, I’ll be the first to be buried with her. Shouldn’t such high-risk work warrant some compensation for emotional distress and hazard pay?”