Chapter 105: The Truth Unveiled Amidst the Clearing Clouds (Part Four)

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It seemed as if it had been by the matriarch’s command that the incident of Chuxiu falling into the water was kept completely secret. Apart from Shen Yu, Bamboo Shadow, and Dan Xin, who found her at the lotus pond in Jing Garden, only a few of the household guards knew the truth—and all were from Zhiyan Pavilion, trusted not to speak out of turn.

No one ever asked about the matter again. Even the matriarch only visited Chuxiu twice to check on her recovery, urging her to rest well, but never inquiring how she fell into the water or why Zhuoyan’s body was found there.

Chuxiu vaguely heard that the second concubine had caused a commotion at Rongjin Hall several times, suspecting that she had conspired with the third and fourth households to kill Zhuoyan. But such suspicions were unfounded, and regardless of the motives, the matriarch paid no heed.

Chuxiu remained bedridden for over half a month and only barely managed to walk again. By the time she recovered, the first month of the lunar year was already more than halfway through. In other words, her entire New Year was spent confined to her sickbed.

Finally, near the end of the first lunar month, Chuxiu’s health was restored, but then the heir apparent, Yun Cheng, fell ill with an inexplicable fever that would not subside.

Even Shen Yu, the disciple of the divine healer Qu Fang, was powerless to cure him. The matriarch grew anxious and furious, summoning all the renowned doctors in Fangzhou, yet none could diagnose the cause.

By early February, Yun Cheng had been burning with fever for four or five days. The entire Yun residence lacked any festive atmosphere after the New Year; instead, it felt gloomy and lifeless. The servants were baffled by the string of misfortunes that had befallen the household in just two short years. Since the passing of Xia Yanran and Yun Ci, the residence had known few peaceful days. Its wealth had dwindled, the massive assets in Beixi were abandoned, and death, injury, illness, and suffering seemed never-ending.

A rumor quietly spread within the Yun household: that the deaths of Yun Ci, the Marquis of Lixin, and his principal wife Xia Yanran were shrouded in mystery; their restless spirits lingered, refusing to bless the Yun family.

Years ago, when Xia Yanran and Yun Ci died on the same night, the matriarch had claimed publicly that Xia Yanran had accidentally drowned and that Yun Ci had succumbed to an old illness from grief.

But now, that explanation no longer held credibility. A vague fear and suspicion enveloped the entire Yun residence—and gradually, the whole Yun clan.

On the seventh day of Yun Cheng’s persistent fever, at dawn’s first light, a plainly dressed old man suddenly arrived, claiming to have divined that restless spirits haunted the Lixin Marquis’s residence and that the intense malevolence needed to be dispelled.

The gatekeeper, seeing the matter might be serious, dared not conceal it, promptly reporting to the steward Yun Zhong. Yun Zhong then informed Chuxiu, who took charge and invited the old man into the guest hall of the outer garden.

“May I ask how to address you, respected elder?” Chuxiu smiled gently.

“Madam, names are but worldly trappings; you may simply regard this old man as nameless and faceless,” the old man replied, unwilling to reveal any details.

“I heard from the steward that you said restless spirits linger in the Yun household and that the malevolence is too strong?” Chuxiu asked skeptically.

The old man nodded gravely. “Not only that, but a great calamity is imminent for your residence.”

“A calamity?” Chuxiu feigned surprise. “What kind of calamity?”

“A blood disaster,” the old man said without hesitation. “If the restless spirits are not driven away and the malevolence extinguished, the Yun family will continue to decline. I have watched as each Marquis showed kindness and the Yun family conducted business honestly; I cannot bear to see this malevolence obscure the household’s auspiciousness, so I took the liberty to come.”

Chuxiu questioned the old man further before reporting the matter to the matriarch and requesting that he perform rituals within the residence to dispel the spirits.

Strangely enough, despite Shen Yu’s previous inability to curb Yun Cheng’s fever, by the second day after the old man’s rites, Yun Cheng’s condition miraculously improved.

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Afterward, even the matriarch came to trust the white-haired old sorcerer somewhat, summoning him to express her gratitude. Privately, the old man confided to the matriarch and Chuxiu that Yun Cheng was not truly ill, but someone had cursed the residence: first Chuxiu, then the heir apparent Yun Cheng. The next target was likely the matriarch herself, the head of the Yun clan, Lady Xie.

Such words were hard for everyone to believe. Otherwise, first Chuxiu’s accident and prolonged illness during the New Year, then the hale and hearty Yun Cheng inexplicably falling ill with no cure…

Hearing this, the matriarch was naturally alarmed. Adopting the principle of “better to believe than doubt,” she ordered a thorough investigation within the residence but publicly gave a dignified explanation: the outbreak of illness after the New Year prompted the invitation of a master to dispel the plague spirit and perform a thorough cleansing of the household.

On the third day of the “plague-dispelling” ritual, the master uncovered six small straw dolls pierced with silver needles in the “Qingyin Pavilion,” where the third concubine Wen Xian resided. Each doll bore the birth details of the matriarch, Yun Ci, Yun Qi, Xia Yanran, Chuxiu, and Yun Cheng.

Coincidentally, the third young master, Yun Xian, was away on business in Jingzhou, sent by the matriarch to handle several affairs.

That same day, Wen Xian was thrown into the prison dungeon. The matriarch did not intervene, leaving the matter entirely in Chuxiu’s hands.

“Third madam, do you have anything to say now?” Chuxiu’s voice was steady, her murderous intent unmasked.

“Madam! I am innocent! You and the matriarch know me best; how could I commit such heinous acts! The third young master and I have been loyal to the Yun family!” Wen Xian sobbed with tear-filled eyes, portraying the wronged, yet defended herself without subservience.

Chuxiu sighed softly. “Indeed, the third household is loyal to the Yun family, but not loyal to the Marquis.”

Wen Xian froze, stopping her crying to ask, “What do you mean by that?”

“With both witness and evidence, what else could I mean?” Chuxiu’s eyes lost all softness, sharp and icy as endless snow, piercing Wen Xian.

Intimidated by the deadly gaze, Wen Xian trembled, pleading, “Madam, have mercy! This is a setup!”

“Oh?” Chuxiu asked coldly. “Then would you like the thugs who killed the second young master to confront you here in the prison?”

Wen Xian’s heart skipped a beat. Clearly, Chuxiu was prepared. She wondered silently whether the second household had uncovered something or if Luan Qing had reported her.

As she pondered this, Chuxiu’s gaze grew colder, accompanied by a sneer: “Last night, Zhuoyan appeared in my dream, weeping bitterly, saying she died unjustly.”

“Zhuoyan is dead?” Wen Xian feigned shock. “Wasn’t she said to have moved to another residence to rest after the second young master’s death, so as not to be reminded of him?”

The gentle lady before her, no more than forty, played the part so convincingly that if Chuxiu had not witnessed Zhuoyan’s death personally at Jing Garden’s lotus pond, she might have been fooled.

“If the third madam were acting on stage, she’d be a famous actress by now,” Chuxiu mocked.

This remark seemed to truly anger Wen Xian. Her expression darkened. “Madam, the situation is unclear now. Accuse me unjustly all you like, but why insult me as well?” In both Naxi and Beixi, actors held the lowest status; being compared to a “famous actress” was an insult.

“Third madam, there is no need to be angry. Is what I said not true? You’ve played your role in this house for over twenty years. I have even received messages from Zhuoyan’s spirit about some matters concerning you.”

Before Wen Xian could respond, Chuxiu continued, “Zhuoyan said she was murdered in the lotus pond of Jing Garden. As she hovered between life and death, she heard the third madam confess her crimes, and there were accomplices.”

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At this, Wen Xian’s eyes suddenly widened in shock, gritting her teeth: “Madam, you cannot believe the fourth madam’s nonsense!”

“That’s curious,” Chuxiu said with amusement. “It was Zhuoyan’s spirit who appeared to me, so what does the fourth madam have to do with it? I never said who the accomplices were.”

Wen Xian dodged direct answers, insisting, “Madam, if you cannot judge this fairly, I cannot accept it. I want to see the matriarch.”

“You want to see the matriarch? She doesn’t want to see you,” Chuxiu replied patiently.

Wen Xian continued to feign innocence. “I served the late marquis for twenty years, bore his children, and am the legitimate third madam of the Yun household, recorded in the family genealogy! I cannot be insulted without reason!”

“After today, you might not be listed in the genealogy anymore,” Chuxiu said, locking eyes with Wen Xian and suddenly smiling. “Tell me, third madam, as the lady in charge of the household, if I wanted to take a madam’s life, would it be difficult? Would I have to sit here chatting with you?”

Hearing this, Wen Xian looked at Chuxiu in disbelief. Undeniably, the Lixin marquis’s wife could dispose of a concubine without much difficulty or the need for a convincing excuse. But she had thought Chuxiu was different…

“For extraordinary people, extraordinary methods are required. If I say you are guilty today, then you are guilty.” Chuxiu picked up a piece of paper from the table and casually tossed it before Wen Xian. “If you don’t want to suffer, just admit it. I’ll give you some dignity.”

Wen Xian trembled as she picked up the paper. A glance revealed words like “emotional poison,” “heart-piercing curse,” “witchcraft curse,” and “framing.” She exclaimed, “No! This isn’t true! I will never confess!”

Chuxiu shook her head with mock regret. “Why be so stubborn? I actually hoped that if you confessed and signed your name, I would immediately summon the third young master back so you could see each other and speak heart to heart. But since you won’t admit it, I have no choice…”

At this moment, Chuxiu deliberately paused, looking at Wen Xian as if waiting for her to ask.

“Have no choice what?” Wen Xian asked, her face fearful.

“I have no choice but to never let the third young master return,” Chuxiu said, pressing her lips into a smile, sighing meaningfully. “Then it won’t just be the third madam who is heartbroken, but the fourth madam as well—for quite some time.”

This was a death sentence for Yun Xian! Wen Xian finally lost control, her voice trembling: “What do you intend to do to Xian’er?”

“Do?” Chuxiu sneered coldly. “Merely returning the favor in kind. Whatever you did to the two previous marquises, I can do the same to the third young master.”

With her words laid bare, this was a blatant threat! Wen Xian rose swiftly from the ground, pointing at Chuxiu: “You dare!”

“Do I dare or not?” Chuxiu remained seated in the place of honor, her voice colder than before. “The third household cannot escape this charge. If you don’t confess, I will find a way to make the third young master confess. If the mother dies, the son lives; if the mother lives, the son dies. Third madam, the choice is yours.”