Chapter 438

**Chapter 445: Return to the Mansion (Part 2)**

Staring at Cui Er’s swaying feet in midair, Auntie Qin suddenly understood everything.

Though malaria was severe, it wasn’t untreatable. She was still so young—why would she die?

Auntie Qin felt stars burst before her eyes, her stomach churning violently before she fainted.

By the time she woke, it was already dusk.

The room was eerily quiet, while the two older women who usually attended to her sat outside the door, chattering idly.

"I saw three Nine of Bamboos on the table, so I played one too. Who knew Old Woman Wu would win? Talk about rotten luck!"

"At least you managed to win four rounds in a row later and recouped your losses. Me? I won over two hundred coins at first but ended up losing a hundred by the end. All in all, I lost more than three hundred coins."

"Speaking of which, Old Woman Wu’s luck has been really good lately. Out of the four of us playing, why was she the one picked to help with the funeral preparations? I heard she got two taels of silver as a reward!"

"Who’d envy blood money like that? That girl was pitiful—so young, yet she lost her life. If not for that, they wouldn’t have even given her a beechwood coffin."

That little bitch actually got a beechwood coffin!

Auntie Qin could no longer hold back. She sprang from the bed and rushed to the door, yanking at the latch—but the door didn’t budge. It was clearly locked from the outside.

Shaking with rage, her face burned hot.

"Open the door! Open it for me!" She tugged wildly at the latch again.

She wanted to drag that little wretch out of the coffin, rip open her chest, and see whether her heart was red or black.

After all she’d done for her—giving her old clothes, never forgetting to give her red envelopes during festivals—how could she betray her like this?

What did that Eleven Miss promise her to make her frame Auntie Qin like this?

It had puzzled her at the time. She had been perfectly fine, yet that little bitch insisted she had a fever and even blurted out the word "malaria." Back then, she had only heard of this illness from the Second Madam, who mentioned it was contagious. The Second Madam had spoken of it during a plague in Shanxi—otherwise, she wouldn’t have remembered. How would Cui Er, an uneducated maid, have known about it so clearly? Looking back, it was obvious someone had instructed her.

How hateful! She’d been on guard against everything, yet never expected betrayal from within her own household. In the end, she had been ruined by that little snake, Cui Er.

Auntie Qin’s furious shouts abruptly cut off the older women’s gossip.

One of them awkwardly said, "We’re just doing our job. We’re only following orders."

The other chimed in, "That’s right, Madam Qin. If you have anything to say, just tell us, and we’ll pass it on. But opening the door? We wouldn’t dare. What if we catch your sickness? We’re not like you—we can’t afford to call in imperial physicians or feast on ginseng and fleeceflower root. We don’t have that kind of fortune."

"Bullshit!" Auntie Qin slammed her hand against the door. "I’m not sick at all! Which deadbeat liar said I was? Just wait until my son comes back—he’ll make you pay!"

"What son?" One of the older women sneered. "What son do you have? Even if you gave birth to one, he’d be the Fourth Madam’s son. When did he ever become yours? Sounds to me you’re not just sick—you’re out of your mind..."

Before she could finish, the other woman interjected, "Why waste breath on her? Save your strength." Then she added, "By the way, Old Woman Wu said she’s hosting a gambling game at her place tonight. Are you going?"

"Of course! If I don’t go, how will I win back what I lost?"

They kept right on gossiping, completely ignoring Auntie Qin’s furious pounding on the door.

Her hands were raw from pounding the door, but the two older women outside paid her no heed. Slowly, dread settled in her chest.

Those servants were masters at kissing up to their betters and kicking the weak when they’re down. Before, they had fawned over her because the Second Young Master was favored by the Marquis. They bet on him going places, hoping he might throw them a bone someday. Now? Not a chance.

She stared, dazed and disoriented, at her palms—raw and stinging from frantically pounding the door—and collapsed onto the floor.

"How could this happen? How could this happen?"

If they had still been in the mansion, the elder madam might have shown some restraint out of concern for the family’s feng shui. But now, they were deep in the remote Luoyeshan Mountains, a place where Heaven wouldn’t answer cries for help and Earth wouldn’t heed desperate calls—a place utterly forsaken. Even if people were killed or a fire set, it could rage unchecked for half a day before anyone noticed.

How could she have been so foolish?

The thought flashed through her mind, making her feel like a fish on a cutting board, flailing helplessly under the knife, unable to escape being gutted and scaled.

No, no, no.

She wouldn’t admit defeat. She couldn’t just give up like this. She still had the second young master.

She’d sent the letter out. Once he returned, they wouldn’t dare lay a finger on her.

But then another worry struck her.

What if Cui Er, her maid, hadn’t delivered the letter at all?

Then… then she would be left to her doom.

But how could the Bodhisattva let her die?

All these years, the Bodhisattva had answered every prayer. Surely, this time would be no different.

With that thought, she stumbled into the rear sunroom.

The room was empty—utterly bare!

Only then did she realize: this was the mountain villa in Luoyeshan, not the Zhong family mansion of the Yongping Marquis. Where was her Bodhisattva?

Had she left it behind in the Yanjing home? She had completely forgotten it when she left… Was that why the Bodhisattva was angry, abandoning her here all alone?

Yes, that must be it. Otherwise, how could she have fallen so low?

Qin Yi dropped to her knees in the center of the sunroom, facing east with hands clasped in prayer, eyes tightly shut as she murmured: "Bodhisattva, this humble devotee, Qin Shi, has served you faithfully all these years—incense and fresh flowers never ceased to grace your altar..."

Her voice had not yet faded when the groan of an opening door echoed from outside the chamber.

She sprang up and rushed out—only to come face-to-face with someone familiar.

"Madam Du!" Her expression froze in shock.

"Qin Yi!" Madam Du's smile was deceptively warm and kind, but in this place, at this moment, it sent a chill down Qin Yi’s spine. "I’ve come on the elder madam’s orders to check on your condition." As she spoke, she stepped back, and two strapping matrons, built like men, seized Qin Yi by both arms.

"Madam Du, you mustn’t!" Qin Yi struggled and screamed. "When the second young master returns, he won’t let you get away with this!"

Madam Du only smiled, pulling from her robes a palm-sized glass vial. She popped the stopper free, stepped forward, and clamped Qin Yi’s jaw shut...

Meanwhile, Lady Eleven had just received word of Madam Tao’s demise.

She went to see the elder madam.

Since his fright, Xu Sizhun had remained bedridden, too ill to attend lessons. His nerves were frailer than ever; at the rustle of a leaf, he would clutch desperately at the sleeves of those nearby.

The weather was sweltering, but out of concern for Xu Sizhun’s health, the elder madam had placed only one lone ice block in the northeast corner of the room. After staying inside for long, the coolness became imperceptible, but stepping in from the heat outside, one could still feel a faint chill.

Xu Sijie and Xu Sizhun sat shoulder to shoulder, heads nestled together against the backrest, the former babbling excitedly to the latter about something.

At the sound of movement, Xu Sijie looked up and seeing Shiyiniang entering, immediately slipped off the heated bed platform and ran toward her. Xu Sizhun, on the other hand, said softly, “Mother.”

Shiyiniang patted Xu Sijie’s head and nodded at Xu Sizhun before asking the boys, “What are you doing?”

“Explaining to Fourth Brother about Mr. Zhao’s lesson,” Xu Sijie replied, taking Shiyiniang’s hand and leading her to sit on the heated bed platform before climbing back up himself to sit beside Xu Sizhun.

“Oh?” Shiyiniang smiled and chatted with them. “What did Mr. Zhao teach you?”

“Mr. Zhao told us stories about Sun Zhongmou, Cao Cao, and Sun Quan.”

Shiyiniang thought for a moment and smiled. “Has Mr. Zhao already started teaching you the ‘Brothers’ section from *The Primer*?”

Xu Sijie nodded, his eyes filled with admiration. “You’re so clever, Mother! You knew right away what Mr. Zhao taught us!”

“That’s because Mother has also read *The Primer*,” Xu Sizhun added with a laugh, finally getting a chance to speak. “Of course she recognized it right away.”

They chatted happily, the atmosphere warm and harmonious.

Eleven Miss nearly mentioned Madam Tao’s death several times, but held back each time.

The matter dragged on until after dinner, when Eleven Miss came to say goodnight to Xu Sizhun.

“Mother, do you have something to tell me?” Xu Sizhun looked at her seriously.

“You noticed!” Eleven Miss admitted candidly, then asked curiously, “How could you tell?”

Xu Sizhun smiled faintly. “Because Mother seemed distracted today.”

What a perceptive child.

The thought crossed her mind, making Eleven Miss hesitate more, but if he were to hear the news from someone else days later, wouldn’t it hurt him even more?

“There is something I wanted to tell you, but I wasn’t sure how to bring it up,” Eleven Miss said hesitantly. “At noon, Tao Cheng came to bring the sad news. He said… Madam Tao has passed away.” She spoke carefully, observing Xu Sizhun’s expression.

Xu Sizhun’s serene expression froze, then slowly shifted to shock, and finally to pain…

Eleven Miss pulled him tightly into her arms. “It was dysentery. Steward Bai even helped arrange for a royal physician to examine her…”

Xu Sizhun shook as she held him, his voice choked with tears. “So that’s why… Madam Tao didn’t come to see me when I was sick!”

He stated it as fact, not asking.

Eleven Miss felt her heart twist.

Xu Sizhun was just a child needing love.

“No,” Eleven Miss said gently but firmly. “She did come to see you. But you were unconscious at the time.”

The truth couldn’t stay hidden forever.

Better to tell him now than explain later.

Xu Sizhun lifted his head, his face wet with tears, his eyes filled with confusion.

“Madam Tao was so upset when she saw you like that, she collapsed,” Eleven Miss explained gently.

“We were afraid she would disturb you, so we sent her home the next day.”

Xu Sizhun seemed to accept this immediately.

The elder madam disliked people weeping, especially when he was ill, saying it was bad luck.

“Then… can Chaxiang come back to serve me?” He looked at Eleven Miss hopefully.