Chapter 146: Chanyue’s Dream 11

**Chapter 146 Chanyue's Dream 11**

As she spoke these words, her daughter Chanyue sat on a stool nearby.

The room was dim, with no candles provided by those people. Only moonlight seeped through the window, casting a faint glow on Qin Chanyue, barely illuminating half of her clear and cold face.

Qin Chanyue resembled her—her brows, her features, the contours of her face. She sat there as if oblivious to Concubine Li’s suffering. Only when Concubine Li called out to her did she finally lift her gaze.

She had witnessed Concubine Li’s torment, and it dragged her into memories of the past.

Her father had died because of Concubine Li, and now, Concubine Li was dying because of the Marquis of Zhongyi. The cycle of karma had come faster than she had anticipated, leaving no time for her to act.

As you sow, so shall you reap.

A quiet thrill of satisfaction coursed through her. So when Concubine Li asked about the "Marquis" again, Qin Chanyue responded in the softest tone with the cruelest words.

"The Marquis never cared about us, Mother." She sat on the chair, staring at Concubine Li. "You were nothing more than a weed he carelessly yanked from the dirt, a flower snapped from a branch—never held any value. If he fancied a taste, he’d bring you to his lips for a chew. If not, he’d flick the stem away without a glance. Did you truly believe he would take you back?"

At this, Qin Chanyue seemed amused. Lowering her eyes, she added, "To him, you were never enough."

Concubine Li’s face twisted slightly.

Where had she gone wrong? Everyone knew the saying—water seeks its own level, but people climb higher!

She struggled violently on the bed, as if trying to sit up, to shout at Qin Chanyue, to cling to her dignity. But no words came out—only guttural, shuddering gasps from her throat.

Each breath sounded like the wheezing of a broken bellows. Agony lanced through her chest, then surged through her entire body. The pain pinned her down.

Death hovered close.

Her blood-veined eyes burned into Qin Chanyue. "What do you know—you—the Marquis is just angry with me for now! He’ll send for me—any day now!"

What do you know!

"Mother," Qin Chanyue looked at her face and suddenly let out a soft, almost imperceptible laugh. "Look at this room—four barren walls, not a drop to drink. The Marquis never intended for you to live. Even a mere servant on the carriage could kick you. You stopped mattering long ago."

Qin Chanyue had always suspected that the servant had done it deliberately. That kick was a killing blow—aimed squarely at the chest, enough to take half a life. And after they were dumped here, no one had come to check on them. It felt deliberate, as if leaving Concubine Li to rot.

Those concubines had taken such a risk to frame her—of course they would want to eliminate her completely. Finishing her off was inevitable.

As for why Qin Chanyue hadn’t died—perhaps they feared Madam Pingyu, or worried about the marriage alliance from the polo tournament. Or maybe two corpses in a day would raise suspicion. In their eyes, once Concubine Li was gone, Qin Chanyue would never return to the marquis’s household.

After all, no matter how reckless the Marquis was, he wouldn’t make Qin Chanyue his mistress. Barring a miracle, Qin Chanyue would never step foot in that household again.

At this point, Qin Chanyue tilted her head slightly. "Mother, do you remember when you last took sick?"

When you last took sick—

Concubine Li’s thoughts drifted hazily.

It had been long ago. She had just made a new set of clothes, so lovely she braved the cold to show them off.

Then she caught a chill.

Back then, Qin Chanyue and her late husband had both tended to her. Qin Chanyue brewed medicine, while her husband tucked the blankets around her bedside, chiding her softly, "Our daughter is already grown, yet you still fuss over your looks like this."

Though his words were scolding, there had been a faint smile on his face—as if looking at a wayward child.

Warm yellow lamplight bathed his features. She had lain there, feverish but wrapped in thick quilts, enveloped in warmth.

It was so warm.

Tenderness and love once warmed these bedchambers, yet at the time, it all seemed nothing but ordinary.

In that dazed moment, Li Yiniang suddenly heard Qin Chanyue whisper with a low laugh, "When you killed Father, did you ever imagine this day?"

Li Yiniang's face turned pale, and she instinctively cried out, "It wasn't me!"

Qin Chanyue did not argue with her. She only sat there quietly and murmured, "You can explain yourself to my father in the afterlife."

She sat there, watching her die.

Li Yiniang began coughing up large amounts of blood.

Her vision blurred, then darkened, until she collapsed onto the hard pallet, her breath fading into silence.

As Qin Chanyue sat there, she thought—back then, one of the villains had died. Now, only the second remained.

Li Yiniang had perished as she deserved, but the Marquis still lived.

Although the murder of her father might not have been directly ordered by the Marquis, he was undeniably complicit, having helped Li Yiniang cover up many things behind the scenes.

So his retribution—she would be the one to deliver it.

As she watched Li Yiniang take her last breath, Qin Chanyue wondered: what was happening now at the Marquis's estate?

——

A flurry of activity stirred the Marquis’s estate.

Madam Pingyu had received Qin Chanyue’s message and, upon hearing the full story, fell silent for a moment—then took no action.

She thought: since the engagement had already been broken, the girl had outlived her usefulness. Added to that was the unsavory matter of Gu witchcraft—it would be better simply to send her away.

After all, her death wouldn’t matter much.

These lowborn individuals—disposable like chaff in the wind. Whether they lived or died was of little concern to those in power.

Sometimes it wasn’t even that others wanted them dead—it was simply more convenient if they were. So why not? It wouldn’t affect the powerful, nor stop the Marquis from favoring the next concubine.

But when Chu Hang returned, everything escalated.

The moment he learned that Qin Chanyue and Li Yiniang had been cast out, his heart clenched in his chest.

*Chanyue—*

After demanding answers, he immediately launched an investigation into the Gu insect affair within the estate.

Truthfully, the schemes of the concubines weren’t particularly sophisticated or mysterious—it was just that the Marquis couldn’t be bothered to intervene. He wasn’t unaware; he simply didn’t care.

Yet when Chu Hang conducted a thorough inquiry, the truth surfaced quickly—who had manipulated Li Yiniang, who had given her the insects, and why.

Within the hour, he uncovered the entire story.

Two rival concubines from other courtyards, long bullied by Li Yiniang, had exacted revenge.

Technically, harem affairs were not Chu Hang’s responsibility, but he saw red. Without even informing Madam Pingyu, he had the culprits arrested and declared they would be dragged before the Gu Control Bureau—to be dealt with according to law!

In Great Chen, even whispering the word “Gu” chilled the blood. The Gu Control Bureau was staffed by brutal interrogators. Once someone was taken by the Bureau, a death sentence was guaranteed.

If these people were sent to the Bureau of Gu Suppression, none would come out alive—not just them, but even those who sold the gu worms and the maidservants involved would die. If mishandled, even the Marquis's estate could be implicated.

The Marquis of Zhongyi had ignored the matter, yet Chu Hang inexplicably took it upon himself. The whole women’s quarters were on edge, none understanding why he was so invested in this affair.

Hadn’t he always despised Yiniang Li and the baggage she brought along?

In the chaos, someone hurried to inform the Marquis—who was off whoring again at the time.

The gu worm incident in the estate disgusted him, making the women back home even more unbearable, so he sought newer playthings outside.

As the saying goes, “The wife at home can't compare to a concubine, and a concubine can't compare to a stolen fling.” He was bored stiff with his harem and preferred the novelty of women elsewhere.

He should have been drunkenly asleep in the brothel, but just as he was enjoying himself, a servant rushed in. From the servant’s words, he learned that Chu Hang intended to send those women to the Bureau of Gu Suppression!

Was he really turning on his own family?

What if their family faced censure for this? Those damn capital censors were worse than flies on dung! If they got wind of this, they’d clamor for days! He barely kept his head above water as it was, and now Chu Hang had to stir up more!

Household scandals should stay behind closed doors—why must they be blown up? This shit should’ve stayed buried!

Why did this wretched boy have to be his son?

The Marquis didn’t dare delay for a moment. He hurried out of the brothel to find Chu Hang.

But Chu Hang wasn’t in the estate.

“The young master left after settling the affair,” a servant said.

“He must be off to rat me out to the authorities! Take me to him at once!” the Marquis urged. “Hurry!”

The servant quickly led the way—not toward the government offices, but outside the city.

The road got rougher and more deserted, heading straight beyond the city walls.

Where had Chu Hang gone?

—

Chu Hang had gone to find Qin Chanyue.

Ever since learning that Qin Chanyue and Yiniang Li had been framed and driven out, his guts had been in knots. He feared something had happened to Qin Chanyue.

So he couldn’t even wait for others to fetch her—he rode out of the city himself.

The horse’s hooves pounded as stars blurred overhead.

The moon sailed through the night sky as the cold wind met him.

His face grew numb from the ride, but he didn’t dare stop for even a moment.

A fire burned in his chest, his mind fraught with thoughts of Qin Chanyue.

Qin Chanyue, delicate and dependent, first wronged, then shipped off to that godforsaken farm—Chu Hang knew exactly what kind of people lived there. They were the Marquis’s tenant farmers, who would do anything at his command.

What hell must she be going through in such a place?

He spurred his horse harder, racing through the outskirts toward the farm.

But the situation was far worse than Chu Hang had imagined. When he and his men kicked in the farmhouse gate, all they found was a crumbling, weed-choked yard and a locked back room.

Chu Hang had seen scenes like this before—women dumped here never made it out alive. They'd end up hanging themselves inside those rooms.

What about Qin Chanyue? Had she done the same?

Face white as a sheet, Chu Hang approached, his hand frozen on the door.