Chapter 18 The Zhao Family Has Gone Too Far.

Chapter 18 The Zhao Family’s Outrageous Cruelty.

In the pre-dawn darkness, before the first light of day, the drumbeats from the Heaven-Reaching Tower reverberated throughout the capital, signaling the end of the night curfew.

Only when the final drumbeat faded did A Chan reluctantly open her heavy, sleep-laden eyes.

Today was Xiao Lin Shi’s funeral, and it was a day for promptness. She needed to reach the Zhao residence as soon as possible.

After dressing, A Chan nudged the window open a crack. An icy gust immediately swept in, making her shiver. She quickly closed it again.

The weather today was bleak—fitting for a funeral.

As A Chan walked along the streets of Changping Ward, the shops on either side remained closed. Yet, she could faintly hear voices from a street vendor selling wontons. She had heard their meat wontons were quite delicious.

A Chan had risen unusually early today, finally having a chance to encounter the vendor. Unfortunately, she had already eaten a steamed bun with hot water before leaving home, leaving her stomach full and her palate unfulfilled. She could only regretfully save the treat for another time.

By the time A Chan arrived at the Zhao residence, the sky was still dim, but the courtyard was already bustling with people, judging by the lively sounds.

Entering, she saw the Zhao family gathered, their expressions grave as they faced the Mourning Hall. Soon after, several burly men carried out the coffin, followed by others who brought out the altar table, still bearing Xiao Lin Shi’s spirit tablet.

A Chan felt a pang of confusion. Wasn't the coffin only to be moved at the appointed hour? What were they doing?

Moments later, several Daoist priests emerged from the Mourning Hall.

The leading priest had a white beard and hair but a youthful face. Dressed in crimson ritual robes and holding a ritual bell, he was followed by seven other priests, each carrying a black wooden box. They appeared to be preparing for a ritual.

Seeing the priests, Zhao Ming stepped forward, his manner deeply respectful. "We are indebted to you once more, Daoist Priest Jingyun."

Jingyun smiled faintly. "Rest assured, Lord Zhao."

After this brief exchange with Zhao Ming, Jingyun turned to the altar table. The seven priests approached one by one, placing their black wooden boxes upon it.

Jingyun shook his ritual bell. The surrounding air suddenly stilled, yet the trees in the courtyard rustled violently. The coffin lid, resting in the courtyard, suddenly bucked upwards.

It was as if something inside was trying to burst out.

Among the Zhao family, young Zhao Wenqi hid behind the family matriarch, while Zhao Wenyue shrieked in terror, retreating several steps. Only Zhao Ming remained relatively composed, though his expression had darkened.

As the bell’s ringing ceased, Daoist Priest Jingyun turned to Zhao Ming with a troubled expression. "Lord Zhao, your wife died unjustly, her resentment unspent. Her soul shows signs of transforming into a vengeful ghost. You must decide quickly."

"What... what methods are there, Daoist Priest?"

Jingyun stroked his beard thoughtfully. "There are two methods. First, when your wife fully transforms into a vengeful ghost, I can personally disperse her soul. However, this would prevent her from entering the underworld."

"And the second method?"

"Seal her soul within the coffin, along with a Rebirth Talisman consecrated by our temple for many years, to slowly dissipate her resentment. However, it may take a hundred years for her soul's resentment to fade. At that point, the Zhao family would need to reopen the coffin to release her soul for reincarnation into the underworld."

Zhao Ming hesitated, seemingly finding neither option ideal.

But before he could decide, Zhao Wenyue shrieked, "Choose the second one! Father, we choose the second one!"

"But your mother’s soul would be sealed in the coffin for a century," Zhao Ming said, a hint of reluctance in his voice.

"That’s still better than her turning into a vengeful ghost and harming our entire family!"

"Wenyue is right. My daughter-in-law wouldn’t want to become a ghost that harms others," the Zhao matriarch hastily agreed.

Just as Zhao Ming was about to consent, a figure suddenly flung herself onto the coffin, embracing it and wailing, "You cannot do this to Madam!"

It was Sun Ma.

Sun Ma’s eyes were bloodshot and shadowed, as if she hadn’t slept all night.

"Someone pull her away quickly! Don’t let her disturb the Daoist Priest’s ritual!" Zhao Wenyue snapped, her face darkening at the sight of Sun Ma. She ordered the servants to drag Sun Ma away.

Sun Ma’s strength was no match for two strong servants, and she was quickly pulled away from the coffin.

As she was dragged past A Chan, Sun Ma cried out, "Miss, please, I beg you, speak up for Madam!"

Only after Sun Ma’s voice faded did A Chan turn to the Zhao family. She approached Zhao Ming. "Uncle, these two methods sound too horrifying. Perhaps there are other solutions. Surely you don’t wish for Aunt, who devoted half her life to the Zhao family, to meet such a tragic end?"

Zhao Ming remained silent, but Zhao Wenyue aggressively interjected, "Ji Chan, our family affairs are none of your business!"

A Chan’s expression remained calm. She looked at Zhao Wenyue, enunciating each word clearly: "The person lying in that coffin is my aunt, your birth mother."

Zhao Wenyue seemed startled by A Chan’s gaze and was momentarily speechless.

At that moment, Zhao Wenqi, who had been hiding behind the Zhao matriarch, spoke up. He said, "I believe Madam was kind in life and would not wish to harm anyone in death. But what if she truly becomes a vengeful ghost? Cousin, when you criticize Father and Sister, please consider Grandfather, Grandmother, Father, Sister, and all the servants in this household. The living are what truly matter."

What a self-righteous condemnation.

For one so young to be so articulate—no wonder the Zhao family cherished him.

After his words, even those in the courtyard who had been wavering now showed expressions of agreement.

After all, it was merely sacrificing Xiao Lin Shi, who might turn into a vengeful ghost. The person was already dead; why care so much? Of course, those who were alive were more important.

Zhao Wenqi’s words sealed the matter. Zhao Ming patted Zhao Wenqi’s head and gave A Chan an apologetic smile. "This child speaks without thinking, but..."

He sighed again, then turned to Daoist Priest Jingyun. "Proceed as Wenyue suggested."

Daoist Priest Jingyun nodded in agreement and resumed the unfinished ritual.

A Chan watched coldly as Daoist Priest Jingyun used the blood of sacrificial animals to anoint the seven black boxes. When opened, each box revealed a coffin nail inscribed with intricate and profound talismans.

The seven coffin nails were then hammered into the coffin lid. With each nail driven in, a piercing shriek emanated from inside the coffin, until the last nail was in place, and then there was no sound at all.

When Daoist Priest Jingyun finally set down his ritual bell, everyone breathed a sigh of relief, as if they had just survived a life-or-death ordeal.

Yet, no one questioned why Daoist Priest Jingyun had prepared seven coffin nails in advance.

"The hour has come. Raise the coffin."

Unbeknownst to them, dawn had broken. With the ritual complete, it was time for the funeral procession.

Xiao Lin Shi’s coffin was carried out, with the Zhao family leading the way, followed by the Daoist priests, and then the Zhao household servants, all claiming they wished to see Madam off.

In an instant, the courtyard became empty.

The Zhao family’s funeral procession left the residence, heading majestically towards the city gates. A Chan did not follow.

She walked out of the Zhao family’s main gate, where a crowd of onlookers had gathered, gossiping amongst themselves.

Someone said, "That Madam Zhao didn’t have a good temperament. I heard she was killed by her own son—a truly tragic death."

Another replied, "It’s a pity for Lord Zhao, though. I heard he and his wife were deeply devoted."

"Indeed! I used to often see Lord Zhao buying snacks for his wife. Now she’s just... gone."

Listening to the idle chatter, A Chan stepped away from the crowd and headed home.

She hadn’t walked far when she suddenly heard someone call out from behind her: "Young lady."

A Chan turned around. It was Sun Ma.

The disheveled Sun Ma from earlier seemed to have tidied herself up slightly. She carried a cloth bundle on her back.

"Sun Ma, you..."

Sun Ma lowered her eyes. "Madam had already given me my indenture papers. Now that she’s gone, I cannot remain in the manor."

Earlier, the steward had found her and ordered her to leave the Zhao residence immediately.

It was just as well; she had no intention of staying anyway.

That entire household—their hearts were black.

"In that case, Sun Ma, why don’t you come to my place and rest for a while?"

Sun Ma nodded. "That would be kind. There are some things I wish to tell you."

The two walked back to A Chan’s home. Entering the somewhat empty shop, Sun Ma did not go upstairs to rest but instead sat with A Chan at the table.

A Chan had only boiled some hot water for herself before leaving, so now she could only offer Sun Ma water.

Sun Ma held the steaming teacup, her tightly strained expression seeming to relax slightly.

She took a sip of the hot water, clearing her throat, before speaking. "Miss, after today, I will be leaving the capital."

A Chan was not surprised. Given what had transpired in the Zhao household, especially with Zhao Wenyue, Sun Ma would likely not be tolerated there.

"Where do you plan to go?"

"I should have returned to my hometown years ago, but I couldn’t bear to leave Madam. I kept delaying it. Madam even told me to stay and live out my old age there. Who knew such a sudden change would occur?" As Sun Ma spoke, tears streamed down her face.

A Chan offered no words of comfort, simply waiting quietly until Sun Ma’s sobs gradually subsided before asking, "Do you have enough travel money? If not, I can..."

Sun Ma shook her head, not allowing A Chan to continue.

"Madam bestowed upon me a good amount of silver. It’s more than enough for my journey home, and I won’t have to worry about my future. I came to you, Miss, because there’s something I must tell you.

I am useless. Even knowing the truth, I could do nothing for Madam. But at the very least, I must tell you. You are Madam’s only living relative."

Sun Ma’s expression was solemn, and A Chan also grew serious. "Please speak, Sun Ma."

"Master... Zhao Ming was having an affair with Mrs. Su, and they had that Zhao Wenqi. I suspect the old master and mistress knew about it."

Seeing A Chan’s expression remain unchanged, Sun Ma gave a bitter laugh. "When did you find out, young lady?"

"I had my suspicions yesterday," A Chan countered. "What about you, Sun Ma?"

Sun Ma’s eyes reddened again as she recalled the previous night. "Last night, I went to the mourning hall and happened to see Master... Zhao Ming there. He was speaking to Madam’s coffin, and after a while, that woman also arrived. They were shameless, even embracing in front of Madam’s coffin."

A Chan frowned. "What did you hear?"

Sun Ma’s face paled, and her eyes involuntarily showed a hint of fear. "I heard him say that the eldest young master was a good-for-nothing, and he couldn’t let a good-for-nothing inherit the family. To allow Zhao Wenqi to legitimately remain in the household, someone had to be sacrificed."

"And what else?" A Chan’s voice grew colder.

Who was sacrificed? Zhao Wensheng or Xiao Lin Shi, or both?

"That woman said she wanted to offer incense to Madam, but Zhao Ming said Madam didn’t deserve it. He even claimed Madam had killed their child." Sun Ma’s voice grew more indignant as she spoke. "Our Madam knew nothing about any child! If she had, she would have divorced Zhao Ming long ago. None of this would have happened today!"

"Besides these, there’s actually one more thing..." Sun Ma hesitated, unsure whether she should continue.

"Tell me."

A Chan’s calm demeanor seemed to reassure Sun Ma. She composed herself before continuing, "When I left yesterday, I made quite a bit of noise and was almost discovered. But the mourning hall door suddenly closed, blocking him for a moment. I wondered if Madam... hadn’t left yet? Did Zhao Ming realize this and then seek out that wicked Daoist Priest to perform the ritual?"

"It’s not impossible." A Chan was now an ordinary person and couldn't easily see ghosts, but the Daoist Priest's methods today didn't seem fake.

It was likely that Xiao Lin Shi’s soul was still present, but whether she would turn into a vengeful ghost was hard to say.

Sun Ma choked back a sob. "Miss, our Madam had such a bitter life. Deceived while alive, and not even peace after death. I shouldn’t have come to you with this, but I was afraid... if I didn’t tell you, one day when I am old and dead, no one would remember the suffering Madam endured."

A Chan’s tone was serious: "Sun Ma, A Chan has taken everything you said today to heart."

Tears welled in Sun Ma’s eyes. "It is this old servant who has failed Madam. I knew the truth, yet I could do nothing."

"Sun Ma, evil people will face retribution."

"But when will retribution come?" she murmured to herself.

She knew the truth, but she had no evidence, and no one would believe her.

Zhao Ming was too good at disguising himself. In a few years, when no one remembered Madam, he could marry that woman and she would replace Madam’s position.

Their son could also inherit the Zhao family.

Would she live long enough to see the Zhao family’s retribution? No one could give her that answer.

Sun Ma left. After seeing her off, A Chan tightly closed the door. In the dim room, she sat at the table, looking at the now-cold white water in her cup.

She was not Ji Chan, and Xiao Lin Shi was not her blood relative.

But at this moment, a nameless fire ignited in A Chan’s heart.

The Zhao family had gone too far.