Chapter 16 Chapter 16

Chapter 16

1

Lin Chenxin stood frozen, staring at the message on her phone.

After a moment, she put her phone away and sent no reply.

She gazed ahead calmly, her face betraying no reaction to the matter.

—

The Junzi Courtyard had its own kitchen, but it had long been abandoned—even the stove had collapsed, remaining only as an old-fashioned earthen stove built of mud.

The weather was fine today, and there was considerable activity in the Junzi Courtyard, making it livelier than in past years.

The Second Young Miss stood outside the courtyard, leaning sideways to peer through the moon gate. She refused to step inside even once—as if avoiding something, or perhaps fearing it.

Watching the commotion within, she scoffed, “Who knows what nonsense they’re up to.”

She looked down upon someone like Lin Chenxin, who came from humble origins—especially since the other had willingly sold herself into the Chen family for money, which struck her as vulgar beyond redemption, unfit for decent company.

After watching for a while, her gaze was irresistibly drawn to the four brand-new red lanterns hanging along the long corridor.

These two rooms were the only ones in the entire courtyard adorned with new lanterns. All other doors remained tightly locked, and the lanterns beneath the eaves had long since deteriorated and weathered, leaving behind only corpse-like remnants that might crumble to dust at any gust of wind.

The four vivid red lanterns stood out starkly against this decaying backdrop—like the sole candle flame flickering within a sinister old mansion—sparking an uncontrollable curiosity about who lived inside.

The wind stirred the tassels beneath the lanterns. The Second Young Miss’s breath caught slightly. Even standing beneath the blazing sun, she felt a chill run down her spine.

She had wandered into this place only once as a child—by accident.

That had been many years ago.

Back then, her family had taught her she could go anywhere—except here.

But her exquisite little leather ball had rolled in with a rumble, deeper and deeper into the dim twilight. Fearless and proud, she believed there was nowhere in this mansion she couldn’t go.

So, ignoring the servants’ warnings, she charged in headlong, driven by rebellious impulse. Before she could even pick up the ball, a hand reached down first and lifted it from the ground.

Bent over, her pupils dilated in shock as she stared at the pair of feet now halted before her—pale, gaunt feet shackled with heavy, coarse fetters. Bluish-purple bruises and grotesque scars suggested the flesh around the ankles had repeatedly festered and healed—an endless, horrifying cycle.

While she stood stunned, those hands handed the ball to her. Their sharp, black fingernails seemed capable of piercing her eyes. Her face paled; when she regained her senses, her whole body trembled uncontrollably.

When she clearly saw the sigils etched onto that skin, her heart constricted. She couldn’t even muster a scream before fainting on the spot.

In the last second before losing consciousness, she saw only a face resembling that of a youth—standing there with downcast eyes, silently watching her.

Since then, she had never dared set foot here again.

As for her beloved little leather ball, she hacked it to pieces with scissors—slashing even the exquisite embroidery into shreds—then threw it into the fire to burn to ashes. Only then did the suffocating gloom in her heart ease somewhat.

She knew that person was her half-brother—but she had never regarded him as an elder brother.

He was a cursed monster.

Thinking of this, the Second Young Miss’s breathing grew somewhat labored.

Regarding family matters, she knew more than the Young Master. Not only was she aware of the purpose behind that elder brother’s existence, but she also knew that the previous two “sisters-in-law,” even if they hadn’t died suddenly on their wedding night, would not have lived long.

Thinking of this, the Second Young Miss—her face somewhat pale—calmed her breathing and looked directly at Lin Chenxin, who sat leisurely in the courtyard sipping tea.

Her eyes were faintly cold, holding both the arrogance of looking down upon Lin Chenxin and a trace of barely perceptible pity.

Finally, she glanced at this desolate, remote courtyard.

From that hurried glimpse years ago, her impression was that this place was even more eerie and terrifying than a nightmare—like an unvisited haunted house.

Now, it remained just as desolate. Yet beneath the sunlight, some of its oppressive aura seemed to have dissipated. Beneath the guardrail, the two pots of withered potted plants had been replaced with brightly colored rice-paper flowers. Though lifeless, these flowers added a touch of vitality and liveliness to this silent, dead courtyard.

She looked at Lin Chenxin again—her eyes flickering with complex emotions.

Noticing the Second Young Miss’s gaze, Lin Chenxin turned her head.

But the Second Young Miss quickly averted her eyes and walked away without looking back.

Watching the Second Young Miss’s retreating figure, a thoughtful glint flashed in Lin Chenxin’s eyes.

The kitchen had been tidied up. Lin Chenxin waved her hand grandly and generously gave everyone a red envelope—filled with cash, no less.

Spending the Chen family’s money, of course.

The servants departed overjoyed.

They were no longer afraid of this remote, desolate courtyard. They even looked forward to returning if such favorable opportunities arose again.

As she left, the young woman passed by Lin Chenxin and whispered, “The Master and Madam reside in the Lanting Courtyard. The Second Young Miss lives in the Chaoyang Courtyard. The Young Master resides in the Changsheng Courtyard—the main courtyard among them.”

Having said this, she lowered her head and walked away expressionlessly.

No one could tell she had spoken such a lengthy sentence in that brief moment.

Lin Chenxin’s expression remained unchanged—as if she had heard nothing at all.

Only after everyone had left did Lin Chenxin feel a sudden chill in her heart.

Changsheng Courtyard.

Such a grand name.

Weren’t they afraid it might shorten his lifespan?

That day, Lin Chenxin had seen only the scene of myriad blossoms in brilliant hues—she hadn’t carefully examined the inscriptions carved on the courtyard gate.

Now, recalling it, she realized with a start that not only was that courtyard spacious and bright, but its orientation also appeared remarkably auspicious.

Whereas the Junzi Courtyard was the most secluded—shaded and situated in the darkest corner.

If placed on a map, it should be…

Lin Chenxin turned her body based on memory—and suddenly her pupils trembled.

Due west.

Then, thinking of the Second Young Miss’s Chaoyang Courtyard—if interpreted literally—meant the brightest place, where the sun rises during the day: due east.

Then the Lanting Courtyard must lie either directly ahead or directly behind.

Given the existence of the most mysterious and grand ancestral hall, Lanting Courtyard was most likely straight ahead.

Then that old tree...

She raised her head to look at the green branches covering the roof, and a feeling of the incredible welled up inside her.

That old tree might be planted in the ancestral hall in the back courtyard, its wildly growing branches firmly enveloping these courtyards, voraciously absorbing their vitality.

Lin Chenxin’s breath hitched, and she felt dizzy.

She closed her eyes to collect herself, then lowered her head and rubbed her temples.

Just from this wild guessing, an immense sense of oppression had already welled up inside her.

The all-encompassing, suffocating pressure made it hard for her to breathe.

But all of this was still just conjecture.

She didn’t know the precise locations of the Second Miss and Mr. Chen’s courtyards.

Perhaps it wasn’t as uncanny as she imagined.

She let out a breath, managing to calm her emotions somewhat.

There were still many things she couldn’t make sense of, but that brief speculation had already stirred unease within her.

She couldn’t shake the feeling that the deepest secret, once uncovered, would turn everything she knew upside down.

Lin Chenxin clicked her tongue in frustration.

Still, she should focus on solving her own problems first.

The phrase "she doesn’t have many good days left" hung over her head like a guillotine.

Without figuring it out, she wouldn’t be able to sleep peacefully at night.

—

Hearing the sound of Lin Chenxin’s footsteps leaving Junzi Courtyard, Chen Gujun put down the book in his hand and looked out the window.

The knocking at the door had just stopped a moment ago, and Lin Chenxin's clear, bright voice from before she left still seemed to linger in his ears.

"I left something for you in the kitchen. Of course, I’m not bribing you to clean up the kitchen for me."

In the fading light of sunset, he stood in the newly renovated kitchen, gazing at the still-glowing embers in the stove before shifting his eyes to the pastries on the table. The flaky treats had left sweet crumbs on the oiled paper.

He lifted his thin, bony hand to pick up the warm pastry, his lowered eyelashes casting a faint shadow.

As the sweet, fragrant aroma filled the kitchen, a faint ripple passed through his dark eyes.

It seemed he didn't really understand his young "wife."