Chapter 20 Chapter 20

Chapter 20: Chapter 20

1

The entire Chen estate was shrouded in a gloomy and oppressive atmosphere.

Servants stood at attention on both sides, their heads bowed, not daring to make a sound.

Mr. Chen walked briskly, his face as dark as storm clouds.

Ms. Liang, along with the Second Young Miss and the Young Master, stood at the entrance to the ancestral hall, their faces tense and uneasy as they looked toward the approaching Mr. Chen.

Yet Mr. Chen did not spare them a single glance. He strode directly to the ancestral hall and pushed open the red-lacquered, intricately carved door.

Inside, a towering tree that seemed to blot out the sky and sun stood rooted in the very center of the courtyard.

Its majestic canopy enveloped the entire ancestral hall. Its dense, luxuriant branches and leaves blocked out every sliver of light, while wildly growing limbs astonishingly climbed over the walls to cover the roof above.

Its robust and flourishing appearance was chilling to behold at a single glance.

One could not say whether such an ancient, colossal tree was a divine tree or a ghostly one. It was only known that from the day it first grew, it had taken root in the Chen estate for centuries, never withering.

But now, this tree was littering the ground with fallen leaves.

Seeing this, Mr. Chen's pupils contracted sharply.

"How could this happen!"

The sheer disbelief in his tone, carrying the weight of a catastrophe, ratcheted the tension to its peak.

The servants outside the door dared not look up. A faint, sinister aura seeped out, penetrating their pores. Even a glimpse from the corner of their eyes of the thick roots embedded in the threshold made them feel as if a massive stone were pressing on their chests, making it hard to breathe.

Seeing Mr. Chen's deathly pale face, the Young Master felt somewhat bewildered.

He knew this tree held great significance for the Chen family, but he did not understand the source of his father's world-shattering shock.

Yet the pervasive sense of gravity, like a tightly drawn bowstring, gripped his heart, filling him with a chilling unease.

The Second Young Miss was also pale-faced, her hands clenched into fists inside her sleeves.

Instinctively, she moved closer to her mother, trying to escape the suffocating air.

Ms. Liang's expression was icy. She lowered her head, her flickering pupils staring unblinkingly at the fallen leaves on the ground. On her tense, suppressed face, a bizarre expression involuntarily twisted into being.

Catching sight of this unintentionally, the Second Young Miss jolted, a chill running down her spine.

But in the blink of an eye, when she looked again, her mother had returned to her usual cold, expressionless demeanor.

She silently let out a sigh of relief.

It must have just been an illusion.

Yet that relief was short-lived, teetering on a cliff's edge, one step from a fatal misstep.

Mr. Chen suddenly looked toward the deep red wooden door ahead, strode over, and pushed it open.

The Young Master and the others hurriedly followed.

Inside the ancestral hall, with its high ceiling and dim light, were densely packed spirit tablets and flickering red candles.

On the altar in the center sat a palm-sized eternal lamp, its tiny flame swaying unsteadily.

Seeing the eternal lamp, Mr. Chen silently sighed in relief.

Trembling, he picked up incense sticks, knelt on the kneeling cushion, and touched his forehead to the ground in an extremely devout bow.

Then, in a hoarse voice, he said, "Come and offer incense."

The Second Young Miss and the Young Master each quickly took an incense stick. In the solemn and dignified ancestral hall, they simultaneously touched their foreheads to the ground in a respectful bow.

Ms. Liang stood to the side, her entire body shrouded in the dim light.

She watched this scene quietly, her face devoid of any emotion.

As the Second Young Miss straightened up, she inadvertently caught Ms. Liang's cold, gloomy gaze, and her heart skipped a beat.

When she looked again, Ms. Liang was standing with her head bowed, appearing very submissive.

She sighed in relief, yet felt an indescribable melancholy.

In her memory, her mother was allowed to enter the ancestral hall but was never permitted to offer incense.

She had asked her father, who had merely looked down at her and said, "She is not worthy."

After the incense offering, Mr. Chen completely relaxed. He looked at the neat rows of spirit tablets ahead, his gaze filled with profound respect.

The Young Master, perhaps not yet mature enough, could not fully comprehend the deep, intense emotion in his father's eyes, nor the suppressed pain within it. He did not understand how the two could coexist.

He followed his father's gaze upward. There were the tablets of his uncle, his eldest aunt, his grandfather, and ancestors from even further back.

Suddenly, his pupils contracted, his whole heart tightening violently.

Why—he did not see his eldest uncle's tablet.

When he was young, he had heard his mother mention once that his father had an elder brother, but he had died around the time of the Young Master's birth.

So why was there no tablet for his eldest uncle here?

Thinking about it now, he realized his father had never spoken of that eldest uncle, so much so that during his annual visits to offer incense, he had never noticed the absence.

His heart pounded louder and louder.

A sense of inexplicable tension made him involuntarily lift his head to look at the two conspicuous rows of spirit tablets covered with red cloth.

His father had never told him the origin of those two rows of tablets. Yet, he could occasionally sense from his father's attitude during incense offerings a mixture of extreme caution, wariness, and even more complex and intense emotion toward those tablets than toward the ancestors themselves.

In the flickering candlelight, those red-cloth-covered tablets shimmered with faint, indistinct red light. Shadows from childhood resurfaced in his mind; beneath the red cloth, it seemed as if pairs of dark, gloomy eyes were watching him.

*Boom!* A sudden clap of thunder roared outside. The wind lifted the edges of the red cloth, like a bride lifting her veil.

The Young Master let out a sharp cry, *thudding* to his knees on the ground, his whole body trembling.

"What are you shouting about!" Mr. Chen reprimanded sternly.

Another deafening thunderclap sounded, accompanied by a lightning bolt that seemed to tear the sky apart, striking directly onto the ancestral hall's roof.

Mr. Chen's expression changed drastically. The Second Young Miss also looked toward the door in terror.

Meanwhile, the Young Master, covering his head, shakily lifted his gaze. The wind lifted a corner of the red cloth, revealing a deeply carved stroke of a character. But before he could see it clearly, his eyes rolled back, and he convulsed, falling unconscious.

Second Young Miss and Ms. Liang whirled around to see the young master's face pale as paper, his lips bloodless.

Mr. Chen's expression darkened as he coldly spat, "Utterly useless!"

Ms. Liang looked up at Mr. Chen, then quickly lowered her gaze, clenching her sleeve. She said tonelessly, "Take the young master out."

Two servants with bowed heads entered. Without glancing sideways, they hoisted the young master onto their backs and retreated backward, heads still lowered.

Second Young Miss bit her lip, her heart in turmoil. Everything here felt profoundly eerie, and she wished she could flee immediately.

She had never liked this gloomy ancestral hall.

But this was the Chen family's centuries-old ancestral hall, enshrining all their ancestors. She dared not lose her composure, forcing even her fear deep down.

"Collect every fallen leaf in the courtyard without missing a single one."

Mr. Chen issued the order, and the middle-aged man waiting at the entrance immediately bowed respectfully.

"Yes."

Finally, Second Young Miss followed behind and exited the courtyard gate. As soon as she saw the carved gate close, her legs went weak with relief.

Just as she swayed unsteadily, Ms. Liang beside her firmly grasped her arm, her expression still cold and composed.

Pursing her lips, Second Young Miss trembled but steadied herself.

Outside, the sky had turned gloomy in an instant. After the thunder and lightning, not a drop of rain fell, yet a heavy darkness pressed down overhead.

Mr. Chen's eyes were gloomy, his tall and upright figure commanding authority even without anger.

He glanced sideways at Ms. Liang and said, "It seems you were right."

Ms. Liang lowered her eyelashes slightly, remaining silent.

Mr. Chen let out a cold laugh.

"He truly can't bear to part with it, but does a monster even understand love?"

Mr. Chen's voice thundered.

Second Young Miss's mind buzzed, her legs immediately giving way so she could no longer stand straight.

Ms. Liang held her arm with a grip so strong it felt like it could crush her bones.

Head bowed, teeth clenched, she trembled as she forced her legs straight, not daring to sway in the slightest.

A drop of icy rain fell. The sky darkened as if it were deep night.

Mr. Chen raised his head, a cold raindrop landing between his eyebrows.

His eyes were a tangle of cold, sinister, and eerie emotions.

—

Lin Chenxin, who had just boldly declared her determination to uncover the truth, came down with gastroenteritis that very evening from overeating at noon.

Weak and dehydrated, she lay in bed. Abdominal pain accompanied by a high fever and relentless nausea made her break out in cold sweat.

The intense discomfort brought on an overwhelming sense of weakness.

Hearing the rain outside, she couldn't help but worry about her seeds, fearing they might drown in the downpour.

Gritting her teeth, she curled her body, arching her back.

Darkness closed in from all sides. Apart from the torrential rain outside, the surroundings were utterly silent.

Her nose tingled with emotion. The loneliness and sorrow brought by illness broke through her defenses and surged forth.

Just as she was feeling sorry for herself, the door suddenly opened from outside. A tall, slender figure appeared in the doorway, framed by the wind and rain.

Lin Chenxin, who had been quietly crying, looked up, blinking her moist eyes, and heard a sigh of helplessness.

That sigh went straight to her heart. Self-pitying sadness turned into a grievance that stung her nose, though it soon transformed into a stubborn resolve to wipe away her tears.

She sat up, knees bent against the headboard, and stared intently at Chen Gujun's silhouette.

He walked in carrying a tray, and a strong smell of traditional Chinese medicine instantly filled Lin Chenxin's nostrils.

She felt nauseous again but held it back.

Chen Gujun stood before her, handing her the medicine from the tray without a word.

Yet Lin Chenxin looked at him and asked, "Did you brew it?"

Chen Gujun raised his eyes and replied softly.

"Mhm."

She sniffled, feeling an awkward sort of happiness.

After a moment, she turned and saw Chen Gujun's tall, slender figure. She couldn't help but lift her chin, looking at the edge of the bed and saying, "Why are you standing? Sit."

Chen Gujun didn't move, only offering her the still-steaming bowl.

This gesture displeased Lin Chenxin.

Frowning, she said, "Why stand so tall? It's really tiring to look up at you."

Chen Gujun seemed to sigh.

Lin Chenxin didn't catch it clearly, but in the blink of an eye, Chen Gujun was already sitting on the stool.

She paused.

Quite particular about etiquette.

The steaming bowl was presented before her.

She propped herself up, brows slightly furrowed, hesitantly taking the bowl. The temperature in her hands was just right—it had clearly been cooled.

After a brief silence, she took a deep breath and drank the bitter medicine in one go.

The relentless nausea was soon soothed by the warm flow that spread within.

She was somewhat surprised.

"Here."

She handed the empty bowl to Chen Gujun, looking at him with her bright, moist eyes.

Chen Gujun gazed calmly at Lin Chenxin's face.

The girl wasn't the least bit shy—she didn't cry out in pain, nor did she complain about the bitterness.

He took the bowl, turned his wrist, and slid half his hand into his sleeve.

As Chen Gujun turned to leave without a word, Lin Chenxin immediately called out to him.

"Wait."

Then she looked at his clenched hand, an idea coming to her. Without a word, she pried open his palm.

Her sharp fingernails slowly spread open, revealing a piece of candy nestled in his hand.