Chapter 35 Chapter 35

Chapter 35

1

In the secluded and tranquil Gentleman's Courtyard, Chen Gujun leaned back in a reclining chair, staring wordlessly at the moon in the sky.

The cold moonlight etched his lonely shadow on the ground.

A strand of white hair hung down from his side, dry and completely lacking any shine.

He closed his eyes. The rocking chair swayed gently, letting out a soft creak.

—

Lin Chenxin pressed her back against the door behind her, her eyes wide with shock as she looked at the scene inside.

Countless ancestral tablets faced the entrance, their eerie silhouettes flickering and swayed sinisterly among the red candles.

She held her breath, her heart nearly stopping. Only after a long moment could she force herself to take a difficult step forward.

The Chen family had a history of several hundred, perhaps even a thousand years. Within the grand ancestral hall with its soaring ceilings, the neatly arranged tablets resembled a towering mountain of dark clouds pressing down.

Standing directly before them, Lin Chenxin felt minuscule, like an insignificant speck of dust in the vast expanse of time.

The sheer, direct impact riveted her gaze.

Under the gaze of countless tablets, their imposing majesty bore down on her with immense pressure, making her instinctively want to prostrate herself, to press her forehead to the ground in submission, and even feel afraid to look directly at them.

The solemn aura made it seem as if even breathing heavily here would be a desecration.

Lin Chenxin slowly took a step forward, the red glow of the candles flickering in her eyes.

Just as she touched the prayer mat, the longevity lock on her wrist suddenly emitted a crisp sound. With a start, she snapped back to her senses, and a bone-deep chill made her stumble back.

She clutched the clothes over her heart, her eyes narrowed as she stared at those tablets.

How terrifying.

This place actually wanted her to kneel before the Chen family ancestors.

Once her mind cleared, her firm resolve pushed back the oppressive atmosphere a little.

Lin Chenxin closed her eyes and let out a shaky breath, tightening her grip on the longevity lock in her hand.

Then she opened her eyes, her gaze clear and bright as she looked ahead.

Looking at these tablets again, she suddenly no longer felt an overwhelming sense of oppression, but rather a heavy, uncanny feeling.

She didn't waste time and turned to examine her surroundings.

Usually, in solemn places like ancestral halls, the family genealogy would be kept. For a family like the Chens, who placed extreme importance on honor, there might also be family records recording their illustrious deeds.

She looked at the rows of red candles around her. Thick darkness cloaked the space around the candles. There was no wind, yet the candle flames flickered eerily.

Not seeing any special cabinets, she turned her gaze to the altar table directly ahead.

In the very center sat a perpetual lamp. Its flame was not strong, yet it seemed to burn with an unending vitality.

She walked over, touched the tabletop, then mustered her courage to lift the tablecloth and peer into the dark space beneath the table.

Seeing nothing, she frowned slightly.

Then, a thought struck her, and she tentatively reached her hand under the table.

With a *click*, a book fell into her palm.

Her eyes lit up, and she immediately pulled the book out.

It was indeed the genealogy.

Having weathered who knows how many eras of change, the genealogy was very thick. The pages inside had yellowed, yet they seemed to have been repaired using some special method, feeling thick and somewhat glue-like to the touch.

She sat on the prayer mat, taking a few red candles from nearby and placing them in front of her.

As soon as she opened the first page, her eyes widened, and she gasped.

She carefully calculated, unable to hide the shock in her eyes. The Chen family truly had a thousand-year history.

Many people were recorded, though most died very young. Below each name were their birth and death years.

What exactly happened...

A shudder ran through her as she remembered that era should have been one of the most chaotic and miserable times for the people.

Famine and war alone were sheer torment.

It was a true era of "man eating man."

Breathing rapidly, she continued reading, then suddenly let out a soft "Huh?"

Seeing the newborns recorded, a flicker of doubt passed through her eyes. She flipped several pages in succession and discovered that not only did the Chen family show no signs of decline, but from the very first generation, the population had grown on a steep, consistent climb. The entire family had flourished in a sudden and bizarre manner.

It wasn't that there couldn't be newborns, but in an era where mere survival was a struggle, a sharp population decline was inevitable.

Forget maintaining the status quo; as commoners, they'd be lucky just to avoid extinction, especially during wartime when even large clans would fracture and scatter.

Yet the Chen family's prosperity seemed abnormal.

Her gaze sharpened. She flipped back to the starting page and noticed that one person's name had been blacked out.

Flipping further, strange details emerged.

Every subsequent Family Head had at least two wives.

The first wife passed away without leaving any offspring, while the second wife did everything possible to bear children and expand the family line.

Why "everything possible"? Lin Chenxin saw that in one generation, a wife had given birth to nearly a dozen children.

Given the standard of short lifespans at that time, it seemed she had been bearing children from the moment she married until her death.

The birth and death years below confirmed this fact.

The year her youngest child was born was also the year of her death.

And that Family Head soon took a third wife.

However, the third wife had only one child.

Flipping through the next dozen or even twenty-some pages, the Chen family consistently displayed a state of vigorous prosperity, with descendants seemingly endless.

What was eerie, however, was that the first wife of every family head was not recorded as having any children.

She recalled the name crossed out on the first page.

Was it that they had no children, or that the children they bore were not entered into the family tree?

Lin Chenxin's heart skipped a beat.

With a blazing gaze, she quickly flipped to the last page. Reading the words there, she couldn't help but grip the thick pages tightly.

Mr. Chen's first wife, also Chen Gujun's mother, was not listed as having any children.

In other words, Chen Gujun's name was not in the family tree.

Seeing this, she closed her eyes, unsure of what she was feeling.

Chen Gujun's existence had been erased just like that.

At the same time, could this also prove that throughout the Chen family's thousand-year history, there had been countless individuals like Chen Gujun?

She opened her eyes, staring intently at the family tree in her hands.

What exactly had the Chen family done?

Was Chen Gujun's existence a protection for the family, or a curse from it?

Collecting herself, she read on.

Slowly, the number of people in later generations began to decrease. The once-thriving Chen family seemed to be in decline.

There was even a generation with only one child.

Another strange point was that almost at the moment a newborn was born, a generation's Family Head would die, with a gap of at most a year or two. And the later it went, the more precise the timing became, almost to the point of simultaneous transition.

For example, the very moment the young master was born, Mr. Chen's father died at the same time.

In the flickering candlelight, Lin Chenxin couldn't help but feel a chill run down her spine.

She closed the family tree in her hands, took several deep breaths, yet still couldn't ease the oppressive weight on her chest.

The Chen family's genealogy had major flaws.

The biggest question was the meaning behind Chen Gujun's existence.

Could it be related to the first name that was erased?

And the most important point.

She stood up, her gaze sharp as she scanned the surroundings.

Why would a family like the Chens, who held themselves in such high regard and placed extreme importance on family honor, set the start of their family tree in such a chaotic era?

Since they could trace back to such a distant past, their records should extend back further. And if the family tree was lost or damaged during the turbulent times, when it was later restored, they wouldn't have chosen to begin at a time when the Chen family had suffered such heavy blows.

Even more bizarre was that from that point on, the Chen family entered a peculiar period of prosperity.

Choosing that time to begin the records must have held special significance.

Therefore, there should be a family chronicle here.

—

The second young lady kept glancing at Ms. Liang, who remained silent.

She couldn't stand the oppressively quiet atmosphere here, nor did she like the scent of traditional Chinese medicine lingering in the air.

She simply couldn't sit still any longer and couldn't help but say, "I'm going back to my room."

"Sit down."

Ms. Liang said without expression.

The second young lady pursed her lips and reluctantly sat back down on the chair.

Ms. Liang sat on the edge of the bed, her gaze fixed intently on the emaciated young master lying there.

Recently, the young master had fallen ill again, more severely than before, to the point where he could no longer get out of bed.

Everything he ate, he vomited back up, he often muttered in his sleep at night, and was easily startled by the slightest sound.

In just a few short days, he had become so thin his ribs protruded, his cheeks were sunken, his pale face marked by deep dark circles, as if he were already terminally ill.

The wind rattled the window. The young master shuddered all over, his eyes snapping open as he stared blankly and fearfully at the canopy above the bed.

Ms. Liang shot a sharp look at the second young lady.

"I... I just wanted some fresh air," the second young lady said uneasily, standing up to close the window again.

Ms. Liang patted the young master's body, her tone steady. "Xiaozhi."

The young master turned his head. The emptiness in his eyes made Ms. Liang's heart clench.

She lowered her voice gently. "Xiaozhi."

The young master came to his senses as if in a daze, his gaze gradually focusing.

"Mother."

"I'm here."

Ms. Liang's calm demeanor and steady voice gave the young master a sense of security.

He let out a heavy sigh of relief. Seeing the second young lady in front of him, he spoke in a weak voice.

"Sister."

The second young lady pressed her lips together, looking at him. "Do you want some water? I'll pour you some."

The young master shook his head.

"What time is it?"

He propped himself up, looking at the light overhead, then at the tightly shut window.

His face was so thin it made his eyes appear enormous. As he looked around, his appearance was sickly and unsettling.

"It's not dawn yet," Ms. Liang said lightly.

Hearing these words, the young master instantly lost strength and lay back down on the bed.

"It's not dawn yet, the sky hasn't brightened..." he murmured, cold sweat beading on his forehead.

The second young lady felt her heart ache. She pursed her lips, her chest rising and falling, unable to hold back her words. "What does it matter if it's dawn? If you don't want to see anyone, then don't. You're still so young. I don't know what Father is so anxious about, pushing a perfectly fine person to this state..."

Meeting Ms. Liang's icy gaze, she shut her mouth, turned her head away with a snort.

It wasn't clear if the young master had heard what the second young lady said.

The words "the sky hasn't brightened yet" gave him an immense sense of security, and uncontrollable exhaustion washed over him in waves. Yet the thought that "the sky will eventually brighten" brought a sense of urgency, making his scalp prickle with tension and anxiety.

Lying in bed, he clutched the blanket, his eyes vacant and hollow, muttering incessantly to himself.

Ms. Liang watched the young master, her eyes holding a dark, unreadable glint.

She said softly, "The sky will not brighten."

The young master snapped his gaze toward her. His bloodshot eyes startled the second young lady, who then looked at Ms. Liang with confusion.

Only Ms. Liang's face was half-shrouded in shadow, her crimson lips parting in the half-light.

"The sky of the Chen family will never brighten again."