Chapter 17 Mourning Hall: Qi Yuan Has Returned

Chapter 17: The Mourning Hall – Qi Yuan Returns

With Zhou Congshen mediating and arranging, the funeral at the Chengping estate was not difficult to carry out.

Soon the mourning hall was set up, the coffin prepared, and the court was notified; the various families that had dealings with the Earl of Chengping’s residence also received the tragic news.

Ever since learning of her son’s death, Feng Shi had been bedridden and unable to get up; she had always been resilient and steadfast, widowed young and raising the frail and sickly Qi Hao alone, but in the end, the loss of her son was too much for her.

The earl’s relatives were few, and even fewer could help, so besides Zhou Congshen, Jiang Yueyi also carried a heavy load.

Every day she knelt before Qi Hao’s memorial tablet from morning to night, receiving mourners; by day’s end, her feet and knees were swollen, and being nearly seven months pregnant made it even harder. Without Zhou Congshen’s skilled medical care and daily checkups, the baby might not have survived the ordeal.

Jiang Yueyi’s body grew numb from kneeling, and when the discomfort became too great, she would often zone out.

It all felt unreal.

Qi Hao had always been ill; she had thought he might die of illness, but never imagined he would die in a fire.

How could he be gone?

She hadn’t even given birth, and he was dead?

It was absolutely absurd.

She was now a widow, and the child in her womb—boy or girl—how was she supposed to go on?

Qi Hao had promised her that if she wanted to stay, she could, and she would always be Lady Chengping.

But now?

Qi Hao indeed had not broken his promise, but she would be trapped in the Chengping estate for the rest of her life.

All she wanted was for herself and Concubine Gu to have a slightly better life; how had it come to this?

She had even looked the other way regarding Qi Hao and Su Hengniang, covering for them with Feng Shi, yet even that stifling life was beyond her reach.

Maybe she would never get what she wanted.

Every night, when the visitors stopped coming, gazing at the fluttering funeral banners, Jiang Yueyi felt completely drained; only the baby’s movements in her swollen belly reminded her she was still alive.

What could she do if she couldn’t get through this? Just like at Qi Hao’s memorial tablet—no one could take her place; she had to endure it herself.

She would get through it somehow.

As people came and went, Jiang Yueyi cried as if she would never run out of tears. Those who saw her widowed and pregnant pitied her even more, but only Jiang Yueyi knew that while her face wept, her heart was cold, like withered vines.

By the seventh day, most of the expected visitors had come; the mourning hall gradually grew quieter, with only Jiang Yueyi and a few female relatives from side branches remaining.

Jiang Yueyi kept crying, but Qing Lan came over quietly and said to her, “Miss, now that there are fewer people, you should cry less; take care of yourself.”

Covering her face, Jiang Yueyi whispered, “I know what I’m doing.”

As she spoke, another small commotion came from outside the mourning hall; the steward, thinking another mourner had arrived, hurried out and soon ushered someone in.

Jiang Yueyi paid no attention—too many people had come these days, some she knew, others not; Feng Shi wasn’t there, and no one told her how to address them—so she just lowered her head and cried.

Until Qing Lan tugged her sleeve from behind, making Jiang Yueyi look up.

Before her stood a tall, well-built figure, also looking at her. Their eyes met for a moment, then Jiang Yueyi lowered her head again.

Qi Yuan had returned.

Didn’t he say he’d never come back?

Had he returned because of the great tragedy in the earl’s residence, or because Qi Hao was dead and he wanted a piece of the inheritance?

Jiang Yueyi covered half her face with a handkerchief, leaving only her tearful eyes visible, one hand instinctively protecting her belly.

Qi Yuan saw Jiang Yueyi, who was crying like a pear blossom in the rain.

She wore plain white mourning clothes and a hempen cloth, no makeup, pure as moonlight falling on green bricks.

From her shape, her belly was swollen—clearly pregnant.

He hadn’t known this before coming; the estate had never been any concern of his.

A few days ago, he received news from the capital that Qi Hao was dead, killed in a fire. Upon receiving the letter, he immediately asked for leave and headed back to the capital.

It was absolutely unbelievable that Qi Hao could die in an accidental fire.

He was Feng Shi’s precious son; how could such carelessness lead to his burning to death?

By both emotion and reason, Qi Yuan felt he should return once more. He had said he wouldn’t return unless something happened, but Qi Hao’s death was a major event.

Qi Yuan looked around and asked Jiang Yueyi, “Where is the old madam?”

“She’s fallen ill,” Jiang Yueyi replied shortly.

She didn’t look at Qi Yuan, continuing to mourn in her own way, which Qi Yuan found somewhat shy.

As if she deliberately didn’t dare look at him.

Her eyes were slightly swollen from crying, but her pupils shimmered; after crying, they became even clearer, indescribably lovely.

Qi Yuan felt an inexplicable stir in his heart. Remembering this was his elder brother’s memorial tablet, he quickly turned away to avoid looking at Jiang Yueyi, momentarily dazed, feeling as if he had seen those eyes somewhere before.

He forcibly suppressed that vague thought, turned again, and said to Jiang Yueyi in a low voice, “Sister-in-law, get some rest; I will take care of things here.”

Jiang Yueyi was startled, then realized what Qi Yuan had said.

He was offering to take her place.

Qi Yuan was Qi Hao’s younger half-brother; it was proper for him to take over at the memorial tablet.

Jiang Yueyi slowly stood up, supporting her belly, gave a slight bow to Qi Yuan, and left without a word.

Xingyun Courtyard had burned down, so Jiang Yueyi was temporarily staying in Feng Shi’s Shuyu Pavilion, where they could look after each other.

As soon as she entered, she heard Feng Shi crying again from the Shuyu Courtyard. For the past few days, Feng Shi had been crying day and night, even though she was too ill to get out of bed. Whenever she was conscious, she cried, often fainting from weeping, only to start again once she woke up. No one could console her.

Jiang Yueyi still had to attend to the mourning hall, so she rarely saw Feng Shi during the day, only visiting at night. During the day, Feng Shi’s own family stayed with her. As for Jiang Yueyi’s own family, they had sent one of her uncles and a younger half-brother on the first day, then nothing more. Jiang Yueyi could guess how smug Wang Shi must be, but she had no time to think about that now.

Since she had returned much earlier today, Jiang Yueyi paused in the courtyard; Qing Lan saw this and asked, “Shall we go see the old madam?”

Jiang Yueyi thought for a moment, then shook her head. “No, let’s go back to our room first.”

She didn’t know if Qi Yuan had sent word to Feng Shi before returning, but his appearance at this time was certainly sensitive. Even if Qi Yuan had no such intention, it would inevitably stir up thoughts, especially in Feng Shi. If Feng Shi saw her coming back early, she would certainly ask questions, and if Jiang Yueyi mentioned Qi Yuan, it would be like stabbing another knife into Feng Shi’s already bleeding heart.

Now that Qi Hao was dead, the entire vast estate was still up in the air!

Why should she go out of her way to make herself unwelcome at Feng Shi's?

Fortunately, the Shuyu Courtyard had been in chaos these past few days, so no one noticed that Jiang Yueyi had quietly returned. Qing Lan helped her to the couch to lie down, removed her embroidered shoes, and found her feet already swollen.

"Alas, it's not even the day of the funeral yet. How can the lady endure kneeling for several more days?" Qing Lan said, telling Yu Ju to fetch hot water while she massaged Jiang Yueyi's feet.

Jiang Yueyi closed her eyes and rested for a while, then asked Qing Lan, "Has Cui Mei returned yet?"

Qing Lan called Cui Mei over. As soon as Cui Mei saw Jiang Yueyi, she blurted out, "Lady, I've already checked—Su Hengniang is missing."

Jiang Yueyi let out a cold laugh and opened her eyes, her gaze as cold as snow on a rock.

Feng Shi, naturally heartbroken over her only son Qi Hao, was too consumed by grief to have energy for anything else. However, Jiang Yueyi and Qi Hao were strangers in name only, a marriage in name only. Jiang Yueyi had already regained her composure a few days ago.

Her first order of business was to send someone to investigate.

Su Hengniang was indeed missing.

Cui Mei continued, "Originally, it was said she was living well. A few days ago, she suddenly vanished without a trace, as if she had disappeared into thin air. The house was left untouched, with no one attending to it."

Jiang Yueyi said nothing in response, only asking, "And what about the Su family?"

"After the married daughter of the Su family married off this concubine-born daughter, she abandoned all involvement. The Su family has no idea she's gone," Cui Mei said.

For a moment, no one spoke, all waiting for Jiang Yueyi to offer a plan. Qing Lan was gently pressing Jiang Yueyi's swollen legs and feet, but her hands trembled noticeably more than before.

After a long while, Cui Mei addressed Jiang Yueyi as "Miss" and asked, "Should we tell the old lady about this, or perhaps Young Master Zhou..."

"No," Jiang Yueyi raised her hand and said decisively, "Not a word about today's events is to be spoken. We have never known any Su Hengniang, nor do we know she disappeared after the master's death. Everything has nothing to do with us."

The maids exchanged glances. Qing Lan, who knew more, couldn't help but say, "In my humble opinion, it's better to get to the bottom of it sooner rather than later; otherwise, the longer it takes, the harder it will be to uncover anything."

Jiang Yueyi let out a soft sigh and said languidly, "The master is dead—that's something the whole capital knows."

Even the maids could see that Su Hengniang had vanished right after Qi Hao's death. There must be something wrong. It's not something a widow could do on her own. Where could she go? Someone must have taken her.

That corpse was burned black, impossible to identify. Only the build was similar to Qi Hao's, but in the end, it couldn't be completely confirmed. If Qi Hao had intended to fake his death, it wasn't out of the question.

Feng Shi certainly didn't know. She had no idea that after Su Hengniang became a widow, her son had secretly maintained contact with her. But Zhou Congshen was most likely involved in it—telling him would tip him off.

Qing Lan opened her mouth, slightly astonished, "If the master really isn't dead, miss, don't you wish for him to come back?"