Sun Mama, who had been supported by others, suddenly lunged forward, her bloodshot eyes filled with anguish. She grabbed Zhao Wenyue’s arm and roared, “How could you do this to Madam? How could you treat her like this?”
Zhao Wenyue struggled to break free from Sun Mama’s grip, shouting in a breakdown, “What’s wrong with wanting to marry Young Master Xue? If Mother hadn’t kept opposing it, I wouldn’t have resorted to this. I didn’t want her to die—it was an accident!”
Sun Mama, unable to contain herself any longer, slapped Zhao Wenyue across the face, glaring at the daughter Madam had lovingly raised. “How could Madam have given birth to something like you?”
“You old hag, how dare you hit me!” Zhao Wenyue snapped. “It’s because you egged Mother on. If not for you, she wouldn’t have died.”
Even now, Zhao Wenyue tried to pin her mother’s death on others, refusing to admit her own fault.
The Zhao family’s drama ended in a complete mess.
“Take them away,” Bai Xiuming ordered.
The Mirror Division guards stepped forward to separate them. Lady Xiao Lin’s personal maids supported the distraught Sun Mama, while Zhao Wensheng and Zhao Wenyue were escorted out.
With the siblings gone, the courtyard grew much quieter.
Bai Xiuming turned to Sun Mama. “You were the first to find Madam’s body. Did you see the jade hairpin?”
Sun Mama struggled to recall the scene, picturing Madam covered in blood, with that still-living monster.
She remembered Madam was wearing the hairpin.
“I’m certain she was wearing it,” Sun Mama answered firmly. “Madam loved that hairpin and wore it all the time, except when sleeping.”
The thought that the hairpin might have caused Madam’s death brought Sun Mama to tears again.
Her words made Achan frown. When she had looked at Lady Xiao Lin’s body, there was no hairpin.
Could it have run off on its own?
She suddenly recalled her encounter at the West Market. If the hairpin contained a snow needle snake, it might indeed have slithered away.
At that moment, a Mirror Division guard reported, “My lord, we’ve searched the room and surroundings thoroughly. No hairpin was found.”
Bai Xiuming acknowledged with a grunt and turned to Jiang Kai. “Bring Lord Zhao back.”
Zhao Ming was soon escorted back to the main courtyard.
“Does Lord Bai have further instructions?” Zhao Ming asked coldly, his face tight with barely suppressed anger. Even someone known for his good temper couldn’t help but feel humiliated after today’s ordeal as a victim’s family member.
“The investigation into your wife’s murder is ongoing. Until the results are clear, please ensure your household is restrained,” Bai Xiuming said calmly, as if oblivious to Zhao Ming’s hostility.
“No need for Lord Bai’s reminder,” Zhao Ming replied curtly.
“As for your son and daughter, both are involved in this case and must be taken to the Mirror Division for questioning.”
Zhao Ming said gravely, “Understood. I will follow this case closely. I trust Lord Bai will investigate thoroughly and not wrong anyone.”
The investigation paused here, though the case remained unclear. The hairpin hadn’t been found, and who had used Zhao Wenyue to deliver it to Lady Xiao Lin, or their motives, remained a mystery to Achan.
As the Mirror Division guards withdrew in an orderly manner, Zhao Ming finally noticed Achan, who was preparing to leave.
He approached her, his expression still heavy with grief. “You must be Achan. Your aunt often spoke of you these past days.”
Achan stopped, bowing respectfully. “Greetings, Uncle. Please accept my condolences.”
Zhao Ming glanced at Bai Xiuming’s retreating figure, surrounded by his men, and sighed heavily. “What misfortune for our family. It’s my fault for raising such an unrighteous, unfilial beast who caused your aunt’s tragic death.”
Achan found his words odd. He seemed to believe his son, Zhao Wensheng, was the primary culprit, while his daughter, Zhao Wenyue, was innocent.
He had emphasized this point when speaking to Bai Xiuming earlier.
But from an outsider’s perspective, the jade hairpin Zhao Wenyue gave her mother was likely the true cause of Lady Xiao Lin’s death—otherwise, Sun Mama wouldn’t have been provoked to strike her young mistress.
Why was her uncle’s attitude so different? Achan suppressed her doubts and said, “It’s not your fault, Uncle. Please don’t blame yourself.”
Zhao Ming shook his head, his expression still dejected.
Achan glanced at the sky. It was certainly past curfew, but staying at the Zhao residence wasn’t appropriate. “Forgive me, Uncle, but it’s late, and I should take my leave.”
Zhao Ming couldn’t insist she stay. “I’ll have a servant escort you home.”
Achan declined. “No need. The Mirror Division lords haven’t gone far. I can travel with them.”
Though the Mirror Division’s route didn’t align with Changping Lane, that didn’t matter.
“Very well,” Zhao Ming said, his voice choking. “I’ll send someone to inform you when your aunt’s funeral is held.”
“Thank you for your consideration, Uncle. I’ll take my leave now.”
“Go on.” Zhao Ming watched until Achan’s figure disappeared before turning away.
He scanned the courtyard and said, “Seal the main courtyard. Everyone else, go rest.”
Without lingering, he headed toward his study.
Achan hurried out of the residence and, as expected, caught up with the Mirror Division group at the gate.
Bai Xiuming stood beside a tall steed, preparing to mount.
Achan wove through the crowd and stopped behind him, asking softly, “Would it be convenient for my lord to escort this young lady home?”
The surrounding guards looked at her with odd expressions. Many women in the capital had shown interest in their lord, but none so boldly.
“Not convenient.” Bai Xiuming stepped into the stirrup, mounting the horse with swift grace, his refusal blunt.
“But it’s past curfew. Your men brought me here, will you leave me to fend for myself?” Achan looked up at him, her bright eyes glistening in the dim night.
Bai Xiuming couldn’t help but think she looked ready to cry at any moment.
Her pitiful appearance prompted Jiang Kai to speak up. “My lord, shall I escort her home first?”
He had brought her here, so it seemed reasonable to see her back, especially since a dragon-blood horse would make the trip quick.
Bai Xiuming’s cold gaze silenced Jiang Kai instantly.
Achan lowered her head in disappointment. “If it’s truly inconvenient, I’ll walk home myself.”
She turned slowly, and a soft plop sounded as a tear hit the ground.
Bai Xiuming’s grip on the reins tightened, then relaxed. He ordered Jiang Kai, “Take the others and go.”
“Yes, sir.”
Though curious, no one dared linger to watch the Commander’s spectacle. They quickly organized and left.
Bai Xiuming dismounted and asked Achan, who had claimed she’d leave but hadn’t moved an inch, “Can you ride?”
Achan turned instantly. “I’ve learned, but I don’t dare gallop.”
“Get on.”
Achan approached, but the dragon-blood horse was so tall she struggled to climb up, even after several attempts. The horse snorted, as if mocking her.
Seeing her half-draped over the horse, still stubbornly trying, Bai Xiuming finally took pity and placed a hand on her waist, pushing her onto the saddle.
Once Achan was seated, Bai Xiuming didn’t ride with her, instead leading the horse by the reins.
The horse’s hooves clopped rhythmically, moving swiftly, yet Bai Xiuming walked with the ease of a leisurely stroll.
Outside the Zhao residence, the streets were empty, with only the occasional lantern casting light. Beyond the hoofbeats, there was only the sound of the wind.
After a long stretch, Achan ventured, “My lord?”
“What is it?”
“If what the Zhao siblings said tonight is true, what punishment will they face?”
“Using a supernatural entity to harm someone, Zhao Wensheng faces at least five years.”
“And Zhao Wenyue? Isn’t her crime similar?”
“Her punishment depends on catching the stall vendor. If she was manipulated, her sentence will be much lighter.”
“What if the vendor isn’t found?” Achan paused, then added, “If the hairpin isn’t found either, will she face no punishment?”
If the Mirror Division found no evidence, Zhao Wenyue could retract her confession. She might not realize it, but Zhao Ming certainly would.
“It’s possible.”
Achan suddenly understood Zhao Ming’s differing attitude. Zhao Wensheng would serve five years, effectively ruining him as he was the Zhao family’s discarded piece.
But Zhao Wenyue still had value, hence Zhao Ming’s stance.
“I thought Uncle would resent both his children for Aunt’s death, but it seems different from what I expected. He’s not at all like the man Aunt described,” Achan said softly.
To weigh his children’s worth even now made her wonder if the devoted husband Lady Xiao Lin spoke of was real or a fabricated lie.
Bai Xiuming’s lips curved. “You see more clearly than your aunt did.”
His words confirmed Achan’s suspicions, Zhao Ming’s affection for Lady Xiao Lin wasn’t as genuine as it appeared.
“Perhaps I’ve seen too many heartless people to believe in truly devoted men anymore,” Achan said, her tone laced with mockery.
Whether Lady Xiao Lin was fortunate or unfortunate, at least the lie remained intact until her final moment.
Bai Xiuming turned. “Have you been deceived?”
Achan’s heart skipped, but she forced a smile. “My lord jests. I was only thinking of… Marquis Jinyang. Before my mother’s death, wasn’t he just as devoted as Uncle?”
Just when she thought he’d say more, Bai Xiuming spoke. “We’re here.”
They had reached Changping Lane, though without lantern light, Achan nearly missed her own door.
Clutching the reins tightly, she slid down from the horse, steadying herself before bowing to Bai Xiuming. “Thank you for escorting me home tonight, my lord.”
Bai Xiuming gave a perfunctory grunt and mounted the horse.
As he turned to leave, Achan’s voice rang out. “Tonight is our third meeting, my lord.”
Bai Xiuming had a feeling he knew what was coming, surprised by his own patience to hear her out.
“I still can’t know your name?” she asked, looking up at him eagerly.
“My name’s no secret. Ask around.”
“But I want to hear it from you, my lord.”
“You’ve got plenty of requests.”
Achan blinked, gazing up at him persistently. In the dark, she could only make out his silhouette, but her every subtle expression was clear in Bai Xiuming’s eyes.
When no answer came, her lips turned down, pouting slightly.
“…Bai Xiuming.”
The sound of hooves nearly drowned out his voice as he rode off.
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