Chapter 028: The Uninvited Guests

Yet regardless of others’ gazes or thoughts, this mother and son still came.

This was the first time the two of them had attended such a banquet—though no one had invited them, they came uninvited.

Concubine Fang pushed the wheelchair in her hands with some effort, a faint smile gracing her elegant face as she comforted her son in the wheelchair: “Wenshan, don’t worry, we’re almost there.”

The garden paths were mostly gravel, with complex terrain and slopes up and down. Young ladies wearing pearl shoes could manage well enough, but those in platform shoes had to be careful not to twist an ankle or stumble, let alone navigating a wheelchair.

The hard wooden wheels of the wheelchair jolted unavoidably as they were pushed forcefully across the garden ground. Seated in the wheelchair, Zhou Wenshan gripped the armrests tightly with both hands, turning his head to offer his mother behind him a gentle smile.

For the first time in days, he spoke softly to comfort Concubine Fang, saying: “Mother, your son is not in a hurry, so please don’t rush either.”

As he spoke, Zhou Wenshan turned his head back, casting an appreciative gaze upon the lively crowd.

Amidst the fluttering sleeves adding fragrance and the dazzling feast, wisps of clouds adorned cicada-wing hair, delicate blossoms hosted powder butterflies, and amidst the laughter and chatter of the crowd, Zhou Yuanting sat at its center.

Zhou Yuanting looked exceptionally imposing today. He wore a scholar’s robe made of snow-white silk. The people of Dachen favored white, and scholars often donned snow-colored long robes, appearing elegant yet far from simple. The garment was subtly embroidered along its patterns with snow-white moonlight mermaid silk, appearing at first glance like the fabric’s own threads. But under the sunlight, the silk shimmered brilliantly, like glaciers reflecting snowy peaks—a majestic, lofty, and noble bearing.

Appearance often carries one’s presence. Even those with malicious hearts, if they look the part while seated high on a platform, can inspire unwarranted admiration.

Today, Zhou Yuanting basked in such admiration.

Countless eyes gazed upon him with envy, lifting him up. He stood at the very heart of the crowd, close beside the Crown Prince, as if poised to soar into the clouds at any moment.

Zhou Wenshan watched Zhou Yuanting through the crowd and blossoms, thinking, no one knew this banquet should have been his.

After a long while, Zhou Wenshan’s shadowy gaze swept past Zhou Yuanting’s face to the others in the garden.

The garden was filled with people. Some of the young masters drinking and playing pitch-pot were even familiar to him. Not long ago, it was this very group who had invited him out for horseback riding and hunting, and it was also this group who had surrounded him with mocking sneers after he fell from his horse.

Zhou Wenshan’s eyes rested on them, a faint smile appearing on his refined face. The longer he looked, the more the corners of his lips curved upward.

How wonderful, they were still standing vibrantly, still jumping and playing freely. How wonderful.

A trace of resentment flowed from Zhou Wenshan’s ruifeng eyes, much like his father’s, dark and coiling around his ailing body, making him grow increasingly gaunt, appearing as if he were on the verge of death. Yet, strangely, after looking at this crowd, he seemed to think of something and actually smiled again.

That smile curved the eyes filled with hatred, appearing as laughter, yet the depths of those eyes were tainted with intense loathing. For a moment, the smiling face turned utterly grotesque, and the person suddenly seemed less than human—like a centipede coiled upon the wheelchair, writhing with countless limbs, eager to crawl onto them, sink its teeth into their necks, devour their eyeballs, tear out their hearts, and revel wantonly within their chests and bellies.

Yet these chaotic, bloody thoughts were trapped within this crippled body. He couldn’t even walk over; he could only be pushed, step by step, closer.

But it wasn’t far now.

Zhou Wenshan’s hand unconsciously stroked the hard surface of the wheelchair beneath him, thinking: How beautiful it would be if they all died before him, their blood flowing into a small stream.

Meanwhile, Concubine Fang had already pushed him into the very center of the banquet. The wheelchair passed through a glittering crowd of jewels and silks, drawing many astonished glances from the Madams.

How could someone arrive in a wheelchair?

Some well-informed Madams leaned close to one another, using round fans to conceal their whispers as they quietly discussed the latest gossip from the Houfu.

In Chang’an, noble families intermarried, with sons and daughters from concubines marrying into each other’s households. My daughter marries into your family, your sister marries into another’s—each household has its own children, making it inevitable for news to circulate, passing from your house to another’s. No family could keep secrets; no matter how tightly guarded an affair, once it occurred, some whispers were bound to emerge. Moreover, some time ago, Concubine Fang and this Zhou Wenshan had been particularly conspicuous, so naturally, some recognized them.

“I heard this is the Marquis’s outside concubine—kept hidden for over a decade. When the Marquis fell gravely ill, nearly on his deathbed, he finally revealed he had an outside concubine and a child, later brought into the mansion.”

“But why is he a cripple?”

“They say he went out horseback riding and was crippled in a fall. Tsk, to end up like this not long after entering the mansion—truly unfortunate.”

The group chattered quietly, occasionally casting tentative glances their way, scrutinizing the mother and son from head to toe.

Concubine Fang had long known they would attract attention, but they no longer cared. In fact, she even straightened her back, facing the crowd’s scrutiny head-on.

She used to think these people were nobles, important figures, fearing any misstep might invite ridicule for being an “outside concubine who didn’t understand propriety.” But after experiencing such dramatic ups and downs, and even resolving to seek revenge, she suddenly stopped caring.

They were all human. Even if born into different circumstances, one thing remained unchanged—all were mere flesh and blood. In the face of death, they were all the same.

The smile on Concubine Fang’s face grew even gentler.

The pent-up resentment in her chest churned like a pot of boiling oil, and soon, she could splash that scalding oil onto their faces!

All who had harmed her and her son would pay the price!

And for this impromptu yet all-out act of revenge, she was willing to do anything.

Earlier, when the mother and son were making their way here, the maids and servants along the path asked where they were going. They both said they were just out for a stroll to clear their minds. The maids didn’t think much of it—who could have imagined that this pair, who had been weeping and attempting suicide daily just moments before, would now appear so radiant and well-dressed to attend a banquet?

So when their wheelchair rolled into the banquet hall, not only were the guests stunned, but even the hosts were momentarily speechless.

What were a concubine and an outside son doing here? And arriving in a wheelchair, no less—were they deliberately here to make a spectacle of themselves?

When the hosts entertained guests, even the maids serving them had to carefully tidy themselves up to avoid embarrassment. Concubines of lower status were not allowed to leave their quarters at all; encountering guests was considered an offense. Even favored concubines, when brought out, had to stand and toast table by table. While illegitimate sons were permitted to attend banquets, they were expected to be presentable ones. Someone like Zhou Wenshan—wasn’t his presence an open invitation for ridicule?

At that moment, Zhongyi Marquis was in the midst of conversation with the surrounding guests, speaking animatedly. When he glanced up and caught sight of Concubine Fang, he was taken aback.

It had only been a few days, but Zhongyi Marquis had already completely forgotten about Concubine Fang. He was never a man of unwavering loyalty to begin with; previously, he had merely been suppressed by Qin Chanyue, too afraid to reveal his true nature. Once Qin Chanyue stopped restraining him, he began seeking out others, and any affection or fondness he once held for Concubine Fang had long since faded from his memory.

So when he saw Concubine Fang, dressed neatly and pushing Zhou Wenshan in a wheelchair, a surge of anger rushed to his head.

With guests all around, Zhou Ziheng couldn’t afford to lose his temper. Instead, he quickly shot a stern glance at Zhou Yuanting nearby—what were all the maids and servants in the courtyard doing? How could they have let these two out! If they started saying things like “cripple” or “victimized” in front of everyone, wouldn’t it become a laughingstock?

Zhou Yuanting had been attending to the Crown Prince nearby. When he caught his father’s glance and followed it to the mother and son pair, a cold sweat instantly broke out on his back. He hastily excused himself from the Crown Prince, stood up, and walked toward them.

Today, the mother and son were dressed respectably, with nothing overstepping their station. Their demeanor appeared proper, without any signs of causing trouble or acting out. Standing there quietly and neatly, though their arrival was abrupt and unconventional, it still allowed Zhou Yuanting to breathe a sigh of relief.

A dignified resolution was far better than becoming a spectacle.

Seeing Zhou Yuanting approach, both mother and son broke into warm, radiant smiles.

They seemed particularly eager to see Zhou Yuanting.

Their smiles, however, made Zhou Yuanting feel somewhat uneasy.

A forced smile appeared on his refined and serene face, his eyes betraying a poorly concealed wariness. He tentatively asked, “With the banquet today, the household has been quite busy, so I haven’t had the chance to visit Concubine Fang’s courtyard. May I ask why Concubine Fang has brought Third Brother here—”

“Your Third Brother has been unwell these past few days. Today, he happened to have a bit of energy, so I brought him out for a stroll. We happened to wander into the banquet and thought we’d take a look.”

Concubine Fang was wearing a light cyan cross-collared long skirt. She had always been slender and delicate, but these past few days of tending to her son had added a sickly, fragile air to her appearance. Her complexion was as pale as fine, delicate porcelain, as if it might shatter at any moment.

But Zhou Yuanting did not believe her act. People, after all, are merely two hundred and six bones stripped of their clothes, yet when adorned in finery, they can wear a hundred thousand faces. One must not judge by appearances alone, he thought. Concubine Fang’s visit today was surely ill-intentioned—she deliberately intended to bring her son to the banquet to make a spectacle of themselves.

Suppressing the irritation in his heart, Zhou Yuanting cursed inwardly. After today, he must confine this mother and son to their quarters and never let them out again.

He took a slow breath, about to say something conciliatory, when Zhou Wenshan, seated in the wheelchair, spoke in a gentle tone: “Elder Brother, I just saw a few friends over there. It has been so long since I last met old acquaintances during my illness. I wonder if you could push me over to exchange a few words with them?”

As he spoke, a flicker of envy passed through Zhou Wenshan’s eyes, and he looked at Zhou Yuanting with hopeful anticipation—as if he longed to return to his friends’ side but, having lost the right to do so, could only plead with his former rival for mercy.

A defeated general was begging for his pity.

Seeing this, Zhou Yuanting felt a surge of exhilaration in his chest, an indescribable thrill rising within him that left his entire body tingling. How satisfying it was to wield power over another’s fate!

He could hardly resist this feeling. For a moment, he felt as if he held great authority, with everything under his control, so much so that he seemed to float lightly. Thus, almost without thinking, he agreed without hesitation: “Very well, I’ll push you over to take a look.”

What did he have to fear?

Although this mother and son had some petty tricks up their sleeves, they were no match for him. Even before he became the Shizi, he could have crushed Zhou Wenshan with a single finger. Now that he was the Shizi and had even gained the Crown Prince’s favor, destined to pass the imperial examinations and rise swiftly in rank, what could these two possibly do to him?

They were as lowly as ants, as insignificant as dust, like a mantis trying to stop a chariot before him.

If they wished to live well, there was only one path—to please him!

This mother and son would never stir up trouble again in the future. As for him, the Shiziye of the Houfu, he had grand ambitions yet to unfold.

And being such a magnanimous man, when the day came for him to ascend to high office, he would naturally grant this mother and son a good path forward, leaving them a life of wealth and comfort—let them lie back and enjoy their blessings!

With such thoughts in mind, Zhou Yuanting, feeling refreshed and clear-headed, took the wheelchair from Concubine Fang’s hands.

Concubine Fang was as docile as a toothless lamb. As soon as Zhou Yuanting reached out, she took half a step back and obediently stood to the side.

Thus, Zhou Yuanting took over pushing the wheelchair from Concubine Fang.

—

As Zhou Yuanting wheeled Zhou Wenshan away, Concubine Fang stood beneath a flowering tree, watching them quietly. Her gaze followed closely, like a spider’s silk entangling its prey—unyielding and impossible to break.

Meanwhile, not far away, Qin Chanyue was pulling Liu Yandai along to toast at the tables. The guests at this table were on good terms with Qin Chanyue, so she simply pulled Liu Yandai to sit down. The two of them settled at the table, eating and drinking together—Qin Chanyue drinking, Liu Yandai eating, each mother-in-law and daughter-in-law occupied with their own tasks.

The banquet was crowded, with many tables. Toasting table by table, whenever they encountered familiar faces, they would sit down and exchange a few words. Occasionally, when interesting topics arose, the conversation could go on endlessly, which was why the toasts on the women’s side were still not finished.

But Qin Chanyue had not overlooked the movements on the men’s side either.

When Concubine Fang pushed Zhou Wenshan over, Qin Chanyue spotted them at a glance.

The moment she saw these two arrive, her attention was inevitably split, and even her breathing slowed—she had spent a long time setting the stage for today’s show, and she truly hoped these two would put on a good performance.

Because of Qin Chanyue’s momentary distraction, those at her table assumed she was angered by the concubine’s uninvited presence and quietly comforted her, saying, “We’re still at the banquet, just bear with it for now. Which family’s concubine doesn’t harbor some rebellious thoughts? The Zhongyi Marquis has momentarily lost his way, but he’ll come around eventually. Men, after all, don’t keep their hearts tied to just one person forever.”

Qin Chanyue withdrew her gaze and smiled at the guests at the table, saying, “It’s fine, I’ve already come to terms with it. As long as my son is still here, nothing else matters.”

The Madams at the table nodded in agreement, chiming in one after another, “Exactly, men can’t be relied on. Your two sons are both good, and you’ll surely have good days to enjoy in the future.”

They were unaware of the recent turmoil tearing the Houfu apart and still believed Qin Chanyue and her two sons were on good terms, sharing a loving mother-son relationship.

At the time, Liu Yandai was busy stuffing herself with pastries nearby. Just as she popped a soft, fluffy pastry into her mouth, she overheard these remarks. With her cheeks puffed out, she blinked thoughtfully for a moment before lowering her head to continue eating.

Oh well, might as well pretend she didn’t hear it.

—

Meanwhile, Zhou Yuanting was pushing Zhou Wenshan in his wheelchair toward the area where a group of young noblemen had gathered for entertainment.

It was a grassy patch in the garden, deliberately left open with a stone table set up. The guests were now seated there, playing the pitch-pot game.

Pitch-pot is a throwing game where a narrow-mouthed, wide-bellied bronze vessel is placed on the ground. Participants stand ten paces away and toss projectiles, aiming to land them inside the vessel. Successfully getting a projectile into the vessel counts as a hit.

Typically, the game involves comparing the number of hits, with bets placed on personal items like jade ornaments or fans, all just for fun.

As Zhou Yuanting pushed the wheelchair over, the group of young noblemen were tossing Throwing Arrows while laughing and discussing the young ladies of the estate.

“Lady Wan’s legitimate daughter is quite good—Wu Wanqing, the eldest Young Lady Wu. She has a pleasant temperament, good looks, and a fine background.”

“Shh—didn’t you see earlier how eagerly the eldest Young Lady Wu was fawning over the Crown Prince? No matter how pretty she is, it’s best not to get involved.”

“When marrying a wife, virtue is what matters. Looks and appearance aren’t important—what’s essential is that she can manage household affairs, tolerate concubines, and care for the children born to them. If you like pretty ones, aren’t they everywhere outside? The other day, I found a charming-looking concubine among the common folk and kept her in an outer courtyard. If you’re interested, go and have a go. We’re good brothers, after all—let’s share the good fortune.”

“Hahaha—” someone laughed, “Then I’ll gladly accept. Later, brother, ask your concubine who’s better—you or me?”

The young noblemen burst into raucous laughter. To outsiders, it might have seemed they were simply enjoying the game to the fullest.

Having long been immersed in the circles of high society, these men knew how to maintain propriety and decorum among their peers, yet they utterly lacked virtue toward those beneath them. To them, the sons born to outside concubines were not even human—they could conspire to cripple such a son to secure the position of Shizi (Heir Apparent) for a close friend. Women of lower status were likewise dehumanized, seen merely as vessels to be used at will. Of course, if they encountered a woman from a powerful family who was capable of firmly subduing them, they would promptly put on a mask of gentleness and propriety. Outsiders would then praise them for having matured after marriage, no longer engaging in reckless behavior. After all, for a man—it was never too late for a prodigal son to return.

Amidst this burst of raucous laughter, the rumbling sound of wooden wheels rolling over a gravel path approached. When the young noblemen occasionally glanced over, their laughter caught in their throats as if something were stuck.

The other young men turned around in confusion to look, and they too found themselves unable to laugh.

As the laughter faded completely, the crowd exchanged bewildered glances, staring wide-eyed as Zhou Yuanting pushed a wheelchair forward—seated in it was none other than Zhou Wenshan.

Not long ago, they had lured this man to the horse-racing grounds for a hunting chase on horseback. After he fell from his horse, they deliberately delayed for a while, missing the critical treatment window and causing severe injury to his back. It was said to be beyond cure—even imperial physicians from the palace had been summoned, but nothing could be done to heal him.

And this man was someone they had personally harmed. According to their usual way of handling things, Zhou Wenshan should have been disposed of—along with Concubine Fang. Only with them dead could they feel at ease.

They did not understand why Zhou Yuanting had brought this man here, and they all looked at Zhou Yuanting with suspicious eyes.

Standing behind the wheelchair, Zhou Yuanting wore a faint smile on his refined and elegant face. He lifted his sleeve, and a well-maintained hand gently rested on Zhou Wenshan’s shoulder as he said with a smile, “My third brother has been recuperating these past days and was feeling bored cooped up at home. Since the banquet is lively, I brought him along to watch and join everyone in playing the pitch-pot game.”

After all, the pitch-pot game did not require much physical movement, so Zhou Wenshan could still participate.

The brothers nearby, seeing Zhou Yuanting now playing the part of “brotherly affection,” found it somewhat amusing. If it were his own legitimate younger brother, Zhou Chiye, standing here, then putting on an act would make sense—after all, Zhou Chiye carried that weight. But now, sitting in the wheelchair was merely an outside son—why bother putting in the effort for him?

However, since Zhou Yuanting had already brought him, the others were unwilling to embarrass Zhou Yuanting and went along with his words, saying, “Very well, let the Third Young Master Zhou also try the pitch-pot game.”

As they spoke, someone handed Zhou Wenshan a Throwing Arrow.

The Throwing Arrow was made entirely of wood, with a heavy iron tip—front-heavy and rear-light, making it easy to throw.

The young man in the wheelchair had grown noticeably thinner these days, his cheeks slightly sunken, yet his expression remained calm. Seated in the wheelchair, his gentle eyes held a faint smile. Dressed in a light gray round-collared robe that wrapped around his slender frame, he appeared dignified and proper. Embroidered on his chest was a pattern in dark blue, and his hair was tied up with a hair ribbon of the same hue. At first glance, his demeanor was pleasing—though not as dazzling as Zhou Yuanting, he possessed a unique grace of his own.

Like a pine tree in the mountains, quietly growing.

The young noblemen around him all felt that he was vastly different from before.

Previously, when they saw Zhou Wenshan, he was merely a newly arrived outside son, ignorant and arrogant, relying on the favor of Zhongyi Marquis to act recklessly. His words were laughable, such as claiming he could become the Shizi—as if becoming the Shizi were so easy! Did he think the Juewei was like the Houfu’s treasury, something Zhongyi Marquis could give to anyone he pleased? Had he consulted the Qin family, Zhennan Wang, or even the Emperor?

Thus, they looked down on Zhou Wenshan, this ignorant and foolish person who, despite relying on a bit of Zhongyi Marquis’s partiality to stand on the same level as them, was at his core still an arrogant and clueless waste.

But now, the young man sitting in the wheelchair playing the pitch-pot game had gentle features. His frail condition even lent him an air of elegance and nobility, like a refined orchid or jade tree—shining without being glaring, as calm and deep as still waters.

The several young masters nearby exchanged glances.

They had all assumed that after the incident that left him disabled, Zhou Wenshan would be utterly defeated. Yet, they never expected him to adjust so quickly. In just a few days, he appeared before them sitting calmly in his wheelchair, his demeanor so composed that it struck them as rather peculiar.

At that moment, Zhou Wenshan, seated in his wheelchair, successfully landed a Throwing Arrow.

The metal arrowhead of the Throwing Arrow struck the bronze narrow-mouthed pot, producing a heavy, muffled metallic clang. Suddenly, Zhou Wenshan, sitting in the wheelchair, began to laugh. His eyes curved into crescents as he turned the handle on his wheelchair, adjusting its direction and height—this wheelchair was crafted by a master craftsman, exquisitely designed.

After adjusting the direction to face all the young masters, he smiled and asked, “Gentlemen, did the sound of the arrow entering the pot just now sound familiar to you?”

The young masters all looked at him suspiciously.

Zhou Yuanting then spoke up, “Third Brother, what do you mean by ‘familiar’?”

Zhou Wenshan laughed again.

His auspicious phoenix eyes, identical to Zhou Yuanting’s, held a hint of mockery as he slowly drawled, “The sound of my bones shattering when I fell from the horse that day was exactly like this sound. Elder Brother, you didn’t hear it, but all the gentlemen present did, didn’t they?”

The young masters were taken aback, then immediately retorted, “What nonsense are you talking about, Third Young Master Zhou? Have you drunk yourself into a stupor? Your fall from the horse was your own doing—what does it have to do with us?”

They absolutely could not admit to this!

As they spoke, the group glanced at Zhou Yuanting, their eyes filled with accusation.

Look at you, you can’t even handle your own younger brother properly!

Zhou Yuanting’s heart sank.

He had just thought that his third brother had finally become obedient, learned his lesson, and understood not to oppose him. Yet, in just a moment, he had changed his tune again. Taking a deep breath, Zhou Yuanting coldly reprimanded, “Enough. I’ll have someone escort you back now. From now on, you are confined to your courtyard and need not come out again.”

A fool who refuses a toast only to drink a forfeit!

The smile on Zhou Wenshan’s face slowly faded, replaced by a look of confusion and bewilderment. He seemed unable to understand why his elder brother didn’t remember—after all, it was clearly them who did it.

But it didn’t matter.

Zhou Wenshan slowly uttered an “Oh,” then said, “Elder Brother may not remember, but I can help him recall.”

With that, Zhou Wenshan suddenly pressed a mechanism on the side of his wheelchair.

The wheelchair, already adjusted to face the crowd, suddenly revealed two rows of crossbows from beneath the armrest panels as the mechanism was activated. Caught off guard, everyone watched as the panels retracted.

These two rows of crossbows were nothing like the Throwing Arrows used in the pitch-pot game. The Throwing Arrows were polished smooth and harmless, but these crossbow bolts had sharp arrowheads that gleamed with a chilling cold light under the scorching summer sun, aimed directly at the crowd.

When Zhou Yuanting saw this, he was momentarily stunned.

He couldn’t fathom the idea of installing hidden weapons in a wheelchair, nor could he understand why Zhou Wenshan would point such things at him—ordinary people without martial arts training lacked the alertness to react instantly to danger. Even if the thought of “escape” crossed their minds, their legs would refuse to move.

Moreover, Zhou Wenshan gave them no chance to dodge.

As he forcefully pressed the mechanism in his hand, sending sharp arrows flying and piercing the bodies of everyone before him, Zhou Wenshan let out a triumphant roar!

The cries of pain and screams from the crowd mingled together, further mixed with Zhou Wenshan’s roars, instantly drawing countless gazes. But Zhou Wenshan didn’t care in the slightest. Holding his head high, his eyes bloodshot, he shouted madly, “Die, die, all of you die!”

Come die with me, die with me!

He had prepared for this day for far too long!

That day, his mother returned from the Small Kitchen, threw herself before his bed, cupped his face in her hands, and with bloodshot eyes and a serious expression, said to him, “My son, I know you’re in pain, I know you want to die. I won’t stop you, but you can’t go alone. Shouldn’t those who harmed you also die?”

Zhou Wenshan thought dazedly, yes, shouldn’t those who harmed him also die?

He could die, but he couldn’t die silently. At the very least… he had to take two people with him.

Perfect, just perfect.

At this time, Qin Chanyue was about to host a banquet.

The mother and son were overjoyed and began planning meticulously for this day. They sought someone to make a wheelchair, so busy they didn’t leave the house for several days. Others who saw this didn’t pay much attention—they still remembered how Concubine Fang had acted like a madwoman, digging up soil everywhere to eat. She seemed deranged, almost insane. When reported, Lady Qin paid no mind, and the Marquis avoided her entirely. So, the servants learned to be smart; now, whatever Concubine Fang did, they pretended not to see.

Initially, Concubine Fang hadn’t planned to use a crossbow. Such things were prohibited for sale in Dachen. The crossbow bolts the young masters used for hunting were all produced by their own families; they couldn’t be bought outside. She thought poisoning would be simpler. But while out buying medicine, she happened to meet a mechanist who could make wheelchairs. This mechanist eagerly recommended himself, even claiming he could make a wheelchair with hidden weapons. He could also provide his own crossbow, capable of taking lives within a hundred paces. Tempted, Concubine Fang actually had him make a wheelchair.

Unexpectedly, this wheelchair proved as useful as a divine weapon!

When everything unfolded in the garden, Concubine Fang stood quietly beneath a tree, watching.

She saw her son personally exact revenge for himself. She saw Qin Chanyue’s son, Zhou Yuanting, struck by crossbow bolts in the chest, thigh, and abdomen, clutching his chest as he fell with difficulty. She saw her own son roar at the sky, feeling nothing but sheer satisfaction in her heart.

How wonderful.

Concubine Fang gazed lovingly at her son, shedding a single tear of emotion.

Now she, too, could die without regrets.

——

When screams echoed from the garden, Qin Chanyue set down her wine cup.

She had already guessed what had happened, so she wasn’t panicked. Calmly, she said to the guests beside her, “I’ll go see what’s happened. Please continue eating and drinking.”

The Madams at the table naturally nodded.

As Qin Chanyue stood up, Liu Yandai hurriedly rose to follow—she had been too focused on eating earlier, forgetting her manners. Her mouth was stuffed with several small pastries, her cheeks puffed up high like a little hamster. For a moment, she couldn’t chew fast enough and had to cover her mouth with her palm, quickly shuffling her legs to keep up with her Pomu.

And Qin Chanyue clearly had no time to look back at Liu Yandai now. She walked faster and faster.

Ahead, the crowd grew denser. No one spoke, all silently and shockingly watching. Just a glance at their backs revealed their stunned and shaken state.

Something major had definitely occurred.

The plan appeared to have succeeded, and she needed to keep pushing forward. In a moment, she would have to gather her energy and put on a good show in front of everyone.

After glancing from afar at the place where the commotion had occurred, Qin Chanyue turned to Liu Yandai and instructed, “There’s been a bit of trouble at the banquet. Don’t be afraid—it’s just a minor incident. Once we get through this, good days await us both. In a moment, do exactly as I do. If I cry, you cry. If I faint, you say I’ve had a heart palpitation and take me to Qiufeng Hall for treatment. If anyone asks you anything, just say you don’t know. Do you understand?”

Liu Yandai didn’t fully grasp what had happened, but she nodded repeatedly.

Whatever Pomu does, Yandai will do too. Yandai understands!

At that moment, as they were making their way through the surrounding crowd, Qin Chanyue looked up and saw the scene before her.

The area was an open space, with pitch-pot game equipment set up nearby and a stone table with wine and pastries. Just moments ago, a group had been playing here, but suddenly, it had turned into a living hell.

Zhou Wenshan sat in his wheelchair, laughing maniacally like a madman. Before him, seven or eight young masters lay on the ground, struck by crossbow bolts. At the forefront, with the most arrows lodged in him, was Zhou Yuanting.

Within a hundred paces, unless one was an exceptionally alert martial artist, ordinary people simply couldn’t dodge crossbow bolts. Moreover, although crossbow bolts pierced the body, the wounds were small and bled little, so death wouldn’t come quickly—only excruciating pain.

The ground was littered with people writhing and howling in agony. Their screams and cries mingled with Zhou Wenshan’s laughter, creating a particularly horrifying scene.

The Madams and Young Ladies in the courtyard were terrified, and some of the young masters trembled uncontrollably—they had almost come to play the pitch-pot game earlier!

As Qin Chanyue made her way through the crowd and caught sight of her son, she gasped sharply, her face flooding with sorrow. She cried out in shock, “Yuanting, my son—”

In full view of everyone, Qin Chanyue rushed forward, weeping and wailing.

Liu Yandai followed closely behind, opening her mouth to cry out, “Yuanting, my husband—” But the pastry in her mouth stuck to her teeth, and the words wouldn’t come out. She could only mumble, “Mmm, mmm, mmm.”

Oh no! Stupid mouth! Chew faster!