Chapter 032: The Death of Zhou Ziheng
“Last night, the Marquis was perfectly fine over at Chixia Garden. But this morning, for some unknown reason, he suddenly collapsed and was rushed to Qiufeng Hall. We still don’t know what illness he’s suffering from.”
The Little Maid urgently recounted everything that had happened in the courtyard, yet she heard no response from the bed. Anxiously looking up, she saw Madam resting her head on her arm, listening with an indifferent expression.
It was around mid-morning, and the weather outside was splendid. Bright sunlight filtered through the window, casting flower-shaped patterns that danced across Madam’s face. Amidst the shimmering light and shifting shadows, the radiant Madam on the bed seemed to gain an ethereal, otherworldly grace.
She resembled a moon goddess lazily sleeping among the clouds, her feet untouched by earthly dust, merely descending to the mortal realm to savor its fleeting pleasures.
“Madam?” The Little Maid, seeing no reaction from Madam, called out nervously.
Whenever the Marquis fell seriously ill in the past, Madam would personally attend to him day and night without rest. But today, Madam seemed to wear an expression of—cold weariness?
Her captivating fox-like eyes gazed calmly at her own hands, as if watching the dancing beams of light falling upon her wrists, or perhaps looking through the light to reflect upon her own past. In any case, she seemed lost in thought, showing no trace of worry.
With her mistress silent, the maid dared not rise, remaining quietly on her knees.
After a moment, Qin Chanyue said softly, “Help me up.”
The maid promptly stood and assisted Qin Chanyue to her feet.
Only after Qin Chanyue rose did Shangyue Garden truly come to life. Maids bustled about, bringing water and tea, and selecting attire for Qin Chanyue.
Today, Qin Chanyue wore a deep blue Soft Mist Gauze straight-collar robe with wide sleeves, paired with a snowy silk white long skirt. The skirt was embroidered with an entire branch of blue Hydrangea using fine silk threads. As the hem swayed, the Hydrangea seemed to flutter in the breeze.
A skilled hairdressing maid styled Qin Chanyue’s hair into a Flying Immortal Flowing Cloud Chignon, adorned with a freshly bloomed Hydrangea that matched the embroidery on her skirt. The ensemble exuded elegance and nobility, breathtakingly beautiful.
Once everything was in order, Qin Chanyue rose from the mirror and, supported by her maid, gracefully boarded the Sedan Chair waiting outside Shangyue Garden. The Sedan Chair carried her all the way to Qiufeng Hall.
The Sedan Chair was always kept on standby, but Qin Chanyue, being of military background with strong bones and physique, was unlike those delicate young ladies and rarely used it. It was only after exhausting herself yesterday that she resorted to the Sedan Chair.
The Sedan Chair carried her from Shangyue Garden to Qiufeng Hall, arriving close to noon.
The glaring sunlight overhead shone brightly as Qin Chanyue, supported by her maid, descended from the Sedan Chair and entered Qiufeng Hall.
During this period, Qiufeng Hall had welcomed quite a few visitors, and even the birds in the trees had multiplied, perching on branches to observe the commotion.
No sooner had Qin Chanyue stepped into the side chamber than she heard the sound of sobbing.
Entering through the door, she saw Zhongyi Marquis Zhou Ziheng lying on the bed, with Aunt Xia kneeling before it, weeping.
Zhou Ziheng was unconscious, his face ashen. Aunt Xia’s facial injuries and swelling appeared to have been treated with high-quality medicine, as yesterday’s swelling had subsided, leaving only faint marks that were barely noticeable. Now, kneeling on the ground, she wept bitterly, her eyes red and swollen from crying.
Beside the two of them stood a doctor, who was trying to console Aunt Xia: “Concubine, don’t cry yourself sick. The Marquis’s illness came on so suddenly, no one could have expected it.”
Aunt Xia was weeping when she heard footsteps. Turning around and seeing Qin Chanyue, she trembled all over in fright and hurriedly kowtowed, saying, “This humble concubine greets Madam.”
She was terrified to death.
Not because she feared the Marquis might die, but because she was afraid others would blame her for his severe illness—because yesterday, yesterday—
After returning to her courtyard yesterday, she had wept bitterly for a long time, feeling utterly humiliated and wishing she could just dash her head against a wall and die.
What did Concubine Fang’s injury to her son have to do with her? Why did she have to suffer such humiliation? The Marquis had wronged Concubine Fang, but she herself had done nothing to harm Concubine Fang. Everyone in the entire Houfu had taken advantage of Concubine Fang’s misfortune, yet she alone had remained aloof, never once stepping on Concubine Fang. And still, Concubine Fang refused to let her off.
Even if Concubine Fang wouldn’t spare her, why hadn’t the Marquis protected her, allowing Concubine Fang to bully her instead?
Whenever she thought about being slapped in front of everyone, her head spun with rage, and she hated the Marquis to the core.
How had she failed to see before that the Marquis was such a man?
But… even if she had known what kind of man he was, she had no way to turn her fate around. She had already followed him; even if it was a poor choice, she could only grit her teeth and continue. Most women in this world were like this—once married, their lives were tied to their husbands’ belts. They had to kneel, beg, and flatter, all just to make their own lives a little easier.
When the Marquis came to her, though she harbored resentment, she dared not show it. Instead, she coaxed him into giving her many rewards and begged him to let her have a child.
Concubines were generally not allowed to bear children. After each time she served him in bed, she had to take medicine, leaving her feeling unsettled and insecure. She wanted a child—it didn’t matter if it was a boy or a girl, just one would be enough.
The Marquis pitied her and relented, allowing her to have a child.
Overjoyed, she secretly added a little aphrodisiac to the Marquis’s food, hoping to conceive at once—the Marquis was already in his thirties, and his body was weak, nothing like those young men of seventeen or eighteen. He struggled with even a few movements, and what he produced was thin and watery, hardly seeming useful. It was only for the sake of conceiving that she resorted to such methods.
Last night, after the Marquis had finished, his body grew extremely weak, collapsing onto the bed and unable to get up. At the time, neither of them paid it much mind, assuming the Marquis was merely tired. Who could have guessed that the next morning, when the Marquis tried to rise, he would suddenly collapse headfirst!
This terrified Aunt Xia! Could it be that she had given him too much of that aphrodisiac yesterday, draining the Marquis’s vitality?
Trembling with fear, she came to Qiufeng Hall and knelt before the bed, unable to rise. When the doctor beside her asked what food she had given the Marquis, her heart quivered again and again, but she stubbornly refused to admit she had “secretly added an aphrodisiac.”
Holding onto a sliver of hope, she thought it might not be because of the aphrodisiac that the Marquis had fallen ill. If she didn’t say anything, no one would know. But if she spoke up and others found out, they would surely blame her for it.
She was like duckweed adrift, possessing nothing within the Houfu. Even on ordinary days when she made no mistakes, she was bound by its deep-seated rules, unable to catch her breath. If she took even one wrong step, she would surely be tightened by these rules and torn to pieces.
Thus, she refused to admit it and dared not admit it.
When Qin Chanyue entered, she was so frightened that she kowtowed repeatedly, fearing punishment from Qin Chanyue.
If even Concubine Fang could take half her life, how much more so Qin Chanyue?
As she kowtowed, she could glimpse the hem of Qin Chanyue’s skirt swaying as she approached.
No sooner had Qin Chanyue arrived than the Doctor addressed her, saying, “This old servant greets Madam.”
Qin Chanyue responded with a faint “Mm,” then asked, “How is the Marquis?”
The Doctor was Qin Chanyue’s confidant and had long been instructed by her. Without revealing anything, he replied, “In answer to Madam, the Marquis has pent-up frustration in his chest. It seems he became angry yesterday, caught the morning breeze early today, and suffered another headache, which caused him to faint.”
After a pause, the Doctor added, “He only needs someone to attend to him day and night with medicine.”
Aunt Xia, kneeling nearby, hurriedly said, “This maidservant is willing to serve the Marquis.”
She was eager to show her willingness, hoping Qin Chanyue would not punish her.
Qin Chanyue glanced indifferently at Aunt Xia.
The young girl was only around sixteen, as tender as a flower bud, with her schemes and panic written all over her face. One look was enough to understand what she was thinking.
Qin Chanyue did not actually despise Aunt Xia.
Zhou Ziheng had betrayed her, and from beginning to end, her hatred was directed solely at Zhou Ziheng. If Concubine Fang hadn’t insisted on jumping in front of her to cause trouble, she wouldn’t have targeted them so harshly. Although this Aunt Xia also had her issues, like Concubine Fang, as long as she didn’t bring about her own downfall, Qin Chanyue wouldn’t go out of her way to torment her.
“In that case, I’ll trouble Aunt Xia to serve him,” Qin Chanyue said, then turned and left.
Aunt Xia, kneeling on the ground, was stunned for a moment before hurriedly bowing to see her off. Only when Qin Chanyue had disappeared from sight did she raise her head in confusion and look around.
The Marquis had fallen seriously ill in her courtyard, nearly dying—how… how could Madam not be angry at all?
She didn’t understand what was happening but still attended to the Marquis diligently.
At that time, she didn’t think the Marquis would die—hadn’t he been gravely ill before and recovered? Perhaps this was just another bout of illness that would pass in a few days.
Qin Chanyue did not suppress the news of Zhongyi Marquis’s illness, and many people heard about it.
When the news spread outside the mansion, those outside didn’t pay much attention. They occasionally inquired about what had happened at the previous banquet but didn’t particularly care about Zhongyi Marquis’s illness.
However, when the news spread within the mansion, the people inside became lively.
Jianming Courtyard specifically sent a servant to Qiufeng Hall to inquire, saying that Zhou Chiye had realized his mistakes during this time and, seeing his own father ill, wished to visit and offer comfort, serving his father in his illness to fulfill his filial duty.
He wanted to leave the courtyard and have his house arrest lifted.
However, at Qiufeng Hall, the Marquis had been critically ill and unconscious, requiring medicine to be spoon-fed into his mouth, making it impossible for him to respond to the servant. Aunt Xia, who could nominally be considered Zhou Chiye’s elder, held little weight in this courtyard. Her words were lighter than willow catkins in the second month—scattered with a gust of wind, unable to command anyone’s respect.
When she suggested releasing Zhou Chiye, who would listen?
After pondering for a moment, the servant from Qiufeng Hall had no choice but to report the matter to Shangyue Garden.
The news of Zhou Chiye’s desire to come out and attend to his father’s illness was relayed by maidservants all the way to the side chamber of Shangyue Garden. At that time, Qin Chanyue was inside the side chamber, conversing with Liu Yandai.
Liu Yandai had come with a mission. The night before, just before Zhou Yuanting was taken away, he had earnestly grasped her hand and urged her to plead for mercy the next day, to find a way to persuade his mother to release him.
“I am your husband,” Zhou Yuanting had said, his eyes reddened, gripping Liu Yandai’s wrist tightly. “We are husband and wife who have bowed to heaven and earth. Our fates are intertwined—when one prospers, both prosper; when one suffers, both suffer. I have made many mistakes in the past. Do not blame me. From now on, I promise, there will only be you.”
Upon hearing these words, Liu Yandai felt deeply uncomfortable. At the time, she dared not directly refute him, but the next day, when she came to Qin Chanyue, she poured out her grievances.
“He is utterly unworthy of being Pomu’s son,” Liu Yandai said indignantly, seated sideways on the low couch in the side chamber, holding a pastry given to her by Qin Chanyue as she ate. “His behavior yesterday was truly… disgraceful.”
If she were ever in a situation where she was poisoned, she would never trade Pomu’s dignity for her own safety. In such a case, she would rather dash her head against a wall and die.
Thus, she suddenly felt a deep disdain for Zhou Yuanting.
Before, she had thought Zhou Yuanting was a man of great talent and learning, and that it was only natural for him to look down on her, an uneducated woman. Now, she felt he was unworthy of her.
A person who cannot stand firm in matters of right and wrong deserves the scorn of others.
While Liu Yandai was angry, Qin Chanyue remained unfazed, her expression calm as she said indifferently, “No need to worry. He is at the manor estate and will never come out again.”
These manor estates were the rural properties of wealthy and influential families. Typically, the farmland of an entire village belonged to a single prominent household, and sometimes even several neighboring estates were under the same ownership. When someone was sent to a manor estate, they would be placed under strict supervision, shackled with iron chains, unable to even leave their quarters.
No matter how capable they might be, they could never escape from that small room.
Qin Chanyue would not allow them to escape either.
In her previous life, she had been trapped in a wretched situation, slowly dying in such a manner. Now, it was time for these people to taste the suffering she had endured. Just as she had died, she would make them die the same way.
Just as Liu Yandai nodded emphatically, a maidservant entered the side chamber to report that “the second young master wishes to attend to the Marquis’s illness.”
Upon hearing this, Qin Chanyue suddenly recalled the incident at the banquet when Bai Yuning had come and gone to Jianming Courtyard.
Her eyes flickered as she glanced at Liu Yandai beside her and said, “Pomu was very pleased with the person you sent over yesterday. Today, go to the storeroom and pick a reward for him.”
Liu Yandai had no suspicions and crisply agreed, then turned to follow the maid to open the storeroom.
After Liu Yandai left, Qin Chanyue dismissed the maids and summoned a private soldier to question him.
In no time, a private soldier clad in armor entered from outside, knelt behind the beaded curtain, and reported to Qin Chanyue.
“Reporting to Madam, that day, Miss Bai climbed through the window into the Second Young Master’s side chamber. After being intimate with him in bed, Miss Bai said that the Second Young Master had suffered endless grievances in the Houfu, and she had a way to help him turn things around. However, she did not specify what method it was. She only said she had a noble benefactor assisting her, told the Second Young Master to focus on recovering his health, and added that she would find a way to enter the mansion in the future to help him regain his footing.”
On the day Bai Yuning entered the mansion, Qin Chanyue had arranged for private soldiers to follow her. These soldiers were all skilled in martial arts—though not top-tier experts, tracking someone like Bai Yuning was effortless for them.
Bai Yuning had no idea that her conversation with Zhou Chiye had been overheard by the private soldiers, and later relayed through them to Qin Chanyue.
After listening for a while, Qin Chanyue’s expression grew increasingly cold.
This “noble benefactor” was likely the Second Prince.
In her past life, the Second Prince had used Bai Yuning to steal the strategic map. In this life, Qin Chanyue had replaced the map, so the Second Prince stole a fake one. However, the Second Prince had not given up; he was clearly planning something else.
She just didn’t know what Bai Yuning intended to do.
“What did the Second Young Master say?” Qin Chanyue asked.
The private soldier outside the beaded curtain slowly lowered his head and replied softly, “Madam, the Second Young Master said he has suffered endless grievances in this household, that the Marquis and Madam have oppressed him, and that he is willing to listen to whatever Miss Bai does.”
In Zhou Chiye’s eyes, Bai Yuning was now the only good person in the entire world, while everyone else was evil.
The Houfu had raised him for over a decade, granting him unparalleled status and privilege, yet in his eyes, it had all become oppression.
Now, Zhou Chiye’s willingness to humble himself before them was not genuine repentance. He simply didn’t want to be confined anymore; he wanted to get close to them, soften them up, and then find an opportunity to exact revenge.
Qin Chanyue gave a cold, mocking smile and said, “Dismissed. Continue keeping an eye on the Second Young Master.”
The private soldier acknowledged the order and withdrew.
—
After the private soldier left, Qin Chanyue took a deep breath and pondered her next move.
You can guard against a thief for a day, but not for a thousand days. Since the Second Prince was persistently targeting their Houfu, she would engage him in a covert battle.
If they wanted to come, then let them come!
She was also a young lady from a prestigious family. While she might not be able to contend with those in the imperial court, within the confines of the inner household, she would not yield an inch.
Qin Chanyue contemplated for a long time, feeling that delays could lead to complications and that some matters needed to be resolved quickly.
For example, the one in Qiufeng Hall.
Only with Zhou Ziheng dead could she truly have the final say in the Houfu—in the struggle against the Second Prince, Zhou Ziheng would undoubtedly oppose her.
In her past life, while working tirelessly for her elder brother, she had seen through Zhou Ziheng’s nature: he was deeply selfish at his core. He cared only for his own safety and avoided any risky endeavors—whether it involved the Bai family or Zhennan Wang.
The Bai family was finished, and he said it was their own fault, so he wouldn’t help. Zhennan Wang was finished, and he said it was for the sake of Houfu, so he wouldn’t help. When Qin Chanyue fought with the Second Prince, he would surely find excuses to shirk responsibility again, covering it up with high-sounding words.
At that time, Qin Chanyue would not only have to fight the Second Prince but also return to deal with Zhou Ziheng, who was dragging her down. Wouldn’t that make things even more difficult?
Therefore, that day, Qin Chanyue had a maid deliver another bowl of medicinal soup, claiming it was for nourishing the body. Aunt Xia promptly fed it to him. That night, Zhou Ziheng developed a high fever and nearly burned to death.
Even though he didn’t die, his days were far from easy. He was burned to the brink of death, hovering between life and death. Previously, he had been in a daze, unable to wake up. After this high fever, he finally regained consciousness, but upon waking, he could no longer speak, only gesturing clumsily with his hands.
Qin Chanyue was now preoccupied with the Second Prince and couldn’t be bothered to visit him even once, not even to put on a final show of concern. As for the one in Jianming Courtyard, Qin Chanyue had already released him.
She allowed Zhou Chiye to attend to Zhou Ziheng’s illness.
Zhou Chiye’s right hand had not fully recovered, so he couldn’t do much. He could only kneel by the bed and talk to his father. But for the gravely ill Zhou Ziheng, this was still a comfort.
Zhou Ziheng would laboriously gesture a few words, and Zhou Chiye, kneeling beside the bed, would try to guess their meaning. For a time, the animosity between the two seemed to dissipate somewhat.
But this did nothing to halt the deterioration of Zhou Ziheng’s condition.
His illness grew increasingly severe. Sometimes he would sleep for an entire day. Previously, the Doctor had said he might live for a few more months, but now it seemed he had only a few days left.
His time was running out!
When the Zhou family heard about this, they came to Houfu to visit.
Upon learning that someone from Zhou Mansion had arrived, Qin Chanyue, fearing they might notice something amiss, deliberately freshened up and dressed elegantly, assuming the demeanor of a virtuous wife and mother, and went to Qiufeng Hall.
It was the end of August.
At the end of August, Chang’an was unbearably hot and dry. Qin Chanyue sent Aunt Xia and Zhou Chiye away and stayed in Qiufeng Hall herself to personally care for Zhou Ziheng.
Zhou Ziheng was awake at the time—a rare moment of clarity. He held Qin Chanyue’s hand and occasionally managed to say a few words.
“I—I can still live,” he said, having aged considerably in recent days, with streaks of white appearing at his temples. His voice was halting as he spoke. “Call the Doctor, give me more medicine.”
He truly couldn’t understand. He hadn’t even reached forty, so why had he suddenly fallen so gravely ill?
He didn’t want to die!
And his dignified, gentle wife sat by his bedside, tenderly tucking in the blanket for him, saying, “I know. Don’t worry. My elder brother has invited the best Gu physician for treatment. In a few days, I’ll have him come to examine you. If the doctors of Dachen can’t cure you, perhaps the Gu physician can.”
Hearing his wife’s gentle words, Zhou Ziheng was moved to tears.
Others couldn’t be relied upon, but at the sickbed, it was still his wife who stood by him!
As they were speaking, a maid announced from outside, “Zhou Family Elder has arrived.”
Zhou Ziheng was momentarily confused.
He had been ill for days and didn’t even know his elder brother had come.
Instead, it was Qin Chanyue who quickly stood up and said to him, “Eldest Brother came specifically to see you. He sent a visiting card, but because you were seriously ill, I didn’t go into detail with you. I’ll go and bring him in.”
Beside him, Zhou Ziheng also nodded slowly, though his brows were slightly furrowed.
Others didn’t know, but in truth, his relationship with Zhou Ziji wasn’t that good. Years ago, the two had fallen out over the matter of the Juewei (Noble Title), and Eldest Brother rarely came to see him. He didn’t know why he had come today.
He tilted his head and looked toward the door.
A moment later, he indeed saw Qin Chanyue and Zhou Ziji enter together. Qin Chanyue was in front, Zhou Ziji behind, and the two were talking as they walked.
Zhou Ziji bore a sixty percent resemblance to Zhou Ziheng. When he entered from outside the door, his posture was composed and upright, giving Zhou Ziheng a fleeting glimpse of his own former self before falling ill.
Upon seeing Zhou Ziheng’s condition, Zhou Ziji’s face showed no signs of “heartache,” “sadness,” or “empathy.” Instead, it carried a faint hint of relief.
A maid nearby brought over two round stools. After Zhou Ziji and Qin Chanyue slowly took their seats, Zhou Ziji conversed with Zhou Ziheng for quite some time.
The bond between these brothers was thin, and their conversation consisted mostly of formalities. Once the pleasantries were exhausted, Zhou Ziji finally revealed the purpose of his visit.
“The Houfu is currently facing quite a few troubles,” he began. “The eldest branch harmed someone and was sent to the manor estate. The second branch injured their hand, and the third branch was sold off, leaving almost no one behind. In the future, even if the eldest branch returns to the Houfu, it will be difficult for them to command respect. The second branch, with their injured hand, cannot inherit the title. And now, with you gravely ill, there is no successor—”
A faint, confident smile appeared on Zhou Ziji’s face, which so resembled Zhou Ziheng’s. He continued, “Given this, Mother suggests that we bring one of your nephews to the Houfu, adopt him as your son, and have him inherit your Juewei.”
Both Zhou Ziheng, lying on the bed, and Qin Chanyue, seated beside it, grew cold in demeanor.
Well, the man wasn’t even dead yet, and they were already waiting to claim the inheritance.
In Dachen, the rules for inheriting titles were strict: those with physical disabilities could not inherit, those with wicked hearts could not inherit, and titles could not be granted beyond three generations. This meant a Juewei could only be passed down for three generations, and the heir had to be of upright character, free from wrongdoing, and physically whole.
Of the Houfu’s three sons, two were incapacitated, and one was confined to the manor estate for harming others. Strictly speaking, there truly was no one eligible to inherit the title.
Zhou Ziheng had not expected that, while he was still alive, someone would already be scheming over his inheritance. Enraged, his voice faltered as he lay on the bed, glaring and forcing out each word: “What… what do you mean, no successor? My eldest son… is the Shizi. Yuanting only made a minor mistake—”
Before Zhou Ziheng could finish, Zhou Ziji sighed and said, “I feel the same way. Our nephew only made a small error. However, outsiders might not see it that way. If our nephew were to inherit the title and an enemy exposed this matter, spreading it around, the Juewei would likely be lost. Wouldn’t it be better to find a reliable child to take over? After all, anyone from the Zhou family would be your son and bear the Zhou surname, right?”
Zhou Ziheng was nearly overwhelmed with fury.
Who would expose his son’s Juewei without reason? This was clearly Zhou Ziji’s ploy to seize the title!
Back when Zhou Ziji’s title had been taken from him through Zhou Ziheng’s schemes, Zhou Ziji had never forgotten it. Now that the Zhou family was in trouble, he had rushed over to reclaim it. If Zhou Ziheng refused to return it, Zhou Ziji would expose the matter himself, reporting Zhou Yuanting’s misdeeds to the Ministry of Rites. Once the Ministry verified the allegations—”Oh, it’s true!”—Zhou Yuanting’s title would be revoked.
The Houfu only has three sons, and if all three are unusable, then the Juewei must still fall upon a member of the Zhou family! It would be better for Zhou Ziheng to wisely bow his head and accept it now, saving trouble for his own son.
Zhou Ziheng’s face turned pale with anger.
Although they were nephews of the Zhou family, he hadn’t raised those nephews himself—they were someone else’s sons. Why should they inherit his Juewei? Moreover, if the Juewei were given away, wouldn’t the family’s land and assets have to be divided as well? Wouldn’t his vast family fortune just become a cheap gain for others?
Absolutely impossible! He would rather let the Juewei rot within his own household than give it away!
Zhou Ziheng angrily rebuked a few words, nearly breaking into a shouting match with his own elder brother on the spot.
But Zhou Ziji paid no mind. He leisurely rose to his feet and said, “This is the decision of the family elders. Though Father has passed, there are still ancestors above. Your disagreement is useless. When you fall gravely ill and depart, the clan elders will naturally petition the Ministry of Rites and the Emperor to confer the title upon our Zhou family’s own nephews. Your sons may not be suitable, but the Zhou family still has capable ones—this Juewei was passed to you from the Zhou family’s hands. There’s no reason to let it go to waste in your household. Brother, you may be dying, but your children are still alive. They can still rely on the Zhou family tree, can’t they? There’s no need to completely turn against your own family over something you can’t even use.”
With that, he stood up from the side chamber with a smug expression and left, leaving behind a Zhou Ziheng who was so furious he was rolling his eyes.
Thanks to Zhou Ziji’s visit, Zhou Ziheng indeed fell gravely ill that very night—so enraged that he was left gasping for breath, looking as though he might pass away at any moment.
Qin Chanyue’s bowl after bowl of chicken soup hadn’t managed to kill him, but Zhou Ziji accomplished it with just two sentences.
On the night Zhou Ziheng breathed his last, the entire Houfu was tense with anticipation.
The Houfu was about to undergo a great change.
This time, not only did Zhou Chiye request to visit, but even Zhou Yuanting, who was far away at the manor estate, sent word through someone, both wishing to fulfill their filial duties before their father’s death. However, the former was kept by Qin Chanyue in the side chamber next to Qiufeng Hall, while the latter was outright turned away.
On the night Zhou Ziheng died, Qin Chanyue stayed by his side personally.
She wanted to see him off with her own eyes.
—
That night, Qiufeng Hall was brightly lit.
The dying Zhou Ziheng had only his last faint breath left. He tried to reach out and grasp Qin Chanyue’s hand, murmuring, “I want to see our son.”
When a person is about to die, their words become kind. The hatred of the past was no longer worth dwelling on; he only wanted to enjoy a moment of familial warmth. Even the most heartless person could speak a few kind words at such a time.
Qin Chanyue, sitting by his bedside, did not immediately rise to call for their son. Instead, she quietly watched him.
Zhou Ziheng also looked at Qin Chanyue.
Today, Qin Chanyue was exceptionally radiant and beautiful, sitting in the glow of the brilliant lights, making him feel as though he had returned to the past, to their wedding night. What had he said that day?
His hand gradually touched Qin Chanyue’s arm. He said, “On the day we married, I swore—”
Qin Chanyue looked at him, her expressionless face slowly curling into a faint smile, one that seemed both mocking and scornful.
“You swore to treat me well for the rest of your life.”
“Then, do you remember what oath you made when you secretly met with Concubine Fang before that day?”
Zhou Ziheng was taken aback for a moment, then a faint smile of relief and smugness surfaced on his face. He said, “You’re still jealous? Such a childish temper.”
He was about to die, yet she still remembered this grudge.
She had no other flaws—she just loved him too much, which made her seem overly vindictive.
“If you resent me so much, then don’t forget me. Carry it into the next life, come find me to settle the score then. In the next life, I’ll still marry you.”
Under Zhou Ziheng’s gentle, doting gaze, Qin Chanyue’s smile grew wider and wider. She reached out, clasping his hand in return, and whispered, “We have no next life, husband. There’s something I must tell you.”
Thinking she was about to say something sweet, Zhou Ziheng lifted his head with effort, gasping as he said, “Go… go ahead.”
The radiant Madam lowered her gaze, the corners of her eyes tinged with a faint, gratified smile. She stroked his head affectionately and said, “You, you’re so gravely ill because I’ve been poisoning the chicken soup you drink every day. Who could ever love you? Someone like you will never be loved in this lifetime, and you don’t understand love either. After you die, I’ll burn your corpse and bury the ashes beneath the Fota, sealing you there for eternity. You’ll have no reincarnation, never again. Just thinking about how you betrayed me makes me sick, Zhou Ziheng—die knowing the truth.”
Zhou Ziheng’s smile on the bed gradually froze. He wanted to say something, but in the next moment, Qin Chanyue had already coldly withdrawn her hand.
Not only did she withdraw her hand, but she also pressed down forcefully on his chest.
Already struggling to breathe and unable to move, with Qin Chanyue pressing down on him, he felt his vision darken, gasping for air.
He wanted to shout “poisonous woman,” but he couldn’t move at all.
Just before death, all the past events resurfaced in his mind. Belatedly, he realized that every recent disturbance in the estate seemed to bear Qin Chanyue’s hand.
He vaguely remembered long, long ago, when they married, he first stepped through that door, and she stood inside, smiling brightly at him.
Later, when he kept an outside concubine, she had harmed him in this half-real, half-feigned manner.
His head buzzed.
All the past love turned false. He couldn’t accept it—Qin Chanyue didn’t love him! Qin Chanyue even wanted to kill him!
How could such a woman exist in this world? So ruthless and cruel. Even if she no longer loved him, couldn’t she just divorce him? Why did she have to kill him? What right did she have to kill him? He didn’t want to die! This wealth and glory, this wonderful life—he hadn’t had enough of it yet!
Qin Chanyue, Qin Chanyue!
He harbored so much hatred. He wanted revenge. He couldn’t die like this—
At that moment, Qin Chanyue leaned down slowly and whispered in his ear, “I almost forgot, there’s one more thing.”
“Before, I kept a male lover. He was quite impressive, truly made me feel ecstatic. If I had known other men were so formidable, I would have drugged you long ago.”
“Lacking in endowment—if there really is a next life, go be reborn as a eunuch dog.”
“It suits you.”
Zhou Ziheng was so enraged that he spat out a mouthful of blood and finally breathed his last, dead on the spot.
Qin Chanyue withdrew her hand with satisfaction, turned around, and with a swish of her skirt, called out toward the door, “Someone! Send out the funeral announcement and hang the white banners!”
That bastard died well. Today, I’ll see you off.
On your way!
—
When the news of Zhou Ziheng’s death reached the Prince of Southern Pacification’s Mansion, Chu Heng was in the midst of a secret plot with the Crown Prince.
The Emperor had never intended to take action against the Second Prince, so they decided to push the current Emperor a step further by orchestrating a grand scheme called the “Gu Poison Murder Case.” This would make the Emperor realize what chaos would arise in Dachen without Chu Heng, thereby forcing the Emperor to pass judgment on the Second Prince.
They were just discussing the details when someone knocked and entered from outside—it was Deputy General Qian.
Chu Heng was sitting on a low couch at the time, his expression cold and sharp, his gaze piercing as he glanced at Deputy General Qian.
He was plotting with the Crown Prince, and unless it was a major matter, Deputy General Qian would not have entered.
And this was indeed a major matter.
Deputy General Qian could hardly contain his excitement as he entered, performing a fist-and-palm salute and announcing cheerfully, “Bad news, Your Highness! The Zhongyi Marquis has passed away!”
The two men on either side of the low couch were momentarily stunned, falling into a brief silence.
Thinking of the Zhongyi Hou Mansion—both men on the low couch had their own thoughts. One was preoccupied with the Marquise, the other with the daughter-in-law of the Zhongyi Marquis. Neither was entirely innocent.
As for the Zhongyi Hou Mansion, while other families wore official caps on their heads, this family wore green hats instead. It was unclear what kind of feng shui the mansion gate had, but it certainly wasn’t auspicious.
After a long pause, the Crown Prince finally managed to squeeze out a sentence, “This matter is so sudden, truly, truly—”
“An evil affair,” Zhennan Wang added.
“Truly an evil affair!” Deputy General Qian concluded, repeated, and sighed emphatically, “Ah!”
What the three of them were actually thinking at that moment was hard to say, but on the surface, they managed to gloss over it.
After the secret plot concluded, the Crown Prince left the Prince of Southern Pacification’s Mansion. Once inside his carriage, he seemed to think of something and turned to the person beside him, instructing, “Prepare a funeral couplet and send it to the Zhongyi Hou Mansion.”
The subordinate from the Eastern Palace nodded in acknowledgment, though he couldn’t help but wonder inwardly when the Crown Prince had become so enthusiastic about the Zhongyi Hou Mansion.
But the Crown Prince felt this wasn’t enough.
Sitting in the carriage, the Crown Prince lowered his gaze and pondered for a moment before saying, “Never mind. The Zhongyi Marquis—nominally, he was my teacher. Tomorrow, I will pay a visit in person.”