“Sigh…”
The breeze drifted away, and only then did Wanqing let out a soft sigh. She stood up, took a lantern, and wandered among the herbs and flowers in the courtyard late at night.
After nearly half an hour of searching, she finally gathered everything she needed and returned to her room. She recalled the moment in the thatched cottage when she had used silver needles to detoxify Hongyan. She remembered clearly—Hongyan’s hand had twitched, and her eyelids had fluttered.
Though she wasn’t sure if Hongyan had been conscious at the time, to be safe, she had inserted another needle to keep her temporarily unconscious. Now, as long as she prepared the medicine and made her drink it, Hongyan’s recent memories would become temporarily blurred.
Once she woke up, Wanqing would perform a simple mental cleansing. She doubted Hongyan would suspect anything in the short term—at the very least, she wouldn’t tell Leng Mingye about the silver needle detoxification.
As for Leng Mingye’s side, thinking of the tasks still ahead, Wanqing personally went to the kitchen to brew the medicine. Only after feeding it to Hongyan did she finally exhale in relief.
“Sleep, rest easy. Why is Chunhong sleeping so soundly? It’s almost dawn, and I’ve been moving between the house and the courtyard—she hasn’t stirred at all. Chunhong? Chunhong…”
Seeing Hongyan fall into an even deeper slumber after drinking the medicine, Wanqing dragged her weary legs to her own room and lay down.
Only then did she realize she hadn’t seen Chunhong since returning. Normally, the girl was a light sleeper, yet despite all the noise in the kitchen and her pacing in the room, there had been no sign of her.
This strangeness filled her with an inexplicable dread. She immediately got up and headed to Chunhong’s room. Pushing open the door, she found the room pitch-black. More unsettling—everything was in its usual place, but the bed was empty, the covers neatly arranged as if no one had slept there at all.
“Where has this girl gone? Did she go out looking for me when I didn’t return?”
Realizing Chunhong hadn’t slept at all that night, Wanqing muttered in confusion before turning to leave.
By now, the sky was faintly bright. The maids of the Marquis’s residence were already stirring, some already moving about the courtyard.
“You there, come here. Tell me—have any of you seen Chunhong from my courtyard leave the estate?”
Wanqing had no patience for pleasantries, barely nodding in response to the few who greeted her. She went straight to the estate’s gate, stopping every guard to ask the same question.
She had assumed Chunhong had gone out searching for her, but the answers she received were unanimous—she hadn’t left the estate.
“How strange… Where could she have gone? Chunhong…”
After questioning several guards and hearing the same reply, a terrible suspicion grew stronger in Wanqing’s heart. Ignoring the pain in her shoulder, she hurried toward Zhuxiang Garden.
By now, dawn had fully broken.
“Chunhong? What’s going on? Chunhong… Oh, it’s you, Uncle Zhong. Why are you here? Have you seen Chunhong? I left yesterday afternoon, and she stayed behind—but when I returned late at night, she was nowhere to be found. Not even in her room…”
Zhuxiang Garden was just as silent. Her calls echoed through the empty courtyard, unanswered.
Heart heavy, Wanqing walked back to the corridor between her room and Chunhong’s. Suddenly, she heard footsteps behind her. Her face lit up with hope as she turned—
Only to see Uncle Zhong. Disappointment flashed across her face as she greeted the old man. Noticing his unusually somber expression, she led him to the outer flower hall, unable to hide her anxiety.
“Uncle Zhong, what’s happened to Chunhong? Please, tell me…”
The old man’s face was twisted with grief, his eyes brimming with tears. He wiped at them with a trembling hand, voice choked.
“Second Miss… Chunhong, she… she… I came to tell you—Chunhong, she… Oh, that poor girl…”
Wanqing’s heart turned to ice. Though she was terrified, she grabbed the old man’s arm, demanding answers.
“Uncle Zhong, I know you and Chunhong were close since childhood. But what’s done is done… I only heard—I didn’t see it myself. They say shortly after you left yesterday, a thief broke into Zhuxiang Garden. Chunhong caught him stealing… Those outside only heard her scream. By the time they rushed in, it was too late. She… she lay in a pool of blood. Her face… it was…”
The old man’s voice broke. He staggered back, collapsing to the ground, pounding the earth in anguish.
“Who could be so cruel? To butcher such a lovely girl… Oh, heavens…”
“No… No! This can’t be true. The Marquis’s estate has guards—how could a thief just waltz into my courtyard? It’s impossible! It can’t be real!”
Wanqing recoiled as if struck by lightning, shaking her head in denial until her back hit the wall. She slid down, tears streaming silently.
She had faced gunfire in her past life, yet never understood grief like this. Now, sorrow overwhelmed her.
“Second Miss… We didn’t want to tell you while you were injured. But I knew the truth couldn’t stay hidden. Please, don’t grieve too hard. The Marquis has already had her body taken care of—likely buried outside the city. If you go to him now, you might still… see her one last time. Second Miss, take care of yourself…”
Uncle Zhong, having vented his own sorrow, struggled to his feet. Seeing Wanqing slumped against the wall like a lifeless doll, he reached out to comfort her.
But before he could finish, Wanqing suddenly stood, wiping her tears. Ignoring her injuries, she stumbled forward, nearly falling in her haste.
“Second Miss! Be careful!”
The old man watched helplessly as she staggered away like a drunkard. Leaning against the wall, he wept bitterly, guilt consuming him.
“Sister Liu… I failed you. You asked me to care for these girls, but I couldn’t protect them. One is gone… Forgive me, Sister Liu…”
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