Chapter Nine: Deviation

The Marchioness rose in shock, looking toward the Marquis of Chengwu in confusion. The Marquis was deep in thought, his expression grave. Zhao Xianzhi, sensing that something was amiss in the unfolding scene, realized it was time for him to intervene.

Before he could act, however, Zhao Zhizhi spoke up, tears streaming down her face as she reacted to Meng Zhenyue's earlier words. "Big brother told me that since sister has just returned to the manor, many things have happened, and I should be more accommodating toward her. I have tried to be, but I don't know why... why it is always my maid who causes problems."

Zhao Zhizhi stepped forward, knelt beside Meng Zhenyue, and gripped her hand. "Sister, I would never wish you harm. I thought... I thought perhaps you were displeased because I showed too much concern for our big brother, and that is why you framed Chunzhu to teach me a lesson."

Hearing this, the Marchioness, unable to tend to the emotions of either daughter, closed her eyes in pain at the realization that struck her. The Marquis of Chengwu glanced at Zhao Xianzhi, rubbed his temples, and ordered his trusted aide, "Take that maid away and interrogate her with torture." This was his way of ensuring Chunzhu would be silenced, regardless of what information might be extracted.

Zhao Xianzhi sensed the subtle shift in the two elders' demeanor and felt a sudden jolt of alarm. Things were spiraling out of control. He shot a sinister look at Meng Zhenyue, preparing to intervene to salvage the situation. Just then, a servant scurried in and reported, "My Lord, Steward Cheng has returned!"

Steward Cheng was the one sent to retrieve the midwife. Zhao Xianzhi, thinking of his subsequent plans, decided to let the matter rest for now. It might be even more effective to settle everything at once. He sneered in Meng Zhenyue's direction. The Marquis also looked at Meng Zhenyue, who remained on the floor, before signaling for the servant to bring the steward in.

Observing the two men’s conflicting thoughts, Meng Zhenyue felt an immense thrill. The timing was perfect. Before coming to the flower hall, she had received word that Steward Cheng would arrive within the hour. Everyone turned toward the entrance.

Steward Cheng entered, looking disheveled and alone. "My Lord! We encountered some trouble on the road—"

The others, like the Marquis, felt their hearts tighten at his words. Only Zhao Xianzhi felt a secret delight; everything was proceeding according to his plan. Before his thoughts could fully form, however, the steward continued, "When we arrived, we found the midwife dead!"

Dead? Zhao Xianzhi was stunned. Had things veered off course again?

"We found this at the scene; it was likely left behind during the struggle," Steward Cheng said, pulling a mask from his robes. His expression grew increasingly grave. "It has been confirmed that this belongs to the same group of hired thugs available on the market, the same ones who used perfume-like tricks to delay us on the road!"

As the others reeled from the revelation, the Marquis quickly regained his composure and looked at Meng Zhenyue. Suddenly, he wondered if he had been too suspicious—how could Meng Zhenyue, raised in the countryside, possess such wealth? Then, he recalled that the Marchioness had given her money.

He looked down at Meng Zhenyue, who had been helped up by Mother Xu, and asked in a deep voice, "What did you do with the money your mother gave you?" His eyes were filled with suspicion.

All eyes turned to Meng Zhenyue. She met the Marquis's gaze, her dark pupils glistening with unshed tears. She spoke calmly, "When Mother confirmed my identity, she sent me five hundred taels. When the servants came to fetch me, she gave me another thousand. After arriving at the manor, she presented me with ten sets of jewelry, five shops, and a two-courtyard residence."

"I haven't spent any of that. The money I used for the gifts was earned by copying books and doing needlework for others." She paused, her eyes downcast with a wounded expression, and stated directly, "If Father doubts me, you are welcome to have it checked."

The Marquis hesitated, looking at her, but it lasted only a moment. He had to consider the interests of the Marquisate and signaled his aide to investigate.

"Father, please calm your anger!" Zhao Xianzhi interjected urgently, trying to stop him. "Do not misunderstand sister." He realized Meng Zhenyue was playing a game of retreating to advance, and his own plan was doing the same. He had never expected the small trick with the perfume to coincide so perfectly with Meng Zhenyue’s actions, leading the Marquis to suspect her.

His original plan had been to have his men disguised as thugs to stop the Marquis’s carriage, then have the midwife claim Meng Zhenyue was not of the Marquis’s bloodline. He would then expose the flaw, argue that the midwife had been bribed, and frame the Prince Chen faction. That way, he would emerge unscathed, and the midwife would be executed as planned. His goal was merely a distraction—after all, who would believe the Prince Chen faction would use the Prince’s own mark to commit a crime?

He could not let Meng Zhenyue continue to play the victim. He was certain that if they investigated her belongings, they would find something, and Meng Zhenyue would then reveal the cracks in his own scheme, eventually pointing the finger at him. He had to divert their attention immediately.

"Sister, what reason would you have to do this?" he continued. "Silencing the midwife only makes the situation more convoluted, causing us to suspect one another. Perhaps that is exactly what the person behind this wants." He bowed, his expression contrite, and added pointedly, "The matter of the 'Severing Sight' poison from earlier remains unsolved; it is my incompetence."

The Marquis found this reasonable. Otherwise, everything was too coincidental, all aimed at Meng Zhenyue. Could the Prince Chen faction be so active? Had they already found the real child? Had his mother’s trip to Xiaozhou been a step too late? The Marquis felt a tremor of fear, yet something still felt wrong.

At that moment, the aide who had taken Chunzhu away returned and reported, "My Lord, forgive me. The woman is dead. It was the 'Severing Sight' poison."

Upon hearing this, the Marquis and the others were finally convinced. The Marchioness breathed a sigh of relief. Zhao Zhizhi took Meng Zhenyue’s hand, her eyes watery, looking at her with a mix of grievance and excitement. "Sister, do you believe me now?"

Before Meng Zhenyue could answer, a servant rushed in, looking anxious. "My Lord, there is a woman in mourning clothes at the main gate, kowtowing and demanding to see you. She says she is seeking justice for her foster mother."

Meng Zhenyue smiled inwardly. Qi Baiwei had arrived sooner than she expected. Zhao Xianzhi turned his head uneasily toward Bei Lie, who frowned and shook his head to indicate he knew nothing.

Everyone assumed the woman in mourning must be connected to the midwife. Did she know Meng Zhenyue was behind the murder and come to demand an explanation?

"Bring her in," the Marquis ordered after weighing the options.

"The eldest young master of the Marquis of Chengwu murdered my foster mother, Midwife Qi!" As soon as Qi Baiwei entered, she glared at Zhao Xianzhi with hatred.

Who? The eldest young master?! The crowd was stunned, as if snow had suddenly fallen in the heat of summer.

The Marquis shouted without hesitation, "You dare spout such slanders inside the Marquis of Chengwu’s manor!"

"Where did this madwoman come from? Throw her out!" the Marchioness added immediately.

Zhao Xianzhi remained as composed as a mountain, smiling dismissively. "Absurd! Who sent you?"

Zhao Zhizhi gripped Meng Zhenyue’s hand tightly, staring at Qi Baiwei with hostility.