Good Ending: She Swears She Will Not Let Him Die!

The side room was damaged, so Mrs. Wang sent someone to pay compensation in silver, added a considerable amount of incense money, and voluntarily suggested copying some scriptures for offering, then the matter was settled.

The carriage descended Qinglian Mountain.

Mrs. Wang leaned on the pillow, rested against the carriage wall, and when the big maid handed her tea, she waved it away: "It’s fortunate that Qinglian Temple closed its doors to visitors today. If pilgrims had been streaming in, it would have been more than just a loss of face for the Zhen Family; dragging Yunluo down with them and letting this spread back to the Capital, I feel dizzy just thinking about the reactions from the Dingyuan Marquis Mansion and the Du Family."

"It’s not just you, Madam; none of the maids and mamas foresaw such a mishap today. Otherwise, they would have all been attending to the cousin instead of leaving just a few hands by her side." The big maid, seeing Mrs. Wang unwilling to drink tea, moved closer to her and gently massaged her temples.

Mrs. Wang sighed at her words: "Wasn’t there a distinguished guest at the temple? They were probably afraid that continuing the disturbance would alarm the guest, so the monks let it pass without mentioning it. This is Qinglian Temple, and yet one can make such a scene here..."

The maid secretly curled her lips; she thought that the monks did not pursue the matter further because Mrs. Wang had offered to copy scriptures.

That abbot might have been formidable during the late Emperor’s time, but that’s old history. Qinglian Temple is no royal temple, and besides a spring, what’s left in it?

After all, her mistress is from the Langya Wang Family. To have her hand-copied scripture for offering is also a matter of dignity.

Mrs. Wang closed her eyes to rest, unaware of the maid’s expression, listening to the sound of the carriage wheels turning beneath her: "It’s fortunate that Yuan and Qi did not come today; otherwise, they’d be caught up in this affair as well..."

In the carriage behind Mrs. Wang, Mrs. Zhen had calmed down a lot.

Seeing Du Yunluo sitting silently on the side, Mrs. Zhen gently comforted her: "Once we return, don’t be afraid; in Yanxi Hall, your mother will stand up for you. Since he has lost all face and respect, why should I give him any dignity?"

Du Yunluo’s mind was filled with the image of Mu Lianxiao, his smile, his care, the hand he placed over hers, with calluses from years of martial arts practice, not prickly but rather ticklish, warm in the palm, just like in her memory.

As she thought about it, a smile slowly spread across Du Yunluo’s lips, but she was snapped out of it by Mrs. Zhen calling her name. Startled, she looked up: "Mother, what did you say?"

Mrs. Zhen was taken aback.

She thought Du Yunluo was somewhat flustered and lost in thought, but it seemed not to be the case.

Feeling puzzled but unable to guess why, Mrs. Zhen decided to press on and repeated herself to Du Yunluo.

This time, Du Yunluo frowned deeply.

"What’s the matter? Are you afraid your grandparents will shield him?" Mrs. Zhen cupped Du Yunluo’s face, "No, your grandfather and grandmother are very particular about rules and propriety. It’s obvious he’s in the wrong, and they won’t shield him."

Du Yunluo pursed her lips, but these were not her concerns.

Without a doubt, Zhen Wenqian was at fault, but pursuing the matter wouldn’t do her own reputation any good either.

What concerned Du Yunluo the most was Old Mrs. Hou and Mrs. Zhen’s positions.

After all, Old Mrs. Hou was not the biological mother of the Zhen Family Brothers. When there are no conflicts, the contradictions aren’t apparent, but when something happens, it might not be the case.

If the punishment is too light, people might say that married daughters are like spilled water, and that even a legitimate granddaughter doesn’t measure up to a legitimate eldest grandson; if too heavy, it might create a rift between Old Mrs. Hou and her son and daughter-in-law, whom she needs to rely on in her old age.

Mrs. Zhen adores her daughter. Would she be willing to let Old Mrs. Hou be caught in a difficult position?

Moreover, if the matter blows up and spreads back to the Capital, how will Mrs. Zhen continue in the Du Mansion?

The Miao Family, due to their own family holding them back, ended up being neither here nor there. In the eyes of Old Mrs. Xia, Mrs. Zhen and this in-law from Tong City were always easy to get along with and well-mannered. If she knew Du Yunluo almost suffered a great deal under Zhen Wenqian’s hands, how could Mrs. Zhen hold her head up in the Du Family?

In Shuifu Garden, they wouldn’t just laugh off the matter, and in Anfeng Courtyard, Liao would laugh her teeth off.

Du Yunluo did not want to see that scene.

"Mother, when we go back, just explain everything to Grandfather and Grandmother, don’t overthink it, and don’t make Grandmother’s position difficult," Du Yunluo said softly.

Mrs. Zhen was surprised.

She knew Du Yunluo’s temperament best. In a situation like this, it wouldn’t be strange for her to make a fuss; any other girl in her position wouldn’t swallow this resentment.

But Du Yunluo said not to make things difficult for Old Mrs. Hou.

Mrs. Zhen hugged Du Yunluo tightly, her eyes turning red. Her Nannan had grown up, understanding to care for her elders, but...

But it pains her!

Her Nannan has suffered a great grievance, yet because the other party is her maternal cousin, Du Yunluo has to weigh her temper.

"Mother," Du Yunluo leaned into Mrs. Zhen’s embrace and asked in a low voice, "leaving aside where Zhen Wenqian got the wine, why did he bother me when he was drunk? I always thought he was a bit strange before; who knew today he would become a madman."

Mrs. Zhen’s hand on Du Yunluo’s back paused. After some thought, she spoke truthfully: "I only heard from your second aunt after arriving in Tong City this time. She said that during the New Year, your grandmother wanted Qian to marry you, but whether it was your first aunt who disagreed or Qian himself, the matter was left unresolved, and they never mentioned it to us."

Du Yunluo was shocked, lifting her head from Mrs. Zhen’s embrace, her eyes wide: "If they didn’t agree then, what kind of play is he putting on today?"

No sooner had she spoken than she remembered Zhen Wenqian saying under the corridor lamps that she had changed a lot since her childhood.

Du Yunluo puffed out her cheeks and sighed. She wanted to ask Zhen Wenqian if she had become easier to bully, leading him to lose his mind.

The carriage did not stop at the main gate of the Zhen Mansion but instead entered through a side gate, heading straight to the inner gate.

Mrs. Chen felt dizzy when getting off the carriage, but she mustered up her spirits to cast a glance at the older servants staying outside the side room and said: "You all come with me to Yanxi Hall and kneel."

The maids, anxious and frightened all the way, knew the matter was not easily resolved, and with heads bowed, they complied.

Mrs. Chen then pointed at Zhen Wenqian and said: "You don’t even think about tidying up first. This disgraceful incident—I can’t say it; you explain it to Grandpa and Grandma yourself."

The group arrived outside Yanxi Hall.

Old Mrs. Hou knew they had returned and sent someone out to greet them.

Seeing the grand array, the smile plastered on her face quickly disappeared, and she lifted the curtain to invite them in.

Old Mrs. Hou was also taken aback: "What happened?"

Zhen Wenting attempted to help Mrs. Chen to her seat, but Mrs. Chen refused, pushing her daughter away and kneeling with a thud in front of Old Mrs. Hou.

Old Mrs. Hou’s expression darkened; she knew something must have happened.

She did not ask Mrs. Chen to get up but dismissed the maids and old servants from the room and sent someone to invite Old Master Zhen.

Old Master Zhen hurried over, followed by Zhen Wenyuan and Zhen Wenqi. When Mrs. Wang saw the two, her eyes filled with anger, and after signaling them incessantly, they finally found an excuse to leave.

Old Master Zhen sat cross-legged on the Arhat Bed, cleared his throat: "All right, speak."