In the afternoon, Tai Ping Residence gradually quieted down.
Diners paid their bills and left, satisfied and content after a hearty meal. Some carried boxes in their hands—special pastries made by Tai Ping Residence, available for takeaway. Those fond of them would always bring some home to enjoy later with tea.
The cheerful chatter of the patrons was soon interrupted by the sudden sound of approaching hooves and wheels, as a cloud of dust rose on the main road.
“So many people coming to eat?” they exclaimed in surprise, only to see over a dozen horses and a carriage charging straight ahead.
But the newcomers didn’t head for the front of the establishment—they stopped directly at the back gate of Taiping Residence.
As the dust settled, everyone could see that quite a crowd had already gathered at the rear entrance.
Another commotion?
“No need to worry, King Kong is watching over the place,” a regular said nonchalantly, noticing the alarm and confusion on the faces of other guests. With a touch of pride, as though privy to some insider knowledge, he added, “No matter how big the trouble, it always gets resolved in the end.”
The young men of the Chen family dismounted in a hurry, and Madam Chen stepped down from the carriage without assistance. As soon as she did, she saw Zhou Liu-lang standing guard by the door.
“Zhou Liu-lang, I distinguish clearly between gratitude and resentment. If you step aside now, this matter will have nothing to do with the Zhou family,” Madam Qin said.
“Madam, she is treating the patient,” Zhou Liu-lang replied, repeating the same words. “I ask that you wait a moment.”
“Then tell me—my son, is he dead or not?” Madam Qin asked.
Dead or not?
He had checked for breath himself…
Zhou Liu-lang remained silent.
“Zhou Liu-lang, you’ve always been a child who never lies. Whatever you say, I’ll believe it,” Madam Qin said again.
“She doesn’t treat those not at death’s door,” Zhou Liu-lang replied.
Madam Qin burst out laughing, so hard that tears welled in her eyes.
“So first she kills my son, and then she saves his life?” she said. “And now I’m supposed to kneel and thank her for her great kindness?”
Zhou Liu-lang said nothing. He simply stood his ground, blocking the doorway without moving.
“If anything happens to him, I’ll pay with my life,” he said in a low voice.
Madam Qin spat.
“What’s your life worth!” she sneered. “And what’s the worth of your whole family’s lives!”
She pointed a finger and shouted:
“Beat him!”
Madam Qin had come in haste, bringing only two or three young servants and guards. The rest were maidservants and attendants. At her command, men and women alike surged forward.
Zhou Liu-lang still held his ground stubbornly at the door, letting the blows rain down on him like a storm.
“Don’t hit him, don’t hit him! Let’s talk this through!” Madam Chen said urgently as she rushed forward.
The two young men of the Chen family, along with their men, quickly surrounded the scene. Compared to Madam Qin, the Chen family had come better prepared and with greater numbers, and they soon forced Madam Qin’s people to retreat.
“Madam Chen,” Madam Qin said, glaring at her, eyes filled with fury. “So your family is determined to protect that wicked girl?”
“She’s not that kind of person—there must be some misunderstanding,” Madam Chen said, her tone tinged with pleading. “Just wait a moment. Didn’t they say she’s in the middle of treatment? A life is at stake. If you barge in like this and ruin the last chance to save him… even if you killed all ten of them, it wouldn’t make up for your son.”
Qin An rushed out from the government hall, his hands and feet trembling slightly. The servants behind him had to jog to keep up.
“Master, Master, the horse is over here!” the attendants called out, watching in surprise as Qin An headed straight for the gate.
Only then did Qin An turn back toward the horse.
Something had happened to his son. Something had happened to his son.
With shaking hands, Qin An grabbed the reins, but in his haste, he fumbled and couldn’t mount the horse properly. The servants hurried to help him up.
After much effort, he finally got onto the saddle—only to be stopped by someone who rushed over and seized the reins.
“Master Qin,” Chen Shao called out, his face full of worry. “Please, hear me out.”
Qin An wrenched the reins back.
“Lead the way, lead the way,” he said, his voice trembling. It seemed as though he neither saw nor heard the man standing before him.
Chen Shao held on tightly to the reins.
“Master Qin, just listen to me for a moment,” he pleaded anxiously.
The commotion had already drawn curious junior clerks peeking out from behind the gates.
“I don’t have time to listen to you,” Qin An said, finally turning his gaze toward Chen Shao. “My son… he’s still waiting for me to see him one last time. If I’m late, I won’t get to see him. I won’t… get to see him.”
His quivering words were spoken softly, but they tugged at the heart like a knife.
Chen Shao clutched the reins tightly.
“Word is… it was brought on by anger,” he said in a low voice. “Master Qin, Lady Cheng is not that kind of person. Besides, your son once helped her—she would never take his life.”
Qin An nodded repeatedly.
“Yes, my son is the best,” he said. “He’s already suffered enough… why would anyone still want to hurt him?”
As he spoke, he looked directly at Chen Shao.
“I don’t care who she is, whether it was intentional or not—immortal or demon—if she harms Shi’san, then she must die!” he said slowly and firmly, enunciating each word. “No matter who stands in the way, no matter what it takes—she will not escape death!”
As he spoke, he reached out to seize the reins again.
But Chen Shao held on with all his strength.
“Master Qin,” he said, also speaking slowly and firmly, “do you remember Spring and Autumn loyalty? The death of Wen Zhi?”
Qin An was momentarily taken aback.
Seeing more riders galloping toward them, the two madams who had been at a standoff at the gate both stepped forward to meet them.
Madam Qin’s tears fell before she could even speak.
Madam Chen also raised a hand to wipe away her tears.
Chen Shao glanced toward the doorway, where a dark crowd of more than a dozen people stood, blocking the entrance. Among them were his own sons and servants, the brash young man from the Zhou family, and a few unfamiliar men—likely those sworn brothers of Cheng Jiao-niang.
He let out a small breath.
“You’re trying to persuade me? And you’re listening to them?”
Madam Qin’s sharp voice suddenly rang out from the side.
Chen Shao and his wife quickly looked over, only to see Madam Qin staring at them in utter disbelief.
“Maybe… maybe there really is a misunderstanding,” Qin An said hesitantly.
“I don’t care about any misunderstanding!” Madam Qin cried through her tears. “All I know is that my son is gone!”
She clutched at her collar, as if she could no longer stand.
“My son is gone…”
Tears streamed from Madam Chen’s eyes as well, and she nearly collapsed to her knees.
“She can save him—she can save him,” she said, rushing forward and grasping Madam Qin’s shoulders, sobbing as she spoke.
But Madam Qin pushed her away and turned to hurl herself toward the door.
“I want to see my son. It’s my fault—I caused this. I’m the one who harmed him. It’s my sin. Why is the punishment falling on him? Bodhisattva, you should’ve made me crippled, made me blind—why did you take my son?”
Seeing her charge forward, the people at the door instinctively stepped back a little, but still stood their ground firmly.
The maids, unwilling to let their mistress get into a scuffle with men in broad daylight, quickly stepped in to hold her back and restrain her.
The commotion had long since drawn the attention of diners over at Tai Ping Residence. Now, with both Chen Shao and Qin An present, even though there weren’t many customers, a few sharp-eyed and well-informed ones quickly recognized them.
More people began to gather around, pointing and whispering among themselves.
“Let’s go inside and talk,” Chen Shao said quietly.
Hearing this, Xu Maoxiu immediately stepped forward to lead the way.
“This way—this is the room we usually stay in,” he said.
Qin An looked at the tightly blocked doorway, then at the growing crowd of onlookers pointing and murmuring. He sighed and waved his hand.
The maids hurriedly supported Madam Qin—who was now sobbing so hard she was nearly fainting—and followed after him.
“What exactly happened?”
Inside the room, Chen Shao asked anxiously.
But no one could answer.
The servants and others who had been present at the time were all locked in the courtyard. The young servant who had run out to deliver the message had only heard someone say that the young master had died—as for what actually happened, he didn’t know. The only person who truly knew the truth… was Zhou Liu-lang.
But Zhou Liu-lang, after being called in, remained completely silent.
“You child, speak clearly—it’s better for her too,” Madam Chen urged anxiously.
“It doesn’t matter whether I speak or not,” Zhou Liu-lang said sullenly. He looked up at the people in the room. “No matter what I say, it won’t change anything. Just wait and see what the result is.”
Yes—what good would it do to explain?
Even if it was all just a misunderstanding… could the matter really end here?
No one in the room said another word.
Even if they managed to save his life, this affair likely wouldn’t be over.
Unless…
Qin An lifted his head and instinctively looked toward Chen Shao—who was also looking at him. The expressions on both men were complicated.
That matter… is it possible?
Could it really be possible?
