Qixia Mountain was one of the most unremarkable mountains in Gui County, with no particular merit in terms of feng shui. Xing Muzheng never cared for such things, so when others advised him to choose a better burial site for his parents, he remained unmoved.
On the way up the mountain, Tian Linwen brought up the feng shui matter again. Xing Muzheng gave a perfunctory reply. Tian Bilian said, “No need to consult anyone. The feng shui here must be excellent—otherwise how could it produce someone like Cousin, a great general and a marquis!”
She looked affectionately at Xing Muzheng as she spoke, but he didn’t take it to heart. While having his parents’ protection from above was a nice sentiment, if everything was attributed to feng shui, then wouldn’t all his years of fighting through hell and high water become a joke?
The mountain wasn’t high. They arrived while chatting along the way. Xing’s parents shared a dual tomb in a joint burial. Qian Jiaoniang had hired people to cut down the trees nearby, mounded the earth, and even had a new gravestone made.
Li Qing often had people come maintain the area, so the tomb was free of weeds and very tidy. As soon as Liu Ying arrived, she threw herself at the tombstone, wailing, sobbing, and calling out, “My poor sister!”
Qian Jiaoniang pulled a mocking smile—but it vanished quickly.
Tian Linwen slaughtered a rooster, sprinkled its blood, and circled the twin graves. Qian Jiaoniang took out the offerings she had prepared, set three bowls before the tomb, and placed three small wine cups. Xing Muzheng poured wine into the cups.
Qian Jiaoniang had Xing Pingchun kneel and kowtow three times, then sent him off to catch bugs nearby. Ah Da also bowed three times and followed him. Qian Jiaoniang turned back—Liu Ying was still wailing. She walked over looking sorrowful, knelt beside her and cried as well, “Mother, Aunt has come to see you! The Aunt you missed day and night has finally come!”
Liu Ying stiffened slightly, wiped her tears, and kept crying. “Sister, my dear sister, why were you so unfortunate? You didn’t even live to see Muzheng return! I told you to stay with me, but you wouldn’t listen! I should’ve tied you up and kept you at my house! I regret it so much!”
She pounded her chest with her fists, looking filled with remorse.
Tian Linwen sighed and brought out incense paper and gold ingots for burning. “Wife, the dead have passed on—don’t grieve too much, or your sister won’t find peace in the afterlife.”
Qian Jiaoniang wiped her eyes. “Isn’t that the truth? Before my mother passed, she clutched my hand tightly and made me promise to bring Aunt. She said she must see Yingzi—if she didn’t, she’d die with regrets!”
Liu Ying’s spine went cold, but Qian Jiaoniang’s tearful voice continued, “I said, ‘Mother, I’ll definitely bring Aunt to see you. Please don’t die with regret!’ Now that I’ve finally brought Aunt here, Mother, your spirit in heaven can finally rest.”
Overwhelmed with sorrow, Qian Jiaoniang began weeping in earnest. Liu Ying, unwilling to be outdone, wailed even louder, forcing tears from her eyes. But as she listened, dread crept up in her heart. She made an excuse to stand, but Qian Jiaoniang pressed firmly on her shoulder.
“Aunt, my mother truly suffered in life. On her deathbed, the only person she thought of was you—she called your name day after day…” Suddenly, Qian Jiaoniang’s expression changed. Her voice dropped cold and low, a whisper only the two of them could hear: “So go down there and keep her company.”
Liu Ying’s eyes widened. She turned sharply to glare at Qian Jiaoniang, who was right beside her. With a sudden shove, she pushed Qian Jiaoniang.
At the fire pit, Tian Linwen was burning paper offerings. Qian Jiaoniang stumbled dangerously toward the flames, but Xing Muzheng reacted quickly and caught her by the back. Qian Jiaoniang steadied herself, then brushed him off. “Aunt? Aunt, what’s wrong? Why did you push me?”
Everyone turned and saw Liu Ying’s face twisted in pain. Her hands clutched at her own throat, eyes to the sky, as if she couldn’t breathe.
“Wife! Wife, what’s wrong?” Tian Linwen rushed forward in shock and confusion. Qian Jiaoniang also stepped up. “Uncle, what’s happening to Aunt?”
“I don’t know! Muzheng! Muzheng, come take a look!”
Xing Muzheng had already come forward. The moment Liu Ying saw him, her eyes rolled back, and she collapsed to her knees before the tombstone. Her head hit the ground, unmoving. She knelt perfectly in front of the grave, as if in repentance.
“Wife! Wife!” Tian Linwen called out twice.
Xing Muzheng leaned down and supported Liu Ying in his arms. He felt for her breath—there was none. Liu Ying resembled his mother. Seeing her die like this before him felt like watching his own mother suffer and pass. Xing Muzheng’s chest tightened painfully.
Tian Yongzhang and Tian Bilian stood frozen, stunned and confused.
“She’s dead,” Xing Muzheng said solemnly.
It was as if Tian Linwen had heard a ghost story. His wife… dead? She had been perfectly fine—how could she be dead?
The Tian siblings couldn’t believe it either. They rushed up, shaking Liu Ying frantically, as if they could shake her back to life.
Qian Jiaoniang stood still, sharply sucking in a breath. “How could this be? Could it be… Aunt was overcome with grief and just collapsed under the weight of it all?”
Sudden death from overwhelming sorrow—it did happen. But with his wife, and for her sister? Tian Linwen would never believe it.
In a daze, clarity suddenly struck him. He leapt up and pointed at Qian Jiaoniang, shouting, “It was—”
He had barely uttered a “you” when he suddenly felt he couldn’t breathe, as though someone was strangling him. He clutched at his neck, trying to call for help, but no sound came out. Suddenly his whole body convulsed like he was being flayed alive. Tian Linwen let out a gurgled cry and collapsed limply to the ground—dead.
“Father!” Tian Yongzhang screamed in a hoarse voice and rushed over, shaking him, but Tian Linwen didn’t move. His eyes stared blankly at the sky.
Xing Muzheng didn’t even need to step forward—he already knew Tian Linwen had stopped breathing.
He snapped his head toward Qian Jiaoniang. She looked frightened, her hands to her cheeks. “Uncle fainted! How could this happen?!”
The panic from losing their mother hadn’t yet passed, when their father collapsed too. Tian Bilian crawled over to Tian Linwen’s side. “Brother, brother, what’s wrong with Father?”
“Father is dead too!” Tian Yongzhang cried out, completely unhinged. “Father is dead too!”
Tian Bilian screamed in terror, her voice echoing to the heavens. “Ah—!”
Xing Pingchun and Ah Da were not far off, and when they heard the cries, they immediately ran over. Qian Jiaoniang shouted, “Chou’er, don’t come over! Go back to the carriage with Uncle Ah Da!”
“Mother, what’s happening?”
Seeing something was wrong, Ah Da quickly coaxed and half-dragged Xing Pingchun down the mountain.
Qian Jiaoniang stared at the two corpses on the ground, her chest swelling with a tangle of emotions—relief, grief, and a fierce sense of satisfaction.
She had kept her promise: she brought the Tian couple to her mother-in-law’s grave.
That mother-in-law had died at the hands of this heartless couple.
She still remembered back then, how they fled early one morning from Gui County with Chou’er. Qian Jiaoniang had planned to settle in a nearby town under a new name, so she could sneak back to get news of Xing Muzheng. But Xing’s mother insisted on going to her younger sister Liu Ying’s place, thinking she could rely on her. So they traveled a long way to Zizhou. On the road, they suffered many hardships and spent all the silver Xing Muzheng had left them.
They thought they would finally find peace at close kin’s home—but Xing Muzheng’s mother hadn’t known her sister had long ceased to be the loving family she remembered. Things were alright at first, but then, somehow, they heard that Xing Muzheng had died on the battlefield. And just like that, they turned their backs. In the dead of winter, they threw them out.
From that day, Xing Muzheng’s mother fell ill and never recovered. It became the shadow she could never escape. She lived every day in pain, guilt, and hatred. No matter how Qian Jiaoniang tried to soothe her, how many medicines and tonics she provided—it was useless. In the end, she died in agony.
Before she died, she gripped Qian Jiaoniang’s hand and begged her: if she ever found Xing Muzheng, she had to help him take revenge.
Xing Muzheng’s mother treated Qian Jiaoniang not like a daughter-in-law, but like a daughter. Their bond was deep. Qian Jiaoniang never forgot her promise—to make the Tian couple pay the price.
The Tians had guarded against her, always worried she’d speak ill of them to Xing Muzheng, or pull some trick. But they never truly understood who she, Qian Jiaoniang, was.
Now they were dead. Dead and done. Only with their deaths could this blood debt be settled.
