A young beggar quietly nudged another beggar next to him: "The second son of the Yongding Marquis? Living in our bridge hole? And calling himself the 'gang leader'? Is he crazy?"
Another beggar sneered, his voice low: "Who cares? Whoever feeds you is your mother! This guy is a bit clueless, and he thinks he's some kind of boss! He's happy to beat people up and get paid. Next time there's work, I'll do it just the same!"
"That's right! As long as there's money, it's all! Whether it's a marquisate or not, it's none of our business!"
…
Sang Wenyin had been hiding in the shadow of the narrow alley diagonally opposite the corner gate of the Sang Mansion for five whole days.
The alley is narrow and is filled with a lingering smell of dampness year round, mixed with the foul odor of the empty chamber pots of the houses next door.
At first, Sang Wenyin tried hard to suppress her nausea, but later she became numb.
Her legs went from sore and swollen to stiff, and from stiffness to a tingling numbness. The soles of her coarse cloth shoes, which were already frayed, had long been soaked by the cold mud and water in the alley, and the cold air was climbing up through the soles of her feet.
She leaned against the blue brick wall behind her, her eyes fixed on the corner door of the Sang Mansion.
Occasionally, a servant would come in and out, and the doorman would lazily lean on a bench, not even bothering to lift his eyelids.
Sang Wenyin tensed her body every time and almost rushed out, but the remaining rationality tied her firmly to the spot.
Liao Lingxi was so ill that all the maids who could be mobilized in the mansion rushed to his room to serve him, and the small courtyard where she lived was completely empty.
No one combed her hair, no one fetched water for her to bathe, let alone food or tea.
After a few days, she had used up all her savings on a few cold, hard steamed buns bought from the street. Her hair was tangled in a ball at the back of her head, her face was covered in dust, and the coarse cloth dress she was wearing was so dirty that it had lost its color.
She could only wait.
Waiting for an opportunity to see her mother, Mrs. Sang, is the only straw she can grasp and her hope of escaping from the current nightmare.
When the sunlight on the morning of the sixth day finally split the clouds and pierced through the darkness in the alley, Sang Wenyin heard a rumbling sound coming from the direction of the gate of the Sang Mansion.
She stood up suddenly, and immediately felt a sharp pain in her legs. A black mist suddenly filled her eyes, and her body swayed.
She quickly held onto the brick wall, the severe pain forcing her to suppress the dizziness.
Absolutely not to be missed.
She dragged her legs and staggered out of the alley.
The afternoon sun was so bright that it blinded her. She subconsciously raised her hand to block it, but tears flowed uncontrollably between her fingers.
Through her blurred vision, she saw the gorgeous carriage parked in front of the gate of the Sang Mansion. The windows were covered with precious brocade curtains, and only a few blurry figures inside could be vaguely seen.
Several well-dressed maids and servants gathered around the carriage, directing the servants to move a rosewood step stool to the bottom of the carriage and help people get on.
Seeing the familiar figure in front being carefully supported by someone, Sang Wenyin's heart suddenly tightened even though she only saw the back of the person.
"mother!"
She rushed towards the carriage desperately.
"Stop her! Where did this crazy woman come from?"
The doorman, Old Li's mean face, suddenly appeared in front of him. He appeared from nowhere and strangled Sang Wenyin's waist with his strong and powerful arms.
"Get out of here!" Sang Wenyin struggled recklessly, her nails clawing at Lao Li's face and neck. "Let me go! Mother—it's me! I'm Yin'er! Mother! Look at me!"
Her feet kicked on the ground, splashing mud, water and a few pieces of crushed grass onto the new skirt of a young maid next to her, causing the girl to scream and jump to the side.
The sudden commotion stopped Mrs. Sang, who was about to get into the car.
She was steadily supported by an old maid and turned around. Her well-maintained face still wore the careful makeup of an upcoming banquet, but her brows were furrowed, with a hint of unhappy doubt.
The figure was dressed in rags, covered in filth, and his hair was a mess like a grass nest.
The third and fourth daughters Sang Wenzhu and Sang Wenhua, who were born out of wedlock, had already gotten out of the carriage. At this moment, they were lifting a corner of the curtain and looking out, their faces full of disgust.
"What are you arguing about?" Madam Sang's voice was low, but it carried the weight of the undeniable authority of the mistress of the house. "Be careful not to startle the carriages and horses. Why are you making such a commotion? Just gag them and drag them away."
She just thought that some crazy beggar who didn't know how to live or die had bumped into the team.
"Madam... no... Madam, it's me!" Sang Wenyin's strength was almost exhausted under Lao Li's tight grip. Her voice was filled with desperate crying, but she still tried to raise her head. Her red eyes, soaked in tears, stared at Madam Sang without blinking.
"Mom! Mom! It's me! Yin'er is back! Look at me! Look at Yin'er!"
The word "Yin'er" made Mrs. Sang's foot, which was reaching for the step stool, suddenly stop in mid-air.
She suddenly stopped holding the nanny's hand, narrowed her eyes slightly, and looked carefully at the haggard and shapeless face for the first time.
Her pupils contracted slightly and her lips opened as if she wanted to say something.
"Mother! Mother, save me! Zhu'er and Hua'er hurt me! They sold me to that..." When Sang Wenyin saw the hesitation that flashed across her mother's eyes, a faint spark of hope suddenly ignited in her heart.
Sang Wenyin had barely finished her sharp accusation when a delicate, crisp voice suddenly rang out from the carriage, carrying a tone of deliberate surprise and worry: "Ah! Mother, watch your step!"
The one who spoke was the fourth young lady, Sang Wenhua. She had jumped off the carriage lightly without anyone noticing, and in two steps she squeezed next to Madam Sang.
With a look of deep concern on his face, he reached out and affectionately held Mrs. Sang's other arm, half-blocking his mother.
She glanced up and down at Sang Wenyin, her voice neither too loud nor too soft, just loud enough for everyone around, especially Madam Sang, to hear clearly: "Mother, please be careful with your step, don't bump into anything. It's so dirty, it's bad luck. I wonder where this crazy woman came from, maybe she came to the wrong door?"
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