"Zhang Yun?"
Zhao Xin's eyes widened when she heard the name, and she turned to look at Jing'er.
"My lady..." A hint of panic flashed across Jing'er's face, and she involuntarily took a step back.
Zhao Xin grabbed Li Wei by the collar and questioned her loudly.
"Which Zhang/Zhang, which Yun/Yun?"
Li Wei was startled by her and glanced at Luo Pinzheng in a flustered manner.
"cough!"
Luo Pinzheng coughed lightly, signaling Zhao Xin to release the person.
After Zhao Xin let go, Li Wei straightened her collar with a slight tremor in her heart and stammered, "It's...it's the 'bow' radical and the 'cloud' radical!"
Upon hearing the answer he had guessed, Zhao Xin turned around and glared angrily at Jing'er behind him.
She walked towards him step by step. "I remember, you said you had a deceased older sister named Zhang Yun?"
Jing'er took a few steps back in fear and spoke in a trembling voice.
"Wife, mistress, it must just be a coincidence of names, how could it be her? It can't be her! She, she's been dead for two or three years!"
"You were the one who bought Jing'er's coffin back then, and you were the one who watched her burial!"
"Jing'er, Jing'er followed you because of this! Have you forgotten?"
Jing'er burst into tears, looking as if she had been frightened.
Zhao Xin stared at him, lost in thought, unsure whether to believe him.
"Maybe he got into the Zhao family under this lie! He got a rich wife and could support his sister at the same time—it's a great deal!"
"Sister Zhao, don't you think so?"
Su Qinghe suddenly spoke up jokingly, enjoying the spectacle.
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