Chapter 198 The Tragic Fate of the Siblings
The western wing of the Marquis of Anguo's residence.
Inside the room, the lamp was dim and the light was yellowish.
After coaxing her sickly younger brother to sleep and carefully tucking him in, listening to his breathing gradually stabilize, Zhanfu quietly walked to the old couch by the window, sat down, picked up an old shirt of her brother that was half-mended, and, by the dim candlelight, bent down to thread the needle.
My fingertips traced the rough fabric, but my thoughts drifted uncontrollably away.
Suddenly, that figure appeared—Lu Bohong.
She remembered his strong arms lifting her up steadily, remembered him sitting upright on horseback, his kind and gentle gaze whenever he looked back, remembered him standing in front of her, rebuking the nanny who was making things difficult for her...
A faint smile had just crossed her lips when it was quickly suppressed by the cold reality.
She was ultimately just a lowly concubine's daughter in this marquis's mansion.
Her stepmother had already begun arranging a marriage for her, planning to betroth her to her nephew from her maternal family... She had vaguely heard that the man was a mentally challenged person who could hardly take care of himself.
But her stepmother said that this was a great favor, granting her the title of a legal wife.
She couldn't help but think of her elder sister, Zhan Lanyang.
The legitimate daughter, who had always had everything at her fingertips since childhood, asked the Dowager for this marriage because her mother had once saved the Dowager's life in a crisis.
Soon, she will become the esteemed Princess Consort.
Both are daughters of noble families, yet they are worlds apart.
Sudden.
The door was kicked open with a loud bang.
Lotus, the personal maid of the eldest sister Zhan Lanyang, rushed in at the sound of the commotion, carrying a basin of cold water in her hand. Her face was stern, and without saying a word, she poured the water on Zhan Fujun's face.
The cold water instantly soaked through my thin clothes, and the biting chill felt like needles pricking my entire body.
Zhanfujun shivered from the cold and looked up at the door.
Zhan Lanyang stood by the door, a handkerchief lightly covering his mouth and nose, his eyes filled with disgust and mockery: "Today, Hao Qing, the eldest son of the Marquis of Xiang'an County, hosted a banquet. Do you know how those people looked at me? Every word they uttered was a taunt that my Zhan family had produced a thief, and they even said that the Marquis of Anguo's family had a corrupt family style, causing me to lose face completely!"
She snorted coldly, "This basin of water is just a small punishment to deter others."
His gaze fell on Zhan Fujun's face, which appeared even paler and more fragile after being soaked through, yet possessed a unique pitiful quality. Zhan Lanyang gritted his teeth in jealousy.
She was of ordinary appearance, with a round face and narrow eyes, and had been jealous of her half-sister's beauty since childhood.
It was Hao Qing's comment during the banquet, "Your half-sister is quite beautiful," that led her to plot against Zhanfu.
She couldn't help but shriek, "Just like your mother, you were born with a vixen-like face!"
Having said that, he turned and strode away.
Zhanfu slowly hugged her arms, her soaked body trembling uncontrollably.
She knew in her heart that if she hadn't been told a few days ago that she would be invited to the celebration banquet at the Xiao family mansion, she would probably have been beaten black and blue and bedridden by now.
As for the sarcastic remarks made at the banquet that Zhan Lanyang mentioned?
She was just an insignificant concubine's daughter. Why would those shrewd young masters and ladies offend the future princess for her sake?
The so-called theft was actually a frame-up by Zhan Lanyang.
All the trouble stemmed from her face...
Zhanfu raised her hand and gently touched her cold cheek.
The cold water seeped into the old wound on my back, causing waves of excruciating pain.
Just then, a faint noise came from the bed.
The sickly delirious Zhang awoke, groggily opening his eyes and weakly calling out, "Sister... what's wrong? I heard a really loud noise..."
When his blurry vision finally caught sight of his older sister standing in the house, soaked to the bone with water droplets still dripping from her hair and her thin body trembling slightly, he immediately panicked.
"Sister!"
He didn't know where the strength came from, but he struggled to get out of bed, his little face flushed red with urgency and weakness.
Zhanfu immediately rushed to the bedside and gently pressed him back into the quilt: "Zhang'er, be good, your sister is fine, she just accidentally spilled some water. You should lie down and not get up."
Although young, Zhan Zhang had already learned to read people's expressions and moods.
He looked at his sister's pale face and soaked clothes, and he knew exactly what was going on.
He stubbornly broke free from his older sister's hand, climbed off the bed with all his might, and threw himself into Zhanfujun's cold arms, hugging her tightly and bursting into tears: "Sister... Waaah... They bullied you again..."
Zhanfu hurriedly pushed him away: "No...no, Zhang'er, let go quickly, your sister is cold, be careful that the cold air passes to you!"
But Zhan Zhang hugged her even tighter, her little shoulders twitching as she cried uncontrollably.
In the end, Zhanfu couldn't bring herself to do it, so she let him hold her and gently patted his back.
After a while, she gently coaxed, "Okay, don't cry. Sister really needs to go change into some dry clothes, or you'll catch a cold."
She gently broke free from her brother's embrace, turned and walked quickly toward the door, not daring to look back.
Looking at his older sister's thin and resilient figure, the eight-year-old boy was filled with helplessness and self-blame. He murmured in a tearful voice, "Sister...it's all Zhang'er's fault...I'm always a burden to you..."
Zhanfu, who had already reached the door, suddenly stopped in her tracks.
She fought back the tears that threatened to spill, took a deep breath, turned around, and gave a gentle smile: "Silly Zhang'er, don't talk nonsense. Getting some sleep and taking care of yourself is the best thing you can do for your older sister."
After saying that, she added, "You have never been a burden to your older sister."
She strode into the small, cold room next door, slammed the door shut behind her, and pressed herself against it.
The suppressed coughing from next door felt like a dull knife, scraping at her heart again and again.
Her fingertips gripped the damp, cold cuffs tightly, as if she wanted to tear the fabric to shreds.
"If it weren't for you... feigning compassion back then, taking Zhang'er in to raise him yourself while secretly damaging his health... how could he have gone from a healthy infant in swaddling clothes to this frail, sickly person, suffering from this illness every day..."
"If it weren't for you... framing my mother for stealing the jade disc from the manor, and having those ravenous servants drag her into the courtyard and beat her to death while she was still weak after giving birth..."
Memories surfaced in my mind.
She seemed to see that cold night again, her mother wearing only a thin undergarment, being pressed down on the cold bluestone ground by several expressionless old women.
The heavy stick whistled through the air as it slammed down on the body, which was still weak and exhausted from childbirth.
At that time, Zhanzhang was only a month old and cried incessantly in his wet nurse's arms.
She was only twelve or thirteen years old when she frantically kowtowed and begged, her forehead hitting the stone slab and blood seeping out: "Please, stepmother, spare my aunt! My aunt didn't steal anything, she's been wronged, please!"
Chen's face was cold, and she kicked her away.
She stumbled forward again, clinging tightly to her father's leg, her face streaked with tears, pleading, "Father! Father! Please have mercy! Please stop them from hitting Mother! I beg you, they'll kill Aunt! My little brother is so young..."
But those cloud-patterned official boots remained completely still.
The person sitting there simply looked away indifferently.
All the gazes around him were cold and indifferent.
She could only watch helplessly as her mother's pleas grew from piercing to faint, and finally, there was no sound at all.
The glaring red stains on the ground became her nightmare for countless nights thereafter.
Tears mingled with the cold water dripping from her hair, silently sliding down her cheeks.
She didn't utter a sound, but simply let the salty tears flow into her mouth, mingling with the bloody memories, and swallowed them down.
In her heart, there was a chilling cold and a deep-seated hatred.
The Xiao residence.
Under the same moonlight.
Lu Bohong, dressed in a tight-fitting outfit, wielded a long spear like a dragon emerging from the sea, thrusting, parrying, sweeping, and slashing, each movement accompanied by the sound of air being cut.
Sweat soaked his temples, but he was completely unaware.
After finishing a set of marksmanship, he stood still, his chest rising and falling slightly.
The moonlight shone on his heroic face, and his usually resolute eyes were now filled with longing and worry.
Delirious Lady...
I wonder if she is doing well in that noble household right now?
Is her sickly younger brother still alright?
Is she still mending clothes under the lamp, her eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep?
Thinking of her frail figure and the lingering sorrow between her brows, Lu Bohong felt a dull ache in his heart.
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