evening.
The entire general's mansion was enveloped in a strange atmosphere.
Qiao Yuchen's death brought deep sorrow to everyone.
Every maid and servant was careful in their actions, never speaking unless absolutely necessary, and even walking became a cautious affair.
Beiyuan was no exception to this situation.
When Aunt Jiang brought the food to the inner palace, she was very worried when she saw the person still on the bed.
"Young Madam, please eat something first. Not eating or drinking all the time won't be good for your health," Aunt Jiang advised from the side.
Chunlan and Chunping were also trying to persuade her.
"Young Madam, please don't be too sad!"
"Young Madam, the dead cannot be brought back to life. Please accept my deepest condolences!"
Just when they thought that, like at noon, Chen Siyuan would continue to refuse to drink and remain under the covers, the blanket was slowly lifted. What they saw was not Chen Siyuan's face full of tears, but rather Chen Siyuan with tears in her eyes and a smile on her lips.
"Young Madam?"
Jiang Ma, Chunlan, and Chunping all knelt on the ground. Could it be that the young mistress really couldn't accept this blow and had gone mad?
Chen Siyuan seemed oblivious to the terror in their eyes; all she could think about was that he was still alive, he was still alive.
He—did not die!
With this thought in mind, and seeing the small bowl next to her, she immediately picked it up and started eating quickly.
They ate too quickly and spilled food everywhere.
When Jiang Ma and the others saw this scene, their hearts sank again. Could it be that the young mistress had really gone mad?
Thinking about this, they were very worried, but dared not interrupt.
At this moment, the young mistress still knew how to eat; if she were to start a hunger strike, it would be even more unacceptable to them.
Unexpectedly, Chen Siyuan wolfed down her food for a while, then got up, changed into a plain-colored outfit, and staggered outside.
Aunt Jiang and the others quickly followed.
They were worried that the young mistress had really gone mad and might do something irrational.
At that moment, Chen Siyuan had only one thought in her mind: Qiao Yuchen was not dead, so what was being sent back?
Something's strange about this.
I thought again of what Qiao Yuchen said when he left: no matter what you hear or see, don't believe it.
Is this what's happening right now?
As she walked, lost in thought, her steps faltered slightly, yet each step was firm.
Chen Siyuan tried to tell herself that Qiao Yuchen was no ordinary person; he was the leader of the Demonic Sect, with many disciples behind him.
They cannot be killed easily.
He possessed both martial arts skills and intelligence, unlike those inflexible officials who lacked adaptability. In Qiao Yuchen's eyes, shamelessness and rules were all mere decorations.
In critical moments, Qiao Yuchen's mind works faster than anyone else's; he could easily die.
Chen Siyuan arrived at the mourning hall under the cover of night.
With no outsiders around, the general's mansion became eerily quiet.
However, the maids and servants were very worried when they saw Chen Siyuan arrive, remembering the scene of Chen Siyuan acting like she had gone mad during the day.
As Jiang Ma watched Chen Siyuan about to enter the mourning hall, she quickly whispered to her, "You have a long life ahead of you! You must try to think more positively."
"Young Madam, if you are feeling very uncomfortable, just cry it out!"
"Please don't let sadness ruin your health. The young general in heaven wouldn't be able to bear seeing you like this."
Chen Siyuan turned her head and glanced at them, and Jiang Ma and the others could only shut up.
They could only watch as Chen Siyuan walked step by step into the mourning hall and headed toward the coffin.
At this moment, Chen Siyuan's mind was in a bit of a mess.
She came to the coffin again, wanting to take one last look, but the coffin was now fixed in place, and she had neither the tools nor the ability to push it open.
Butler Yu had been watching Chen Siyuan ever since she arrived, worried that she might do something crazy again, so he quickly stepped forward.
"Young Madam, please let the young general rest in peace!"
Chen Siyuan slowly turned her face to look at Butler Yu, wondering to herself, "Does everyone believe that the person in the coffin is Qiao Yuchen?"
If this is one of Qiao Yuchen's moves, it wouldn't be a good thing for me to remain too calm at this point.
Without figuring out exactly what was going on, she felt she should act like a wife.
Seeing that a maid was still burning paper money in the brazier, she went over, knelt down, took the paper money from the maid's hand, and put it into the brazier one by one.
She knew in her heart that no matter who was in the coffin, she deserved all of this.
Butler Yu breathed a sigh of relief.
Chen Siyuan's silence and lack of smiles looked somewhat eerie, but thankfully she didn't do anything crazy during the day, which put his mind at ease.
Standing to the side, thinking about the future of the General's Mansion, I sighed inwardly, wondering if the General's Mansion really couldn't have an heir.
Looking at Chen Siyuan kneeling on the ground, he suddenly had a bold idea. Chen Siyuan and Qiao Yuchen had been married for so long. If she was pregnant with a child at this time, it would be the flesh and blood of the General's Mansion. General Qiao was in the right place at the right time. It would be possible to train an outstanding young general.
He had thought that the General's Mansion had no hope and no future, but now he seemed to see a future for it.
At this moment, everyone in the mourning hall was enveloped in a somber atmosphere, and no one noticed that in a few corners, people came and went.
Chunlan and Chunping both needed to be skilled in martial arts, and they were worried about the young mistress, so they noticed these subtle movements.
Chunlan took the opportunity to turn her head and saw Wang Yong walking in from outside.
They understood each other a little better than Wang Yong.
Chunlan saw anger, not sadness, on Wang Yong's face.
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