Chapter 259 The Zhou family bloodline is more important than anything else.
A piercing scream tore through the sky, startling several roosting birds.
Oil quenched on the whip, mixed with droplets of blood, splattered from the tip, leaving a few dark red marks on the cold ground.
Song Jiyun curled up on the ground, his whole body trembling violently, making a hoarse sound from his throat, like a broken bellows.
He could no longer utter a complete sentence.
Meng Shilan's chest heaved violently, and the fingers gripping the whip handle turned bluish-white from the force.
But her expression had already returned to its usual aloofness.
She let go.
The long leather whip fell to the ground with a "crack".
She didn't even glance at Song Jiyun again, as if he were just a dirty object not worth her attention.
She turned around, lifted her skirt, and walked out of the small house that imprisoned despair and madness, step by step.
The sunlight in the courtyard was still warm, falling on her.
Guo Fan and He Ran were already waiting outside the ancestral hall.
Only when they saw her slender yet upright figure emerge did the two of them go to greet her.
He Ran's injuries had not yet healed, and his face was still somewhat pale, but his eyes remained as calm as ever.
Guo Fan stepped forward.
"Miss."
Meng Shilan nodded slightly, her gaze passing over them and looking towards the direction of the Duke of Ying's mansion.
"There's no need to investigate." Her voice was very soft.
"It's her."
When Meng Shilan uttered those three words, it was as if she were stating a very simple fact.
The air seemed to freeze upon hearing this.
Even though Guo Fan had already guessed it, he still couldn't hide his shock when it was confirmed.
He Ran, standing to the side, had his pupils shrink and his face was filled with disbelief.
"How...how dare she?!"
He Ran's voice was trembling.
Having spent so much time in the military and witnessed countless deaths, she never imagined that the matriarch of a wealthy and powerful family would be so cruel to her own grandson!
"Pangxi is just a child!"
"Besides, he's Zhou Congxian's son, her own grandson!"
Meng Shilan's lips curled into an extremely cold smile.
"Yes, his own grandson."
She repeated it in a low voice, her tone full of mockery.
“But this grandson wasn’t born in the capital, nor did he grow up under her nose.”
"This grandson was born out of wedlock."
"In the eyes of the Zhao family, the bloodline of the Zhou family is more important than anything else."
"What does a child she's never even met matter for her so-called bloodline?"
Her words were like a sharp icicle, piercing deeply into the hearts of He Ran and Guo Fan.
Meng Shilan's thoughts drifted back to many years ago.
Those were the days when I was still living in the British Ducal House.
Zhao always ignored her completely, treating her as if she didn't exist.
It was as if she were just an insignificant flower in the backyard, left to grow and die on its own, not bothering her at all.
Even after Fu'er was born, she never really cared about her.
Occasionally, he would send someone to deliver some rewards, but this was merely a show for Zhou Congxian's benefit.
Zhao was cold-hearted by nature and disliked her as a concubine, and by extension, she disliked her daughter as well.
Looking back now...
Could it be because Fu'er was born in the Duke of England's mansion, right under her nose, and that her bloodline was legitimate, so she could feel at ease?
And because Fu'er is a girl, she was too lazy to bother.
And Little Fatty is happy...
Therefore, she decided to kill him.
How ridiculous, and how vicious!
Meng Shilan slowly closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, her eyes were filled with a deep, lifeless stillness.
From the moment she faked her death and left the capital with Fu'er.
That submissive, soft-hearted, and easily bullied Jiang Shi is already dead.
Standing here today is Meng Shilan of the Duke of Zhenguo's Mansion.
She is a mother of two.
Zhao family...
She actually dared to harm her child.
Then don't blame her for not showing any sympathy.
...
A few days later, the capital city welcomed a joyous occasion.
Empress Zhang's birthday.
Empress Zhang was His Majesty's second empress. Although they had only been married for two years, they were a loving couple, but unfortunately they had no children.
The Empress was frightened again at the autumn hunting grounds some time ago, and she is still feeling palpitations.
She didn't want to make a big fuss; she just wanted a quiet day in the palace, to bring a few female relatives from her maternal family into the palace for a chat, and that would be it.
But His Majesty felt sorry for her.
The empress had no children, and the palace was already desolate.
The last time she encountered danger, she was depressed for a long time.
His Majesty then wanted to take this opportunity to make things lively for her.
The emperor ruled in his own right for no more than three years, and no new women were added to his harem.
The harem was sparsely populated, and there was no playful noise from princes and princesses. It was so quiet that you could almost hear a pin drop.
Today is the Empress's birthday celebration. His Majesty has personally issued an edict inviting ladies of the third rank and above from the capital to the palace to offer their congratulations.
For a time, Fengwu Palace was bustling with activity, surrounded by jewels and jade, and it was a rare sight to see such a festive atmosphere.
As the legitimate daughter of the Duke of Zhenguo's mansion and the future wife of the Duke of Yingguo's heir, Meng Shilan was naturally among those invited.
She wore a dark blue dress with a silver-embroidered lotus pattern on the hem, which shimmered as she walked, exuding an understated yet dignified air befitting a noblewoman.
The banquet was held in the main hall of Fengwu Palace.
Empress Zhang sat gracefully on her throne, her face gentle, though a lingering weariness remained between her brows.
She accepted the congratulations with a smile, but her eyes kept searching for something in the crowd.
After the ladies of the court were all seated and several rounds of drinks had been served,
Empress Zhang finally couldn't hold back any longer and turned her gaze to Lady Zhao, who was not far away, and spoke in a gentle voice.
"The Duchess of England".
Zhao was holding a teacup when she heard this. She immediately put it down, stood up, and respectfully replied, "Your Majesty, I am here."
Empress Zhang's voice was gentle, with a hint of concern in her inquiry.
"I remember that the Miss Song who saved me at the hunting grounds last time is now staying at your residence?"
Zhao's heart skipped a beat, but she maintained a polite smile on her face.
"That's right, Your Majesty."
"I have always kept her in my thoughts."
Empress Zhang looked around, a hint of doubt in her eyes.
"With all this commotion today, where is she?"
As soon as Empress Zhang said this, many people in the hall unconsciously turned their gazes to Zhao.
Song Jiyun saved the Empress's life and thus gained the Emperor's favor.
But today, on the Empress's birthday, such an important occasion, Song Jiyun did not show up.
It's really puzzling.
For a moment, the smile on Zhao's face froze.
Her hand holding the teacup tightened slightly at the knuckles, which turned white.
How dare she say that?
She could say that because she suspected that the child born to Meng Shilan was not Xian'er's child, she had Song Jiyun and other martial arts practitioners intercept and kidnap him, but was killed in the process and then disappeared.
She didn't dare.
Song Jiyun was still bound by an imperial marriage contract.
His Majesty personally granted her permission to marry out of the Marquis of Wanning's mansion, which was a great honor for her, allowing her to marry into the Duke of Ying's mansion in style.
This marriage, to some extent, has become more than just a private matter between the two families.
It is also a matter of royal dignity.
At this moment, in front of all the princes and noble ladies in the hall, he was asked such a casual question by the Empress.
Zhao felt as if she were on a hot seat, caught in a dilemma.
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