Chapter 43

Chapter 43: A Piece of the Truth Puzzle

Shen Tang wanted to flip a table.

No memories from the body’s original owner, and yet she kept running into people tied to that life like it was some sick joke.

First Tian Shou Yi’s “Niece-in-law.” Now Gong Yun Chi’s jaw-dropping “Brother-in-law.”

If she were anyone else, she might’ve already been dragged into a ditch by the sheer momentum of these misunderstandings.

Shen Tang clenched her fists so hard her knuckles hurt. Her jaw locked, her expression dark enough to scare off strangers.

To anyone watching, it looked like she was swallowing a rage that could explode at any moment—and that all of it was aimed straight at Gong Yun Chi.

The male courtesan stepped in, placing himself between Shen Tang and the injured boy. Turning his head, he asked, “Brother Yun Chi… this is your Brother-in-law?”

He knew what had happened on the wedding day. Gong Yun Chi’s clan fell, was exiled, and the bride—who hadn’t even finished the formal bows—was swept up too.

He’d also heard the bride’s Shen clan had been exterminated to the ninth degree, hundreds of lives spilled on the execution grounds.

Gong Yun Chi’s throat worked as he answered, “He should be.”

Shen Tang snapped, voice sharp. “What do you mean, ‘should be’?”

She wasn’t even trying to scold him, but it came out like a blade anyway. Didn’t he even know how many people were in the household he’d been marrying into? Even with an arranged marriage, that was careless beyond reason.

Shen Tang meant one thing.

Gong Yun Chi heard another.

To him, every word sounded like a cold, sarcastic accusation: the Shen clan was wiped out, Madam Gong was only exiled, and now he couldn’t even say the relationship clearly—like he didn’t acknowledge it.

Shame hit him so hard his body swayed. He almost collapsed.

Sir Gu and the male courtesan reacted instantly, catching him from either side. But the movement tore at his wound. Fresh blood soaked through the cloth chit.

“Brother Yun Chi!” the male courtesan urged, voice tight. “Calm down.”

Sir Gu’s tone was blunt. “Tear it any worse and even a master physician won’t save you. Whatever it is, speak slowly.”

Shen Tang stood there, suddenly aware of a very ugly truth:

She had no script. No memories. No safe path.

So she did the only thing she could—she acted. Half bluff, half instinct, and prayed she didn’t trip over her own lies.

The servant had already ushered the shopkeeper out. When the door shut, the room held only four people now: Shen Tang, Sir Gu, the male courtesan, and Gong Yun Chi.

Shen Tang drew herself up, right hand behind her back like she was restraining herself. “Gong Yun Chi—since you’re injured, I won’t waste time arguing over petty details.”

Gong Yun Chi was the closest thing she had to a living witness. He’d been there when the household fell. He’d know far more than Qi Shan’s secondhand rumors.

She needed answers. So she decided to force them out.

Gong Yun Chi’s lips moved. “Thank you, Brother-in—”

Shen Tang cut in coldly, “Since you insist on calling me that, I’ll ask you one thing. Where is she?”

She didn’t need to name who “she” was. Anyone in the room could understand.

The title made Shen Tang’s teeth ache. Hearing it again was like getting stabbed with a needle.

Gong Yun Chi’s face turned ghost-white.

Before he could speak, the male courtesan said carefully, “Sir Gu and I saved Yun Chi. At his request, we sent people to the entertainment bureau in Xiao City to search for Sister-in-law… but we were too late. She wasn’t among the women who arrived.”

He hesitated.

Sir Gu finished it without hesitation. “She died on the road.”

Sir Gu’s voice stayed calm as he added, “More than a month of marching in shackles. Even healthy men don’t survive that easily. For a young girl who hadn’t even reached hairpin age…”

He didn’t spell out every danger, but the implications were heavy: hunger and thirst, beasts and disease, and constables escorting prisoners like they owned their bodies.

A female prisoner’s odds were always worse than a male prisoner’s.

Dying halfway wasn’t shocking. It was expected.

Shen Tang turned her back on them, shoulders trembling slightly. Not because she was heartbroken, but because she needed them to believe she was. She took a few deep breaths, letting the movement show.

Acting was brutal work. It demanded conviction like a knife.

Then she said, voice tight, “So now I’m the one making trouble for no reason.”

The male courtesan couldn’t help himself. “The Shen clan was exterminated by Zheng Qiao’s order. What does that have to do with Yun Chi?”

Shen Tang snapped, “Are you the one involved?”

The male courtesan went silent.

Gong Yun Chi swallowed and forced the words out, shame burning behind them. “Weng Zhi… it isn’t related to me, but it is related to Madam Gong.”

Shen Tang closed her eyes.

There was a mind-reader in the room. Thinking too much was dangerous. She forced her mind to go empty, like a door bolted shut.

Weng Zhi pressed, unwilling to let it go. “So it really is?”

Gong Yun Chi’s voice turned bitter. “Yes. Otherwise, why would the wedding have been so rushed?”

Shen Tang gambled. She threw out a line like she was speaking from bitter experience, hoping it would bait him into explaining. “If there was no connection, what noble household marries off a girl before she reaches the hairpin age?”

Her voice sharpened. “She was still a child. What was the point? To make her someone’s child bride?”

Weng Zhi had no answer for that. The bride’s age really was… wrong.

He looked at Gong Yun Chi, demanding the story.

Gong Yun Chi exhaled slowly, as if each word hurt. “Back then, Zheng Qiao wanted to return to his homeland. My father supported him openly to lull him into carelessness, but secretly contacted court officials. Among them was my father-in-law, Lord Shen.”

“Lord Shen joined hands with my father. My father moved in court. Lord Shen used hidden contacts within the inner palace, and he allied with Consort Chu—favored at the time—planning to strike Zheng Qiao from within and without.”

“But it failed. Consort Chu and her child died, and the news leaked.”

His fingers tightened against the cushion. “Consort Chu was five months pregnant. She was framed, miscarried, and died. The ruler of Xin flew into a rage and destroyed her homeland. The people who came with her—maids, servants, retainers managing her affairs—more than two hundred in total… were reduced to slaves and sold.”

Sir Gu’s gaze sharpened. “If the Shen clan only assisted and wasn’t the mastermind, why were they exterminated to the ninth degree?”

Gong Yun Chi shook his head, helpless. “That… I don’t know.”

He looked exhausted as he continued. “If my father hadn’t pressed again and again, Lord Shen would never have stepped forward. He was always moderate. Always low-key. He didn’t seek trouble.”

“When Zheng Qiao led troops back, my father knew something was wrong. He and Lord Shen made plans—plans to marry the Shen clan’s eldest lady into our family.”

A bitter laugh escaped him. “My father wasn’t exposed. On the surface, he remained Zheng Qiao’s ‘benefactor.’ If Zheng Qiao took revenge on the Shen clan, at least one bloodline might survive.”

His eyes dulled. “But Zheng Qiao doesn’t follow anyone’s rules.”

Shen Tang stood with her back still turned, thoughts threading together into an ugly picture.

The Shen clan she’d fallen into was one thing. The Xin State royal house that also carried the surname Shen was another entirely.

Same name. Different blood.

And now she was standing in the middle of the wreckage, holding a life that wasn’t hers, trying to figure out which piece of the puzzle she’d become.