Chapter 68

Chapter 68: Killing with a Borrowed Blade

Close maids beaten to death. The Shen clan exterminated to the ninth degree.

The people who had known the eldest young lady of the Shen family best were all dead, and the ones left—like a dowry maid court dancer—knew scraps at best.

The whole thing stank of conspiracy.

The Shen clan… wasn’t simple.

Shen Tang murmured, almost to herself, “Was the Shen clan really ‘moderate’?”

The “moderate” Tian Zhong described didn’t look like this. What kind of moderate family buried secrets this deep?

Sir Gu, ever eager to spin possibilities, offered one with a straight face. “Maybe Lady Shen Da had a lover and chose to flee the wedding. The Shen clan killed her close maids to silence them and cover the shame.

Unable to find Lady Shen Da and desperate for a substitute, they grabbed Young Lord Shen and forced a replacement marriage.”

He frowned as if sincerely puzzled. “But man and woman are too different. Gong Yun Chi might be young, but he isn’t blind. Whether you traveled by water or by land, you couldn’t fool him on the wedding night.”

Shen Tang stared at him like he’d grown a second head. “Lady Shen Da is my age—eleven or twelve—and she was an unmarried young lady raised behind closed doors. Where would she even meet an outside man, let alone run away for love?”

Her voice turned hard. “Stop reading cheap storybooks written by shabby scholars.”

Sir Gu’s expression shifted. He seemed to realize he’d crossed a line.

Whether the eldest young lady of the Shen family was alive or dead, tossing around guesses that stained her reputation was wrong.

He cleared his throat and pivoted, as if changing topics could fix it. “Then perhaps Second Master Shen found that strange coffin somewhere, liked it, bought it, and had it opened—only to discover you inside.

You’d been lying there for who knows how many years, yet your face was still fresh like the living. Stranger still, you still had a breath left—and you resembled Lady Shen Da.

So Second Master Shen smuggled the coffin back to Shen Manor. And when Lady Shen Da needed to disappear, you were used to replace her and marry out.”

Shen Tang listened without moving, then said flatly, “It’s a shame you’re not a storyteller.”

His first version was a tacky romance. The second turned into a horror tale: a preserved corpse waking up to become a substitute bride for an aristocratic clan young master.

Sir Gu actually nodded. “I agree. It’s a pity.”

He leaned back, almost relaxed now. “My lifespan is short. If I lived longer—if the world ever settled—I could become a storytelling sir.

I’ve spent years being forced to hear countless monstrous thoughts. Not telling them would be a waste.”

Shen Tang snorted. “The world settling? Settling whose world—the Northern Desert’s?”

Sir Gu didn’t answer.

“That’s just damned,” Shen Tang muttered.

“Young Lord Shen doesn’t think it will go well?” Sir Gu asked, watching her closely.

“I’ve heard the Northern Desert aren’t good people.”

“From who?”

Shen Tang was about to snap back when Sir Gu asked, almost casually, “From Qi Yuan Liang?”

Shen Tang’s brow tightened. “You really did your homework.”

Sir Gu smiled. “You overestimate me. This is Geng State’s territory. I have to keep my movements restrained.

Still… the names Qi Shan and Qi Yuan Liang—in some places—everyone knows them.”

Some knew them for priceless erotic paintings.

Others knew them for the number of enemies they’d made.

Sir Gu sounded mildly amazed that the man was still alive at all.

Shen Tang only said, “Oh.”

Sir Gu’s gaze sharpened. “How did Young Lord Shen end up mixed up with him?”

Shen Tang’s patience wore thin. “We’re not close. Whoever I mix with, what does it have to do with you?”

Sir Gu replied smoothly, “White hair can still be strangers; one meeting can feel like old friends.”

Shen Tang didn’t bother answering.

“I’m only saying this because I’m worried,” Sir Gu continued. “If you don’t believe me, go ask about Qi Yuan Liang’s scholar’s dao.”

“You know it?” Shen Tang asked.

Sir Gu just smiled.

She was done with the room. She stood, brushed at dust that wasn’t there, and turned away.

Sir Gu’s voice followed her. “And the court dancer? How will you deal with her?”

Shen Tang didn’t respond.

Sir Gu clicked his tongue, needling her. “If Young Lord Shen were not a man but a woman, and had no literary heart… her fate would be worse than death.

Such hatred—can you really let it go?”

Shen Tang glanced at the court dancer, still dazed under word-spirit, then looked back at Sir Gu.

“I’d have to pay compensation if I kill her,” she said.

That was the truth. She’d made how much money selling wine today?

And more importantly—if she didn’t kill the woman, Sir Gu would. He’d do it cleanly, without leaving a handle for anyone to grab.

Why stain her hands?

She was borrowing a blade.

Because the court dancer had heard Shen Tang speak out Sir Gu’s “scholar’s dao.” That alone was enough to seal her fate.

Sir Gu’s mouth curved, cold and knowing. “To run with Qi Yuan Liang… you truly aren’t a good person.”

Not long after Sir Gu left the Radiant Spirit Pavilion, the court dancer threw herself into a well and died.

Moonlight Tower.

The male courtesan sat reading a thick stack of letters. When Sir Gu returned, he didn’t bother hiding them.

“Sir Gu,” he asked, “did you find anything? Any problems with that Shen Tang?”

“I checked,” Sir Gu said. “No problems.”

The male courtesan’s eyes flickered with surprise. “Truly just a coincidence?”

But if Sir Gu said so, he didn’t press.

It would be best if Shen Tang had no issues. Then they had another reason for the Northern Desert to send troops into Geng State.

When Geng State’s internal chaos grew and it couldn’t protect itself, that would be the perfect moment to move.

“Sir, you’ve worked hard,” the male courtesan said. “Go rest.”

“Yes.”

Sir Gu bowed and left.

Only after he returned to his own room did his face change.

He set up a chess manual and studied alone, murmuring, “It’s time to go meet Qi Yuan Liang…”

Meanwhile, Shen Tang returned to the farmhouse.

Chu Yao was still teaching a student. Qi Shan sat under the corridor, head lowered, weaving bamboo strips. A pile of scraps and needlework lay beside him.

Shen Tang replayed the day in her mind and felt tired clear into her bones.

She dropped down with a heavy huff, trying to draw attention.

Only Chu Yao looked up. Qi Shan didn’t. He kept weaving, shaping the bamboo into a delicate frame.

“Wu Lang,” Chu Yao asked, “why the sighing?”

“I got bullied outside.”

Qi Shan snorted, amused. “You? Bullied?”

Shen Tang groaned and slapped her thigh dramatically, then pointed the accusation straight at him. “I got bullied by your old flame.”

Qi Shan paused. “…?”

“A Gu,” Shen Tang added, voice grim.

Qi Shan didn’t even lift his head. “I know people named Gu. If not a thousand, then eight hundred. Which one?”

Shen Tang narrowed her eyes. “So you really do have an old flame named Gu?”

Qi Shan fell silent.