Chapter 46

Chapter 46: Doubts

The moment everyone heard Chen Zhong Yi was dead, a fierce, dizzying relief swept through the room.

Tang Yi Chen had woken up. The stone lodged in their throats finally loosened. And now their enemy was gone too—didn’t that mean the last shadow hanging over the family had finally lifted?

“Then the 50 taels we owed…” Tang Lu Wu started.

“The patrol inspector said it doesn’t count,” Qin Hui Yin said. “We don’t have to repay it. Madam Chen ran overnight after Chen Zhong Yi’s accident. The Chen Family is long gone. If they’d stayed, I would’ve gone to their door and demanded the medical fees.”

Her gaze flicked to the little paper bundle of medicine on the table, to the bowl stained dark from herbs. She kept her voice light anyway. “What a pity. We’ll have to pay this out of our own pocket.”

“Don’t worry,” Tang Yi Xiao said, face flushed with excitement as if he’d been handed a second life along with his brother. “I’ll work hard and earn it back.”

They had just paid two taels for treatment—painful, but nothing compared to the bottomless pit of 50 taels that had been waiting to swallow them. Two taels felt like a pothole; 50 taels had been a cliff.

A sharp voice cut through the air outside. The apothecary apprentice led Li Tao Hua in.

“So you didn’t die.” The moment Li Tao Hua saw Tang Yi Chen propped up against pillows, the worry on her face snapped into something fierce and prickly. “Good. We’ve spent so much silver supporting your studies. If you died like this, wouldn’t all that effort go down the drain?”

Tang Yi Xiao shot to his feet. “My brother’s tuition was waived. He earned his own writing fees. He didn’t spend your money—”

“Younger Brother.” Tang Lu Wu hurriedly tugged his sleeve and glanced toward Qin Hui Yin, trying to smooth the air. “Auntie Li is worried about Elder Brother. She just… she says it differently.”

Li Tao Hua glared at Tang Yi Xiao. “Fine. Ungrateful little wolf. My daughter cooked meat for you these past few days—did it all go to the dogs?”

“Mother.” Qin Hui Yin stepped between them and caught Li Tao Hua’s arm, firm but gentle. “If you’re worried, then be worried. No one’s laughing at you. Why do you insist on saying the most awkward thing on purpose?”

“I’m not worried about him at all.”

Qin Hui Yin raised a brow. “Then why did you come all the way to the clinic? With your temperament, if you didn’t care, you wouldn’t even lift a foot.”

“I came because I figured you’d be coming back soon, so I came to pick you up!” Li Tao Hua snapped. “If I cared about him, I would’ve come yesterday. Would I wait until now?” She stabbed a finger toward Qin Hui Yin. “You little brat—are you taking his side instead of mine?”

Tang Yi Xiao, still bristling, blurted out what he’d been holding in. “The person who came to the countryside yesterday was just a messenger. He didn’t explain anything, and he definitely didn’t say Elder Brother was hurt this badly. He only said someone needed to go to Elder Brother, so I went into town with him.”

“I knew it,” Qin Hui Yin said, a smile tugging at her mouth despite everything. “If Mother had known Elder Brother was hurt like this, she wouldn’t have ignored it. That’s just how she is—her mouth is tough, but her heart is soft.”

Li Tao Hua went silent.

[Soft-hearted?]

[Hah. Only her precious daughter would dare pin that kind of flattering hat on her.]

She cleared her throat, then forced the conversation onto safer ground. “What now? Is he recovering here?”

“I think we should go home to recover,” Qin Hui Yin said. “The wound is too close to his heart. He can’t return to the private school for a while. And the tutors have been running around for Elder Brother this whole time. We should go thank them—and ask for a long leave.”

She turned to Third Master Tang. “Third Grandpa, please take me to the school. I’ll buy a few things to show our gratitude.”

“No need for gifts.” Tang Yi Chen’s voice was thin, but steady. “If I pass the exams and earn my degree, that will be the best thanks. Help me borrow a few books from them instead.”

Qin Hui Yin considered it, then understood.

The tutors’ care was sincere. If their family were rich, gifts would be courtesy. But for a struggling household, gifts would only create distance—like repayment instead of closeness. Tang Yi Chen’s bond with his tutors was closer to father and son than buyer and seller. The best answer sheet would speak louder than any basket of goods.

Third Master Tang drove Qin Hui Yin to the private school. When the tutors heard Tang Yi Chen had finally woken, their tense faces softened as if someone had lifted a weight off their shoulders.

Qin Hui Yin thanked them on Tang Yi Chen’s behalf and asked to borrow any books they could spare for him to review at home.

The tutors loaded the ox cart with everything they dared lend, old volumes wrapped in cloth so the pages wouldn’t tear. They insisted that if Tang Yi Chen didn’t understand something, someone should send word—they would come teach him at once.

Afterward, Qin Hui Yin returned to the pharmacy to gather the others and head back to the village. Tang Yi Chen couldn’t be jostled, so she bought unwanted dried straw and padded the ox cart until it was thick and springy. On top of it, she laid old cloth she’d picked up cheaply from a general store.

When they got home, she could stitch the cloth into bedsheets—waste not, want not.

Before leaving town, they stopped by the blacksmith. Just as Qin Hui Yin had predicted, the stall cart she’d ordered was finished. The custom shovel and pot were ready too.

They left in a small procession—ox cart creaking under borrowed books, new tools, and their exhausted bodies.

Tang Yi Chen lay ramrod straight, as if he weren’t on straw at all but on a bed fit for a wealthy household. His face was pale to the point of translucence, his lips nearly colorless. Whatever he’d endured, it had taken him to the edge.

Qin Hui Yin’s mind swarmed with questions, but with everyone around, she couldn’t ask. And looking at him now, she couldn’t believe he’d risk that kind of pain for an act. Who would gamble their life just to put on a performance?

Maybe she was thinking too much.

The road home was the familiar country path. After a day of running herself ragged, Qin Hui Yin finally let her body loosen. The cart rocked gently; her eyelids grew heavy. She leaned against Li Tao Hua’s shoulder without realizing it and fell asleep.

Li Tao Hua looked down at her and, for once, let the sharpness drain out of her face. She smoothed Qin Hui Yin’s hair with slow, absent strokes.

Lately, her daughter felt like a different person. If she hadn’t seen the birthmark herself, she might have wondered whether someone else had slipped into Qin Hui Yin’s skin.

Then she thought of Qin Hui Yin’s father—extraordinary and refined, the kind of man who didn’t belong to muddy fields and crowded huts. Of course his daughter would be sharp. Of course she would be capable.

Qin Hui Yin slept.

Tang Yi Chen opened his eyes.

He had just crawled back from a coma. How could he still be sleeping? He kept his eyes half-lidded anyway, pretending to doze. He didn’t want to meet Qin Hui Yin’s gaze—not yet.

That little miss was young, yet her eyes were too clear, too keen. It always felt like she could see through the skin of things straight to the bone. Like nothing he did could stay hidden from her for long.

In truth, what he’d done wasn’t grand. It had only been… persistent.

He went, again and again, to the physician who had taken Chen Zhong Yi’s silver and played accomplice. He pleaded, reasoned, pressured. The man refused each time—rude, frightened, greedy.

Tang Yi Chen tried Chen Zhong Yi’s trusted aide-attendant next. The man kept his mouth shut tight enough to choke on his own lies.

And the shop assistant who had stirred the whole mess from the start—once he’d become a minor steward and tasted the benefits, he was even less likely to betray Chen Zhong Yi.

For profit, they’d accused an innocent man with a clear conscience. For profit, they’d watched a family teeter on the edge and never cared whether it lived or died.

If that was the kind of world they chose to live in… why should he care whether they lived or died?

None of their hands were clean. All he had to do was dig, and their crimes surfaced on their own.

Besides, the Patrol Inspector Office had been watching Chen Zhong Yi for a long time. With Chen Zhong Yi’s habit of abusing power and harming people, it wasn’t hard to strike a bargain. They worked together, staged a trap, and uprooted the menace at the root.

Tang Yi Chen’s “self-sacrifice” dragged the matter back into the light. It forced open doors that had been shut for years and pulled out the rot Chen Zhong Yi had buried beneath them.

He hadn’t expected, though, that Chen Zhong Yi would die.