Cheng Yi buried himself in his studies, his mind fixed on one goal: restoring his family's honor.
Madam Lui watched him from a distance, her chest swelling with pride. Though his visits to Yun Yuhua and her brothers had become rare, their warm greetings hinted at a bond that might one day deepen into something more profound.
But Hao Jian… he could not stand their closeness. Every smile Cheng Yi offered and every tender word shared with Madam Lui stoked a seething jealousy—a forbidden intimacy that festered like a wound.
Impatience gnawed at Hao Jian as progress remained slow. He needed Yun Yuhua's future secured, yet Cheng Yi's calm, measured demeanor left him restless—a hunger unmet, a fire unlit.
His fists clenched, nails biting into his palms. To the world, Madam Lui was a loving mother; to Hao Jian, she was an obstacle that must be removed.
"My son…" Madam Lui's gentle voice broke through his turbulent thoughts.
Cheng Yi entered, his smile radiant and his eyes warm. To him, Madam Lui was everything.
"Ma, I need to go to the palace for the local examination. I want to serve as a local official—to remain close to you," he announced, excitement lighting his tone.
Madam Lui chuckled as she caressed his cheek. "You're doing wonderfully, my son. But remember, don't outshine the other scholars."
Cheng Yi nodded, determination kindling in his eyes. "The noble man remains calm; the petty man frets. Ma, don't worry—I will stay true to myself."
Her smile deepened with pride. "The provincial examination is at year's end. Are you planning to take it?"
Cheng Yi paused, his gaze distant as he chose his words. "I don't want to be far from you, Ma. I need to stay here with you and Ba."
Her smile softened with devotion, though a shadow of Hao Jian's unspoken obsession lingered in the air. "Your waigong wanted you to take office in the palace. He doesn't want your talents to go unnoticed."
Cheng Yi hesitated. "Ma… I'll need time to think about it."
Understanding the turmoil in his eyes, Madam Lui whispered, "You're doing great, my son. When the time comes, come back with the woman you choose to marry."
Relief mingled with resolve as Cheng Yi replied, "Ma, I'm going out with my friends today. I'll be back before it gets too late. Don't worry about me."
Madam Lui nodded silently, knowing he needed his moment of joy.
Cheng Yi strolled through the quiet halls, changing into casual clothes as he prepared to meet his friends. Stepping outside, the cool spring air—rich with the scent of blossoms and the promise of an approaching storm—urged him to return before dusk.
Behind the Main Hall, Hao Jian lurked in the shadows. Merging with the darkness, his eyes narrowed in cold calculation as he fixed his gaze on Cheng Yi—the embodiment of a fragile innocence that infuriated him with its effortless beauty.
Oblivious to his silent watcher, Cheng Yi smiled. Yet, every joyful gesture only deepened Hao Jian's internal fury, his clenched fists a silent testament to his bitter resolve.
The atmosphere grew thick and oppressive, as if time itself held its breath, anticipating calamity.
"Hey!" Qian'ai's bright voice shattered the stillness, drawing an even wider smile from Cheng Yi.
"I have good news!" Cheng Yi declared, his excitement slicing through the tension.
Qian'ai grinned as Tian Ke approached, their smiles warm and inviting. "What news?" Tian Ke asked.
"I'm taking the examination to become a local official here!"
For a heartbeat, the room fell silent; then their grins spread wide as they embraced him, their joy filling the space. "We'll be waiting to hear about your success!" cheered Tian Ke, while Qian'ai added, "You'll do great!"
Cheng Yi stayed with his friends until evening, the hours slipping by unnoticed. As the sun dipped in hues of orange and red, he bade farewell and made his way home, light-hearted and content.
At home, he headed straight for Madam Lui's chambers, but before he could enter, Hao Jian appeared—abrupt and unwelcome.
The servants scrambled, presenting a chair for him beside Madam Lui. "What brings you here, Zhang fu?" she asked, her voice weary yet calm.
Hao Jian's tone was sharp, laced with hidden venom. "I'm here to dine with my wife and son. Is that a problem?"
The palpable tension thickened the air. Sensing discomfort, Cheng Yi smiled politely. "Chi fan le," he said, serving Madam Lui with his customary care.
Her smile returned, the warmth of his gesture easing the heaviness in her heart, while Hao Jian echoed a cold, distant "Chi fan le."
The meal stretched on in weighted silence. Cheng Yi's practiced hands moved deftly as he served, his quiet care becoming a small, comforting ritual. Then, without warning, Hao Jian reached for a dish and handed it to Madam Lui. She hesitated, her eyes narrowing before she bowed her head in thanks, concealing her unease behind polite courtesy.
After the meal, Madam Lui retired to her quarters with Cheng Yi at her side, his unwavering presence a silent comfort. The servants cleared the table, but Hao Jian lingered, his gaze fixated on the tender bond between mother and son.
Before leaving, he paused at the door, his eyes locking on them with a final, seething glance. A slow, unsettling smirk curled on his lips as his features hardened into something dark and sinister. His cold eyes were not on them, but on the bond they shared—a flame of warmth he despised and longed to extinguish.
In that silent moment, the oppressive air deepened. Hao Jian's smirk grew as he took one final, lingering glance—as if that look alone could obliterate everything. Then, with deliberate slowness, he turned on his heel and left, his footsteps echoing as the door clicked shut with ominous finality.
Later that night, Madam Lui awoke with a heavy unease. Moonlight spilled into the room as she stumbled from bed, a chill creeping along her skin. Her personal maid entered, attuned to the change.
"Madam, is everything alright?" the maid asked softly.
Madam Lui paused, staring blankly at the walls, her hands clenching unconsciously. "Something doesn't feel right after dinner…" she murmured.
The maid's eyebrow arched in quiet suspicion. "Are you referring to Master Lui? It was odd that he chose to dine with you, especially after… that incident."
"Shh…" Madam Lui hushed her, pressing a finger to her lips. "We don't have the evidence yet. If he discovers our investigation, it could cost us our lives."
The maid nodded solemnly. "Do you know who to trust, after all this?" she whispered.
Madam Lui's eyes narrowed as she scanned the dim room. "I believe the lady at the inn can be trusted. She despises Hao Jian deeply and will help when the time comes."
A hesitant murmur escaped the maid, "But she's not of noble blood…"
"There's something about her," Madam Lui replied, her voice dropping with unspoken truth. "How could she have taken in a child who appeared from nowhere? There's power behind her—something unseen. Father investigated her before but always reached a dead end. If anything happens to me, she's our best option. Gather the evidence and bring it to her."
Madam Lui sank back onto her bed, her body weary and her mind restless. The gnawing unease left no room for retreat, and as she closed her eyes, peace proved as fleeting as a shadow.
Her maid lingered at the bedside, eyes alert for any sign of movement. Outside, the night was still save for a distant murmur of nature and the rustle of leaves in a light wind. Within these walls, tension pressed down like an invisible weight, and the maid's face tightened with worry as she nodded gravely, understanding the looming danger.
Weeks later, the morning sun bathed the residence in a warm glow as Cheng Yi prepared to leave for the local examination. Dressed in his finest scholar's robes, he adjusted his sleeves and turned to his mother.
"Ma, I'll be back soon," he said, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek.
Madam Lui smiled, pride mingled with a quiet fear. "Go with confidence, my son. I will be waiting for your good news."
With a respectful bow, Cheng Yi stepped outside, his figure disappearing beyond the gates.
Madam Lui sighed quietly as she returned to her quarters, easing herself onto a cushioned seat. Her personal maid entered with a warm smile. "Young Lord has set off. You will soon hear of his success," she said, pouring tea into an elegant cup.
Madam Lui accepted the cup with a grateful nod, bringing it to her lips. At the first sip, a sharp pain pulsed in her temples; she groaned softly, pinching the bridge of her nose.
"Madam…" the maid said, concern lacing her voice.
"I'm fine, just a little dizzy," Madam Lui assured her, setting the teacup aside.
The maid quickly set down the teapot and helped her onto the bed. "You've been working too hard lately. Young Lord will return with good news, so rest easy."
A tired smile flickered across Madam Lui's lips. "You're right. Prepare his favorite meal before he returns."
The maid nodded eagerly. "At once, Madam." She hurried out, issuing swift orders to the kitchen. The staff moved with determined haste to prepare Cheng Yi's favorite dishes before midday.
Moments later, the maid returned carrying a bowl of fresh fruit. "Madam, I brought your favorite—" she began, then froze as the bowl slipped from her hands and crashed to the floor.
Madam Lui lay motionless on the ground.
"Madam!" the maid screamed, dropping to her knees and shaking her mistress. "Someone, help! Fetch a doctor!"
Servants rushed in, their footsteps pounding against the wooden floors. Some sprinted out in search of a physician, while others carefully lifted Madam Lui onto her bed. The peaceful morning shattered into chaos.
Meanwhile, at the examination hall, Cheng Yi set down his brush and exhaled slowly. Though the test's weight had eased, every answer replayed in his mind as he stepped outside into the warm midday sun.
At the entrance, a familiar servant stood stiffly—hands clenched, eyes darting anxiously among the passing scholars.
Cheng Yi approached with a tentative smile. "Did Mother send you to pick me up? I'm not a child anymore."
The servant's smile had vanished; worry etched deep lines on his face. "Madam fainted… She hasn't woken up since you left this morning."
In that instant, Cheng Yi's world tilted. His smile evaporated, and his arms fell limply. A surge of terror gripped him as his heart pounded like a desperate drum.
Without another word, he shoved past the crowd and sprinted through the bustling marketplace. Every breath was a desperate gasp as he weaved between merchants and startled pedestrians—the cacophony of shouts and clanging carts blurring into a frantic symphony.
Bursting through the entrance, he raced straight to his mother's room. His chest heaved as he froze in the doorway, the stark reality crashing down upon him.
At the bedside, Madam Lui's personal maid wept, her shoulders trembling. When she saw Cheng Yi, her sobs intensified, each cry echoing his own despair.
"I'm sorry… I didn't take good care of Madam… I only stepped away to tell the kitchen to prepare your meal, and when I returned, she had collapsed…" Her voice broke with unbearable guilt.
Cheng Yi barely registered her words. His gaze fixed on his mother's still form, a searing pain and dread overwhelming him. He dropped to his knees and crawled to her bedside, his hands trembling uncontrollably. "Is she… Is she okay?" he whispered, his voice quavering with anguish.
The doctor, seated at the table, set down his brush with a heavy sigh. "It appears Madam Lui has Qi deficiency. Her maid mentioned she was dizzy yesterday and fainted today. I believe she has overworked herself or is emotionally distressed."
Cheng Yi exhaled sharply, raw panic and sorrow surging through him. His mother had always been a pillar of strength, but now her fragility tore at his soul, leaving him overwhelmed by a terror that seemed to shatter the very air around him.