Chapter 138: Observing the Three-Year Mourning Period

"Grandmother, if he is not my father, then who is he?" Shen Qingyun stepped forward, gently supporting the Old Lady. She looked at Shen Zhifeng lying on the bed with a deeply sorrowful expression. "How could something like this happen so suddenly? Aunt Wang, you handle the arrangements. I will help Grandmother down to rest; she must be too heartbroken."

Upon catching Shen Qingyun's dark, piercing gaze, Wang Qingrui felt her heart skip a beat. Catching her meaning, she broke free from the restraints before the mama could notice and scrambled up from the floor. "Yes, the Old Lady is simply overcome with grief and has started rambling nonsense."

The Old Lady grabbed onto Shen Qingyun's arm in reverse, pulling her toward the bed. "Qingyun, look closely. Your father has a birthmark on his left hand. This is an impostor! Aunt Wang must have murdered your father and found someone like this to pass him off as the real one."

Appearing somewhat frightened, Shen Qingyun glanced briefly at the hand and coaxed the Old Lady, "Grandmother, isn't the birthmark right there? If Aunt Wang had found an impostor, why would she have killed him afterward? Oh, let me help you down to rest, and then we can talk about this slowly, alright?"

"No! That birthmark is fake! It's fake!"

Paying no heed to her continued protests, Shen Qingyun signaled Zhenzhu, and the two of them supported the Old Lady, attempting to lead her out of the room.

The mama was somewhat at a loss. In her eyes, the man on the bed was none other than Shen Zhifeng himself. Standing in place and watching the Old Lady like this, her eyes grew red; an elderly person losing a child—no wonder the Old Lady was beside herself.

Seeing that no one believed her, the Old Lady's lips trembled and tears streamed down her face. Catching a glimpse of Wang Qingrui standing nearby with a look of triumph, a blazing fury instantly ignited in her heart.

"Ah!"

With a piercing shriek from Wang Qingrui, the Old Lady suddenly lunged at her, seizing her by the neck with a fierce expression like a vengeful ghost demanding a life. "I am going to kill you, wicked woman, to avenge my son!"

"Quickly, pull the Old Lady away!"

Coming to her senses, Wang Qingrui reached out and yanked at the Old Lady's hair, sending it flying in disarray. Yet the Old Lady refused to let go, choking Wang Qingrui until her eyes rolled back.

At Shen Qingyun's sharp command, the surrounding servants finally snapped out of their daze and rushed forward to separate them.

With great difficulty, the two were pulled apart. Panting heavily and utterly exhausted, the Old Lady rolled her eyes and fainted, drawing gasps of alarm from the maids.

Working together in a flurry, the people carried the Old Lady away to rest. Aunt Wang sat on a nearby chair, clutching her neck with a lingering look of terror.

Dismissing the servants, Shen Qingyun stepped forward and asked Wang Qingrui, "Was it you who poisoned him?"

Clutching her face, Wang Qingrui shook her head. "Eldest Miss, it truly wasn't me. How could I possibly poison the Master to death? There is no benefit in that for me at all."

"Then what about Xiaoqiu?"

"Xiaoqiu..." Gritting her teeth, Wang Qingrui confessed, "I only wanted to drug the Old Lady so she would be bedridden. I didn't use any lethal poison that would kill! Miss, I really don't know what happened. When I heard the Master was dead, I was just as shocked."

Nodding to indicate she understood, Shen Qingyun sent a servant to deliver a pouch of silver to the estate physician. "I wonder how my father died?"

Weighing the heavy purse in his hand and looking at Shen Qingyun's cold expression, the physician paused for a moment before instantly grasping her meaning. "The Master suffered a sudden attack of heart ailment and could not be saved in time. It has nothing to do with anyone else."

Shen Qingyun smiled. Seeing this, the physician breathed a sigh of relief, bowed, prescribed a calming medicine for the Old Lady, and departed.

"Zhenzhu, prepare everything according to the proper protocol."

"Yes, Miss."

...

"Shen Zhifeng" was dead.

When this news spread, it shocked a great many people.

Hearing of it, Han Rou sat dazedly on the bed, her thoughts a mystery.

Mistaking her silence for grief, Mama Chen stepped forward to comfort her. "Miss, you have already divorced him. Dead or alive, he has nothing to do with us anymore."

In Mama Chen's eyes, this was simply retribution coming to the wicked.

"Rest assured, Mama." Han Rou smiled bitterly. "I am merely feeling a sense of sorrow at the impermanence of the world. Once a person dies, what do the love, hatred, money, and status of their lifetime amount to? All we can do is live our days in peace."

She was simply very worried about Qingyun, and suddenly longed to see Xiao Jue, to see him safe and sound.

A mourning hall was set up in the Duke's Mansion, draped all around with white fabrics. Some people came to offer condolences, though the majority merely held an attitude of watching a good show.

The Old Lady ran a high fever, remaining delirious and bedridden all day long. Regarding this, everyone expressed understanding; after all, it was a case of an older person burying someone younger, so no one paid it much mind.

On the surface, Wang Qingrui wept frequently as she attended to the Old Lady, personally feeding her medicine with an air of deep concern. In reality, watching the Old Lady drink the spiked medicinal broth every day brought her a sense of boundless joy.

Shen Qingyun did not interfere with these actions of hers, as she herself preferred to avoid any other disruptions during this period.

Wearing mourning garb, Shen Sisi knelt in the mourning hall and wept for a long time. Her grief was genuine, but at the same time, she felt a great sense of relief. Fortunately, she had already married Jiang Lin; otherwise, things would have been quite difficult.

Meanwhile, during this time, the real Shen Zhifeng and the Marquis of Jiang's wife were kept under watch in a courtyard in the countryside. Their food and clothing were provided on par with ordinary commoners. From initial hunger strikes and resistance, Shen Zhifeng was gradually forced to accept his reality.

Yet in just a short span of time, he had wasted away to a frightful degree. The dual blows to his mind and body were nearly unbearable, though the fact that the Marquis of Jiang's wife's belly was growing larger day by day offered a sliver of hope.

Such monumental news concerning the Duke's Mansion naturally had to be conveyed to him.

Shen Zhifeng was dumbfounded.

The fake one was dead, which meant that in the eyes of everyone, he was already a dead man. Even if he were to return to the Duke's Mansion now, he would likely never be able to properly reclaim his position as the Duke.

How laughable! How was he supposed to prove that he was truly himself?

Struck by this sudden blow, Shen Zhifeng fell into utter despair and promptly fell ill as well.

...

In a certain secluded place, Hanyu also received the news of "Shen Zhifeng's" passing. The hand with which he was bandaging a wound paused for a fraction of a second, and with a flick of his palm, a blast of wind struck the person kneeling nearby.

"You were the one who gave the order, weren't you? Why did you make such an arbitrary decision!"

Clutching his chest, the man broke into a violent fit of coughing. As he raised his head, he revealed himself to be none other than the former Hanfeng. "Master, I did it so you could have peace of mind. You were hesitating too long."

Dropping back to a half-kneel, he lowered his head and said, "As long as the Duke of Shen is dead, Miss Shen will be required to observe a three-year mourning period before she can marry. If we didn't act now, it would be too late for you regardless. Even without Prince Li, someone else would eventually marry Miss Shen. Your urgency—isn't it all because you want to return to her side as soon as possible?"

"You..." Hanyu sighed. "Very well, withdraw. I understand."