Chapter 77 The Death of Shen Minglei

Because of the turmoil of recent days, Princess Jing’an had grown noticeably thinner. Her chin was sharper, her complexion pale, but she remained strikingly beautiful. The sharpness and pride that once defined her had faded, replaced by a fragile softness that made her even more pitiable.

Shen Minglei felt his heart lighten somewhat. Such a beauty, a princess no less, had become his wife. He swallowed, his eyes tinged with desire, feeling parched. “Princess, let me help you take off your clothes.”

Princess Jing’an gazed at Shen Minglei’s face and suddenly asked, “Do you know Shen Qingyun?”

The abrupt question caught Shen Minglei off guard. “Yes, I’ve met her once at the Minister’s residence. Princess, don’t think about irrelevant people. The night is precious. Let’s sleep soon.”

With that, Shen Minglei embraced Princess Jing’an and began to remove her wedding attire.

In that moment, unbearable memories surged through Princess Jing’an’s mind. The words “Minister’s residence” stabbed at her, igniting a fierce headache. Those filthy hands of beggars, their foul breath, the lewd taunts, even the pain in her body—all flooded over her like a tide.

Suddenly, Princess Jing’an snatched a sharp dagger from beneath her pillow and, in a flash, plunged it precisely into Shen Minglei’s heart.

“Hahaha! For plotting against me, you’ll die a wretched death. None of you will have good endings!” Princess Jing’an’s eyes widened, her expression manic.

Shen Minglei hadn’t expected such a sudden turn. Clutching the dagger in disbelief, he slowly sank to his knees.

“Jing’an… why…?”

Princess Jing’an crouched down and pressed the dagger deeper. Blood splashed across her face. Shen Minglei writhed in agony like an insect pinned to the ground, powerless to struggle.

“I won’t let you succeed. How dare you plot against me? How dare you all! I’ll kill Shen Qingyun right now!”

In a daze, Princess Jing’an staggered outside. The screams and hurried footsteps of maids immediately rang out.

Shen Minglei watched her retreating figure, his mind growing ever dimmer. He could not believe his beautiful dream had shattered so violently.

As his consciousness faded, he seemed to see Yue Niang welcomed into the Duke’s residence as the legitimate wife, himself acknowledged and restored as the eldest young master of the Duke’s household. He entered the court from the academy and married a gentle noblewoman.

Shen Minglei died.

When the news reached the Duke’s residence, Shen Qingyun was not surprised in the least.

Under Prince Li’s arrangements, Princess Jing’an believed Shen Minglei and Shen Qingyun had conspired against her, intending to marry her after ruining her reputation.

When she discovered it was Shen Minglei who spread the news of her disgrace, Princess Jing’an’s conviction deepened.

Already on the verge of emotional collapse, she dragged Shen Minglei down a path of no return.

Now, the Imperial Princess suppressed the matter, locked Princess Jing’an in the Princess’s residence, and assigned many maids and matrons to watch over her, fearing she might cause further trouble.

Shen Zhifeng learned of the incident and seemed to quiet down. He no longer visited the Warm Jade Pavilion to feign affection with Lady Han, instead shutting himself in his study all day, lost in thought.

With Shen Zhifeng out of the way, Shen Qingyun took Lady Han out one afternoon, arriving at one of her own small villas.

“Qingyun, who are you taking me to meet? Why so mysterious?” Lady Han felt uneasy.

Shen Qingyun opened the door. Inside sat a woman, her hair simply pinned up with a wooden hairpin, her face bare of any powder, looking much older.

Lady Han gasped. “Yue Niang? Why is she here? Qingyun, what is this?”

Shen Qingyun spoke frankly. “I saved her. I placed her here hoping you, Mother, would speak with her yourself, to hear what she and Father have been doing all these years.”

Lady Han’s face paled further. She stared at Yue Niang, who sat obediently, utterly confused by the sudden turn of events.

Yue Niang gave a wan smile. “Miss Shen, Lady Han, ask whatever you wish—I will answer everything.”

After all that had happened, and learning of Shen Minglei's death, Yue Niang felt her world was hopeless, merely dragging out a miserable existence.

Shen Zhifeng wanted to kill her; since she had survived, she would not let him have peace!

Shen Qingyun pulled Lady Han down to sit, leisurely pouring tea for the three of them, signaling Yue Niang to speak freely.

Yue Niang accepted the tea, a tear slipping from the corner of her eye. “I am not some friend’s wife. I am the woman he kept outside, bearing him a son and a daughter.”

There was no need to clarify who “he” was.

Lady Han bit her lip, her breath quickening as she stared at Yue Niang.

Yue Niang’s smile was uglier than crying. “Lady Han, perhaps you don’t know. On the second day of your wedding, he was not drinking with friends—he was with me, very happy, because I had just learned we were expecting our first child.”

Those days were happy; he would spare much time for her. When the child was born, he was regretful, feeling guilty, vowing never to let her or her children suffer, promising their son would one day become the rightful heir of the Duke’s household.

Later, they had a second child, just as Lady Han became pregnant. He said even heaven was helping them.

“Lady Han, do you know why you were so weak after giving birth? He drugged you, to swap your child with mine.”

Lady Han could no longer restrain herself. She stood abruptly, lips trembling, nails digging into her palms until they bled, her voice hoarse: “What do you mean, swap your child?”

Yue Niang raised her face, smiling, a gleam of satisfaction in her eyes. “The child you raised for over ten years, Shen Sisi, is the daughter I bore with the Duke.”

She had once hoped to rely on Shen Sisi, but Shen Sisi had scorned her, severing all ties. So Yue Niang no longer acknowledged her as a daughter.

Lady Han felt dizzy, nearly collapsing back into her seat, clinging to the table and retching.

Shen Qingyun worriedly patted her back. “Mother, are you alright?”

Yue Niang laughed. “Miss Shen, don’t worry—it won’t be pregnancy. The Duke said he has been putting cold-natured herbs in your tonics for years. You will likely never bear children again.”

Shen Qingyun’s heart sank. No wonder, despite all her examinations, Lady Han only appeared weak and cold, never able to conceive.

Shen Zhifeng was truly ruthless, plotting for years.

“Mother, divorce him!” Shen Qingyun could not help but plead.

Lady Han wept, stunned, unable to believe the man beside her could be so cold and heartless.

After a long silence, she slowly shook her head. “Qingyun, I will not divorce him.”

“Mother!” Shen Qingyun cried out in disbelief. “Why? After all this, do you still care for that bastard?”