SGEIRS -Chapter 93 Chengyu’s Death

In the room, Meng Jinyao slowly unclenched her fists.

Her two pale, tender palms, tinged with light pink, bore several crescent-shaped marks.

The marks were dark red, the color of congealed blood. Her nails were stained with some of it too—proof of just how much force she had used to hurt herself with her own fingernails.

Meng Jinyao lowered her eyelids and glanced at them faintly, then looked away.

It did hurt, of course, but the pain made her feel… a little comforted.

She had three younger brothers in total. The third brother, Chengxing, was born to Madam Sun. Chengyu and Chengzhang were twins, born to the concubine maid Du.

When Concubine Du was pregnant with the twins, she claimed to have dreamt of giving birth to a pair of adorable girls. The servants in the mansion, seeing Concubine Du’s belly, also thought she was carrying two daughters.

Because of this, her father had no expectations for Concubine Du’s pregnancy. After all, he already had her and Meng Jinyu as daughters, and he wanted sons to carry on the family line. So he did not take Concubine Du as a concubine, thinking it likely she was carrying twin daughters.

Unexpectedly, Concubine Du gave birth to twin sons. Having two sons at once delighted her father immensely.

Because of the merit of giving birth to sons, Concubine Du was finally taken as a concubine and received a measure of her father’s favor. She was allowed to raise the children herself, and her visits to their quarters increased.

Looking back now, Concubine Du had been clever—otherwise, the twins might not have been born safely.

The twins looked exactly alike. Not only did her father adore them, but she did too. She treasured her two younger brothers above all, showing them any toys their grandfather gave her, playing with them and keeping them entertained.

Even when Madam Sun later gave birth to another brother—a plump little bundle—she liked him too. But her favorite remained the identical Chengyu and Chengzhang. With Chengxing’s birth, however, her father’s attention was divided; after all, the legitimate son outweighed the concubine’s children.

Chengyu and Chengzhang had learned to walk under her guidance. When they toddled unsteadily toward her, she felt a sense of achievement. She also taught them to speak, and the first words they uttered were “Big Sister.” The three siblings were often inseparable.

But happiness was short-lived.

When Chengyu was two, he fell ill and passed away. Following this, Concubine Du fell gravely ill from the grief of losing a child and eventually passed away as well.

Though Chengyu appeared to have died from illness, her grandmother believed she had “killed” him and wanted to confine her in the Buddhist hall to rid the household of bad luck. But she, heartbroken over her brother’s death, refused to go, insisting on staying by his side. Madam Sun pleaded on her behalf, sparing her the punishment of confinement.

Madam Sun had said, “A-Yao, don’t be afraid. Chengyu died from illness. Your grandmother only acted out of grief. Don’t blame her.”

At that time, Madam Sun had been genuinely gentle, and she had liked her stepmother dearly, relying on her completely. Until one day, she overheard Madam Sun speaking to a confidant:

“Too bad that concubine Du died so early, or I could have had a rival in the backyard to entertain me.”

The confidant replied, “Who would have thought that she would die along with her son? That maid-born wretch was truly unlucky; he wouldn’t have lived long.”

Madam Sun chuckled lightly: “But, we must thank that little brat Meng Jinyao. If she hadn’t been so fond of the twins, feeding them herself, I wouldn’t have solved my problem so easily. Tsk… born to harm her mother, then kill her brother—what a curse. Raised for several years, she finally served a purpose. She wasn’t raised in vain.”

The confidant flattered her: “Madam, that was brilliant—a two-birds, one-stone strategy.”

Hearing the words of the gentle, kind stepmother, her entire body froze, her mind went blank, and she shivered all over. She wanted to rush out and confront Madam Sun, asking why she had done such a thing, but then she realized that she was still a child. Who would believe her?

So she endured it, leaving like a living ghost, and reported the matter to her grandfather. But her grandfather, bedridden and weak, had no strength to deal with it.

Her grandfather said to her, “A-Yao, don’t cry. Don’t mention it again. Just pretend you never heard them say anything.”

She did not understand why her grandfather did not seek justice for her brother. Puzzled, she asked, “Grandfather, don’t you want to catch the bad people?”

Her grandfather’s eyes were dim, filled with tears. His voice choked: “Grandfather is old. I can’t catch the bad people. You’re still young. You can’t defeat them. Let the bad people have their fun for now, alright?”

She nodded, half understanding: “Then when can we catch the bad people?”

Grandfather answered, “When A-Yao has the strength—strength greater than the bad people—then you can catch them.”

Fearing she might act impulsively, he held her small hand and repeated over and over: “A-Yao, be good. A-Yao, wait a little longer. Our A-Yao is a good child. You won’t misbehave, right?”

She listened, and her grandfather, seeing her nod repeatedly, closed his eyes reluctantly, never to open them again.

That day, she learned the truth about Chengyu’s death. The grandfather who had cherished her forever left her.

And that same day, she seemed to have grown up all at once.

Yet she was still a child, not skilled at hiding emotions. In front of someone she hated deeply, her acting was poor, and her dislike of Madam Sun soon became obvious. Her attitude toward Madam Sun worsened, and the open and covert struggle between them began.

She was full of hatred.

She hated Madam Sun’s cruelty, and she hated herself.

Chengyu had been unruly, refusing to take his medicine. Even concubine Du could not force him. Every dose had been given by her own hands, coaxing him to drink it.

The medicine she spooned into Chengyu’s mouth—each spoonful was a life-ending poison. Every dose hastened his death. Though Madam Sun had schemed behind the scenes, it was she herself who had sent her brother to the underworld. That hurt her more than if he had been killed outright.

A borrowed knife, used to kill.

What a clever plot by Madam Sun.

She had used the close bond between the siblings. Since she administered the medicine herself, no one suspected a problem with it. No one thought Chengyu’s death was suspicious.

Everyone only said that Chengyu had died because of her “bad luck.” They believed that if she had stayed away, he might have survived. Even her grandmother and father believed it, and her grandmother feared her, thinking she might continue to bring misfortune.

Over the years, she had faithfully followed her grandfather’s dying advice, never revealing the truth. One, because she had to deal with Madam Sun just to survive; two, because she had no proof—empty words meant nothing.

Now she was married, having left the Yongchang household and become the wife of Marquis Changxing. Not even her natal family could touch her.

She thought that now she should have the strength—strength greater than the bad people—but so many years had passed, and all the clues had vanished. She didn’t even know where to begin the investigation.