TRBDM -Chapter 3 Neglecting Xie Sheng

Wei Zhaorong let out a quiet sigh.

This foolish girl had always believed it was her own body that was at fault for her failure to conceive.

In truth, it was her precious eldest son who had the problem.

In their previous life, Xie Chuan and Dou Shuyao had originally shared a fairly harmonious relationship. But after Liu Yi’er became pregnant, Xie Chuan’s attitude toward Dou Shuyao changed drastically.

He dared to propose bringing Liu Yi’er into the household during the mourning period precisely because he was desperate to have a son of his own.

Unwilling to let her own grandson remain outside the residence, and finding Dou Shuyao displeasing in every way, Wei Zhaorong indulged Xie Chuan and allowed him to divorce his wife.

Only later did they discover that the son Liu Yi’er bore was not Xie Chuan’s child at all.

The marquis household had raised another man’s bastard for years. Liu Yi’er had swindled Xie Chuan out of most of the estate’s wealth, and before the scandal could be exposed, she fled with her son and her lover.

Xie Chuan became the laughingstock of all. From then on, he sank ever deeper into brothels and drink, indulging himself until he was hardly human anymore.

It was only at that time that Wei Zhaorong learned Xie Chuan suffered from an unmentionable ailment.

If Xie Chuan and Dou Shuyao had been able to have a child of their own, Dou Shuyao would not have been driven to suicide, and that venomous woman Liu Yi’er would never have set foot in the marquis household.

In the main hall, Dou Shuyao’s voice trembled violently.

“Mother, could you trust me just this once?”

Wei Zhaorong had always been strict with Dou Shuyao. She raised her voice and said, “Whether you’re capable or not will be clear once Imperial Physician Xiao examines you. What are you afraid of?”

Cold sweat beaded on Dou Shuyao’s forehead. Yet she had no choice but to agree, her heart pounding in terror.

If it was confirmed that she could not conceive, then the eldest young master taking Liu Yi’er into the household would be a certainty.

How could he be so muddleheaded? The old marquis had just passed away. According to the law, the household must observe three years of mourning—no marriages, no banquets. If the Emperor pursued the matter, the entire marquis household would be implicated.

Angered that Xie Chuan disregarded the greater picture, Dou Shuyao’s words inevitably came out sharp and cutting, which infuriated him so much that he ran straight to the old madam to complain.

The old madam had always been biased and never listened to her. As expected, she immediately seized upon Dou Shuyao’s childlessness as the issue.

With no other recourse, Dou Shuyao could only remain kneeling.

“Stop kneeling. Go back.”

Wei Zhaorong was tired. She wanted to sleep.

Dou Shuyao wished to argue further, but Nanny Qi shot her a glare, and she could only fall silent like a quail.

After Dou Shuyao left, the imposing air Wei Zhaorong had forced herself to maintain faded away.

Since the marquis household had declined, most of the servants had been dismissed. Wei Zhaorong now even had to prepare her own three daily meals.

The dignity and grandeur of the matriarch of the house surfaced only occasionally in her dreams.

Her body was extremely frail; at this moment, she could no longer hold on.

“Miss, let me help you back to your room to rest.”

Nanny Qi had served Wei Zhaorong since childhood. Even though Wei Zhaorong had long been married, when they were alone, she still habitually addressed her as “Miss.”

“Yes.”

In her previous life, Wei Zhaorong had suffered from smallpox for an entire month before dying miserably. The pain seemed to linger in her body still, causing phantom waves of agony.

Nanny Qi supported Wei Zhaorong into the room and gently removed the jeweled hairpins from her hair, careful not to tug at a single strand.

Through the bronze mirror, Wei Zhaorong watched Nanny Qi.

She had never married, remaining loyal to her all her life.

Sadly, her life was short.

After her second son, Xie Sheng, forcibly divided the family estate, he refused to see Wei Zhaorong again.

Longing desperately for her son, Wei Zhaorong brooded for many days, and in the depths of winter, she fell gravely ill.

Nanny Qi attended to her day and night, yet Wei Zhaorong’s illness waxed and waned, never truly cured.

Nanny Qi knew well that Wei Zhaorong’s sickness stemmed from lovesickness—if only she could see Xie Sheng, she would recover without medicine.

So, on a snowy day, Nanny Qi secretly went to the Xie residence to look for him, hiding it from Wei Zhaorong.

But Xie Sheng’s heart was made of iron. No matter how hard Nanny Qi knocked, he refused to have the door opened.

She waited until midnight. When no one came, she had no choice but to return home in dejection.

On the way back, the snow had made the road slick. Nanny Qi slipped and fell by the roadside.

It was late at night, the streets deserted. After her fall, she struggled helplessly on the ground—and in that bitter winter, she froze to death where she lay.

“Miss, don’t be angry. When Second Young Master returns later and you see him, you’ll feel happy again.”

Nanny Qi’s voice pulled Wei Zhaorong out of her memories.

Xie Sheng was born with a smiling face and was adept at reading people. His tongue was always sweet, constantly calling out “Mother, Mother,” until Wei Zhaorong favored this second son most dearly.

On top of that, he had passed the examinations and now served in the palace, bringing honor to the marquisate. Just as Nanny Qi said, the mere sight of him would lift Wei Zhaorong’s spirits.

But now she knew the truth—among all the sons in the marquis’s household, the most cold-hearted and ruthless was him.

Even before her death, he never once came to see her. What was there to expect from such an unfeeling, unfilial son?

Wei Zhaorong lay down on her bed and waved a hand. “If Xie Sheng comes, tell him I’m asleep. I will not see him.”

“Yes, Miss.”

That night, Wei Zhaorong slept uneasily.

She dreamed of her previous life—how she had fallen from the glorious Old Madam of the marquisate to a sickly old woman despised by all. The ups and downs of her life were steeped in bitterness at every turn.

When Wei Zhaorong opened her eyes and saw the exquisite silk canopy above her, she finally believed completely—she had been reborn.

Hearing movement, Nanny Qi came over.

“Miss, Second Young Master came. Seeing you asleep, he asked with concern whether you were feeling unwell and if a physician should be summoned. I conveyed your message, but he said he would wait in the front hall until you woke.”

Wei Zhaorong’s expression did not change. She knew Xie Sheng’s purpose.

His attentiveness—hovering around her day after day—had only one goal: the title.

Before the old marquis, Xie Bo’an, passed away, he had intended for the legitimate eldest son, Xie Chuan, to inherit the title.

But his condition worsened suddenly, and he died without leaving a single word behind.

The entire marquisate observed three years of mourning. Only after those three years could Xie Chuan inherit the title.

To Xie Sheng, this was heaven-sent opportunity.

For three years he schemed relentlessly, currying favor with Wei Zhaorong at every turn, hoping to replace Xie Chuan as heir.

Back then, Wei Zhaorong had tried to help. She had shamelessly mentioned it once before the Emperor—only to be scolded harshly.

“Old Madam Xie, have you grown senile? How is it that the older you get, the less you understand propriety? What are the laws and moral order of the state? You expect me to let your Mingde Marquisate defy the ancestral rules?”

As long as the legitimate eldest son lived, the title belonged to him.

If Xie Sheng had earned distinction through merit, perhaps it would be another matter—but he was merely a minor seventh-rank Palace Attendant Censor. On what grounds could he contend for the title?

From that moment on, the Emperor grew increasingly displeased with the Mingde Marquisate.

After three years of painstaking performance—fabricating the image of a filial son—Xie Sheng learned that Wei Zhaorong had failed to secure his advancement. He immediately turned hostile, demanding division of the family and severance of ties.

From that day until her death, Wei Zhaorong never saw him again.

Now, as Xie Sheng waited in the front hall, Wei Zhaorong simply instructed Nanny Qi to send him away.

Nanny Qi froze, sensing that Wei Zhaorong had changed. Yet as to how she had changed, she could not quite say.

“Miss, Second Young Master said he will not leave unless he sees you.”