TRBDM -Chapter 4 Going to See Xie Lan

Wei Zhaorong leisurely rolled the Buddhist prayer beads between her fingers. “Then let him wait.”

In the front hall, Xie Sheng was pacing anxiously back and forth.

Every so often, he would ask a maid whether his mother had gotten up yet, and each time the answer was no.

It was almost time for dinner, yet Wei Zhaorong still had not appeared.

Unable to wait any longer, Xie Sheng went straight to the door of Wei Zhaorong’s bedchamber.

Wei Zhaorong was seated before a bronze mirror while Nanny Qi arranged her hair.

In the mirror, she looked ten years younger. Her hair had not yet turned completely gray—only a few silver strands were hidden among the black.

Gazing at her reflection, Wei Zhaorong felt a surge of emotion.

The Marquis of Mingde’s estate had flourished for decades; it must not decline in her hands.

She had long understood that her fate was bound to that of the marquisate—if it prospered, she prospered; if it fell, she fell with it.

Only by bringing glory to the marquisate could she remain forever the most honored mistress of the household.

Just then, Xie Sheng’s voice sounded from outside.

“Mother, how are you feeling? Do you need your son to call a physician?”

Nanny Qi had never seen the Second Master treated with such cold indifference before and could not help feeling a little anxious for him.

“Madam, the Second Master hasn’t left. He’s still waiting outside.”

“I’m not deaf—I heard him. I’m perfectly fine. Yet the moment he returns, he’s already cursing me.”

“…”

Nanny Qi had been about to explain on Xie Sheng’s behalf, but after thinking it over, she kept silent.

The Old Madam had always had her own mind. If she spoke like this today, then the Second Master must have done something to displease her.

Xie Sheng waited outside for a long time, his legs growing sore, before Wei Zhaorong’s door finally opened.

“Mother, you’ve finally come out.” Xie Sheng’s eyes lit up as he hurried forward to support her arm.

Seeing this, Nanny Qi tactfully stepped back two paces.

Xie Sheng looked at Wei Zhaorong with concern written all over his face. “You frightened your son. I thought you were unwell. Now that I see you’re fine, I’m relieved.”

Wei Zhaorong gave her “filial” second son a smile that did not reach her eyes. “You’re in such a hurry to see me. What is it?”

“Your son returned from duty and came straight away to pay his respects. When I couldn’t see you, my heart felt uneasy.”

Xie Sheng’s lie was delivered with utmost sincerity. Coupled with his expression, he truly looked like an unparalleled paragon of filial devotion.

Wei Zhaorong showed nothing on her face as she waited for him to reveal the real reason he had lingered so late.

Though Xie Sheng might be addicted to playing the devoted son, he would not wait several hours for nothing.

Today, he must have something important to discuss with her.

“It’s late. Let’s have dinner first.”

“Yes, of course. I’ll dine here with you tonight.”

Xie Sheng shamelessly planted himself there.

What an eyesore. Just looking at him made Wei Zhaorong’s eyes ache. If they actually sat down to eat together, she might very well throw up last night’s meal.

Wei Zhaorong wiped her hands with a handkerchief. “If you have something to say, say it. Then return to your own courtyard to eat.”

At her words, Xie Sheng immediately sensed something subtle.

Something was off. His mother seemed especially cold toward him today.

Xie Sheng thought it over. What he had been doing outside the estate was extremely well concealed—there was no way his mother could know.

Then what was the reason?

But there was no time to dwell on it. He had waited here for several hours for a reason—there was indeed something urgent.

“Mother, do you remember Editor Zhang?”

Wei Zhaorong, of course, remembered. Zhang Xiuzhuan held a sixth-rank official post and was a close friend of Xie Sheng.

“What happened?”

“This afternoon, for some reason, Xie Lan ran into Zhang Xiuzhuan’s carriage. Zhang Xiuzhuan was willing to let it go, but Xie Lan suffered a minor injury and refused to back down, insisting on reporting it to the authorities. I tried to persuade him out of goodwill, but he wouldn’t even give me face. Mother, if such a trivial matter really gets taken to court, where will the Marquis Manor’s dignity be?”

Wei Zhaorong rolled her prayer beads, her expression indifferent. “You were in the carriage at the time as well, weren’t you? Afraid that if Xie Lan makes it to the authorities, Zhang Xiuzhuan will implicate you.”

Xie Sheng was stunned!

How did Mother know? He and Zhang Xiuzhuan had clearly agreed that no matter what happened, they would never mention that he had been inside the carriage.

“Mother, why would you say that? This matter has nothing to do with your son. I was merely standing up for a friend and considering the honor of our Marquis Manor…”

“We’ll set that aside for now. Come with me to see Xie Lan.”

The false smile on Xie Sheng’s face froze.

“Why see him? Mother, it’s already dark, and you haven’t had dinner yet. Once you’ve eaten, you can simply summon him to come see you.”

In the Marquis Manor, Xie Lan was someone everyone could bully. Because he bore an uncanny resemblance to his ill-fated birth mother, Wei Zhaorong despised him deeply.

Though he was nominally raised under Wei Zhaorong’s name, she had never once personally educated or cared for him. Like a weed, Xie Lan struggled to survive in the devouring environment of the manor.

In her previous life, after being struck by Zhang Xiuzhuan’s carriage, he had likewise insisted on reporting the matter to the authorities. But Wei Zhaorong had dismissed him with a single remark—“This child harbors ill intent and is vindictive”—and had him locked in a side courtyard for several days and nights.

After that, Xie Lan grew even more silent. No matter how his two elder brothers bullied him, he never resisted.

Once the Marquis finished his mourning period, Xie Lan moved out of the manor at an early age.

Wei Zhaorong had guarded against Xie Lan her entire life. Yet after her death, it was he who ensured she received a grand funeral.

Given a second chance at life, Wei Zhaorong resolved to nurture Xie Lan properly. In the entire Marquis Manor, in terms of talent and character, only he could truly shoulder the responsibility of bringing honor to the family name.

As for her two troublesome biological sons—they were nothing but debts sent by Heaven to collect what she owed.

Ignoring Xie Sheng, Wei Zhaorong walked straight toward the rear courtyard.

Xie Lan had no courtyard of his own. Like the manor’s servants, he lived in the back.

The rear courtyard was an entirely different world from the rest of the manor.

Dilapidated. Old. Cramped.

Xie Sheng, who always fancied himself a refined scholar and cared deeply about appearances, could not help covering his nose in disgust. “Mother, it’s filthy here. Why does it smell?”

The odor came from the stables; the rear courtyard was adjacent to the horse sheds.

Even Nanny Qi frowned, but Wei Zhaorong remained calm, as though she smelled nothing at all.

After contracting smallpox, she had lived in the miscellaneous courtyard for an entire month—her body incontinent, her skin rotting. That stench had been hellish beyond endurance.

Compared to that, what was a mere smell of horse manure?

Nanny Qi lifted the lantern, carefully lighting the path beneath Wei Zhaorong’s feet.

Ten years younger now, Wei Zhaorong’s body was healthy, her complexion rosy, her legs strong. She felt clear-headed and refreshed.

Soon, the three of them arrived outside Xie Lan’s room.

Inside, there was only a dim lamp, faint as a firefly the size of a bean.

From outside, Nanny Qi called, “Third Young Master, the Old Madam has come.”

Hurried sounds came from within, and the door creaked open.

Xie Lan kept his head lowered, half his body hidden behind the doorframe.

“Mother, Second Brother, why have you come?”

His voice was quiet, his gaze fixed on the ground. He did not meet their eyes.

Wei Zhaorong looked at the thin, bony Xie Lan, her long brows drawing together in a slight frown. How had he become so gaunt?

Unlike the Xie Lan she had seen before her death, he was still just a half-grown child—short, frail, and too weak to truss a chicken.

Whenever he saw her, it was as if he were seeing a demon, never daring to raise his eyes.

What sins she had committed in her previous life.

Heart aching, Wei Zhaorong reached out a hand toward him.

“Come out. Let your mother take a look at you.”