Chapter 56: The Robe of a Stranger

When Chu Mu returned to the Grand General’s Mansion and had just stepped into his courtyard, he saw Nanny Liu, who always accompanied his mother, waiting for him. She stood in the middle of the courtyard, her face twisted with impatience.

The moment she saw him, a flicker of displeasure passed through her eyes, quickly replaced by a glint of something sharper. “Madam, dressed like this, whom did you sneak off to meet? You even came back wearing your lover’s robe—how shameless.”

Chu Mu’s face darkened. Was she blind? Could she not recognize that this was the robe he had worn in his youth? All these years, she had served at his mother’s side for more than a decade—over ten years! He stared hard at Nanny Liu. This cunning old servant, who had earned his mother’s trust through deception, could very well be the one who had drugged both him and A Zhao. The more he thought about it, the more likely it seemed. She was two-faced—one demeanor before his mother and him, quite another before A Zhao. He was determined to uncover her true nature and see that those behind her paid the price.

His gaze grew colder, making Nanny Liu shiver for no apparent reason. What was wrong with this wretched Shen woman? That look in her eyes was enough to make anyone’s skin crawl.

“The Old Madam has summoned you. Come quickly, and don’t keep her waiting,” Nanny Liu said, briskly passing Chu Mu as she made her way to the courtyard gate. What’s gotten into Shen today? That gaze of hers felt as if she wanted to see right through her.

Chu Mu glanced down at his dark robe. A Zhao had told him to avoid his mother, warning that if she saw him dressed like this, she’d kill him. He didn’t believe it. His mother was always kind and devout—how could she punish him over what he wore?

Besides, this robe meant something special to him. His mother wouldn’t be troubled by it. He’d prove to A Zhao that his mother wasn’t as cruel as she feared. Any misunderstanding his mother had of A Zhao was because she’d been misled by those around her. Once she saw A Zhao’s goodness, she would, just as he did, grow fond of her and treat her with kindness.

Turning from his courtyard, he walked toward his mother’s quarters. Along the way, servants cast him looks of shock and disbelief. Was it really so strange to wear a robe from his youth? Why should a woman not dress comfortably, instead of in those cumbersome gowns?

As he approached his mother’s courtyard, he heard a shrill scream from the central hall before he even entered. It sounded like his second sister-in-law.

Chu Mu sighed. His mother had always treated his second sister-in-law as her own daughter, but this time, she’d gone too far and wounded his mother’s compassion. Although his mother was kind, she was still human, with all the emotions that entailed. It was only natural she’d be angry. He trusted his mother wouldn’t truly torment her; given time, she’d forgive her, just as before.

With these thoughts, Chu Mu stepped inside, but before he could even set foot across the threshold, another wretched, agonized cry rang out. He frowned. Why was his second sister-in-law screaming so desperately? It didn’t make sense. Even when punishing A Zhao for a misunderstanding, his mother had only used a bamboo board on her hands or a harsh kick to the chest. Painful, yes, but not enough to warrant such screams. Perhaps his sister-in-law was putting on a show, hoping for his mother’s sympathy.

“Mother—” he began.

A sharp slap rang out.

“How dare you call me mother, you wretched woman! I’ve treated you so well, and how do you repay me? How dare you deceive me, make a fool of me, and ship all the Chu family’s property off to your own family? Did you ever consider Renjie, Shanjun, or Shan’an?”

His mother’s voice was unmistakable. Chu Mu realized what his second sister-in-law was suffering. She was likely being punished with a bamboo stick for her mouth. From his mother’s words, it was clear she was deeply disappointed in her, hence this severity.

Rounding the screen, Chu Mu’s eyes widened in shock at the scene before him. The woman kneeling on the floor, her feet bare, hair tied with coarse cloth, her body battered beyond recognition—was his second sister-in-law. Her hands were swollen and bruised to the size of steamed buns, her face so puffed and bloody it was unrecognizable, her mouth a mass of torn flesh still oozing blood, dripping onto the floor. Her arms were covered with crisscrossing bloody welts.

His mother held a rattan cane, and several people sat in chairs on either side: Shanjun, Shan’an, and Chu Miao. Shanjun and Shan’an seemed blind to their aunt’s suffering, their eyes filled with resentment and anger as they looked at her. She had always doted on the two brothers, pampering them endlessly. How could they now look on her with such hatred and calmly watch her being beaten like this?

His mother adored Shanjun and Shan’an, her two grandsons. Chu Mu believed that if only they pleaded for their aunt, his mother would never have beaten her so mercilessly.

Chu Mu frowned at the scene before him and spoke, “Greetings, Old Madam.” He had intended to call her Mother, but her mood was foul, and after her warning the day before, he thought better of it. His mother was getting older and couldn’t bear blow after blow.

“So, you all mean to rebel now? Someone, hold down Lady Shen!” The Old Madam’s anger nearly spilled over when she saw Chu Mu dressed in a man’s robe.

Lady Shen had done this on purpose—deliberately wearing a man’s robe to see her, to provoke her. Did Shen think that, after a small victory yesterday, she could defy her?

Chu Mu was stunned. As the maids and matrons surrounded him, for once he did not resist and allowed two burly matrons to force him to his knees in the hall. What had he done to make his mother so furious?

“Old Madam, what have I done wrong?” he asked.

If he hadn’t spoken, it might have been better. His question only fueled her anger.

“Shen, who gave you the nerve to wear your lover’s robe in my house? Do you think the Chu family is so easily mocked? As the wife of Mu’er, mistress of the Grand General’s Mansion, do you have no shame? You don’t even bother to hide it—parading about in another man’s robe for all to see.”

A flash of pain crossed Chu Mu’s eyes. The robe he wore was one his mother had sewn for him with her own hands. Had she forgotten?

Back when he was a young officer, returning with the army after a victorious campaign—having taken the enemy general’s head—he was awarded by the emperor. His mother, to celebrate, had stayed up all night to sew this robe for him. Though he hadn’t seen her by lamplight, stitching each seam, he could imagine the scene, her devotion in every stitch. He cherished this robe deeply; it was a token of her love.

Was it simply that his mother, now aged, had forgotten this robe she’d made for him, and so mistook it for another man’s? Surely, her memory had failed her, leading to this misunderstanding.

He opened his mouth to explain: