Chapter 69 The Master of the Nameless Tablet in the Small Ancestral Hall

Shen Zhao could not be bothered to look at Chu Mu’s hurt expression. “Alright, enough of your self-pity. I call you foolish and you act aggrieved? If you have business to attend to, hurry up. I have other important matters to discuss with you soon.”

She had decided to first tell Chu Mu the news that Lin Jiaojiao’s eldest brother was still alive. After all, she would need Chu Mu’s help with what she planned to do next. She also wanted to consult with him about securing housing for the four thousand Northwest soldiers, and discuss their next steps thoroughly. She had made quite a few enemies by now—she needed to be prepared, lest she become an innocent casualty.

Lin Song had told her that many of the Northwest soldiers had been scattered into other camps. It was easy to imagine that their fates had been no better. These men had all once served under her father and brother; she intended to rally them together again.

But most importantly, she could not contact her father and brother herself—she would have to ask Chu Mu to write a letter to them in her name. This put her in a passive position, forced to reveal her intentions to Chu Mu about vindicating her family.

The more Shen Zhao thought about these things, the more vexed she became, her brows knitting together.

Chu Mu, unaware of her thoughts, could only see Ah Zhao’s dark, sword-like brows so furrowed they almost met. Unconsciously, he lifted his slender, fair hand and gently smoothed her brow. “Ah Zhao, don’t worry about me. I can bear this blow.”

Shen Zhao rolled her eyes inwardly—this man was being sentimental again. Did he honestly think she was fretting over whether he could handle it? With the way the Chu family treated him, he should be glad that wicked old woman wasn’t truly his mother, that the second branch, always leeching from him, wasn’t actually his blood brother. She could hardly wait for the day Chu Mu’s true identity was revealed and both the old crone and that lecherous wastrel were thrown out of the general’s manor.

The thought eased Shen Zhao’s expression. Chu Mu, seeing her relax, felt a warmth bloom in his chest. Ah Zhao was always worrying herself sick for his sake—thankfully, he would have the chance to make it up to her in the future.

“Ah Zhao, eldest brother must already know I am not of the Chu bloodline. It was reckless of me earlier, forgetting that we have switched bodies and rushing to seek confirmation from him.”

Shen Zhao was speechless—so he did realize he’d been reckless. Was he so eager to inform the world they had swapped bodies?

“Ah Zhao, come with me to see eldest brother. Earlier in the old madam’s quarters, he said many things with hidden meanings…” Chu Mu recounted Chu Renqing’s words to Shen Zhao, and as she listened, her thoughts drifted to the small ancestral hall in the remote wing—and the nameless memorial tablet that the old woman had smashed three times.

The meaning in eldest Chu’s words was clear. The old woman had lived a life of luxury as the matron of the general’s manor by usurping someone else’s place—obviously, that someone was Chu Mu’s true mother.

If her guesses were correct, the nameless tablet she had so often been made to kneel before was likely Chu Mu’s birth mother. Furthermore, the old woman visited that little shrine on the sixth day of the third month every year without fail. That day was most probably the anniversary of Chu Mu’s mother’s death.

Perhaps she could use this to persuade eldest Chu to reveal what happened all those years ago.

She remembered the first time the old woman smashed the tablet before her eyes—it was just after she’d married into the general’s manor, punished to kneel in the little ancestral hall while the old woman shattered the nameless tablet right in front of her. The second time was the first year she and Chu Mu had started sleeping in separate rooms—again, the sixth of the third month, and again the tablet was smashed during her punishment. The third time had been this year, on the same date.

Each time, the old woman’s gaze upon the tablet had been filled with venomous hatred.

She hadn’t known before who the tablet belonged to, nor what longstanding grudge existed between that person and the old woman—why even in death, the deceased could not rest in peace, their memorial smashed year after year. Now, she understood.

She’d even suspected that the old woman’s devotion to Buddhism was out of fear for her own sins, terrified that after death she’d suffer in hell. In life, she repented before the Bodhisattva, for she was truly wicked—she could not even leave the dead in peace.

Shen Zhao did not share her thoughts with Chu Mu, instead walking shoulder to shoulder with him toward eldest Chu’s courtyard. Along the way, she couldn’t help but marvel at how blind Chu Mu had been all these years, never seeing the old woman’s blatant favoritism.

The best courtyard in the estate belonged to second Chu; the second best to the old madam; then came eldest Chu’s quarters. Though the general’s manor was not extravagant, it was lavish in its own way, boasting artificial lakes, pavilions, towers, and gardens. The courtyard where she and Chu Mu had lived after their marriage wasn’t out of place, but it did feel desolate. After they’d started sleeping apart, her Eastern Court felt like it had been carved out as an afterthought.

The rest of the Chu family seemed more like the true masters of the manor. Not only was Chu Mu’s living situation the worst, his clothing and meals were far inferior as well.

As they walked, the servants they passed bowed in greeting from afar—something they’d never done before. Clearly, they’d been intimidated by Shen Zhao’s recent decisive actions. The general was not what he once was; he had just dismissed two old servants who’d worked for decades in the Chu household.

Rumors were already spreading that the lady of the house was regaining favor, and that those who had previously slighted her had been reported to the general, who now kept a careful tally. Only yesterday, the general had punished an old nurse who used to torment the lady—a woman from the old madam’s own quarters.

And today, the general had dismissed two more nurses. Though it was said to be for disrespecting the senior madam and her daughter, who knew if it wasn’t just an excuse for the general to avenge his wife? After all, everyone had heard how those women had abused her.

Chu Mu paid no mind to the servants’ unusual behavior, but Shen Zhao saw their newfound caution and sneered inwardly. These people needed to be disciplined—the kinder you were, the more they disregarded you. Show a stern face, and suddenly they were afraid to their very bones.

As soon as they stepped into eldest Chu’s courtyard, the sound of porcelain shattering reached their ears, followed by the sobs of Madam Zheng and her daughter.

Shen Zhao and Chu Mu exchanged a glance and quickened their pace. The servants in the courtyard immediately bowed low.

“Greetings to the general, greetings to the lady.”

At the sound of their greetings, the weeping inside the house abruptly ceased. Moments later, the tightly closed door was opened from within, and Madam Zheng and Chu Miao emerged, their eyes red-rimmed.

Shen Zhao’s gaze grew cold.

Chu Miao choked out, “Third Uncle.”

Madam Zheng forced a smile, her reddened eyes lending her a look of pitiable strength. Her voice was hoarse as she said, “Third brother, sister-in-law, you are here. Please, come in and sit.” She instructed the servants, “Serve tea and refreshments.”

She descended the steps, her face warm and amiable as she approached Chu Mu, reaching out to take his hand. But as soon as she did, his wife swiftly drew her hands into her sleeves, instinctively stepping back and hiding behind Chu Mu.

Most telling of all, Chu Mu shifted his stance, placing himself squarely in front of Shen Zhao.

Madam Zheng’s smile froze—did they think she was some kind of monster?