Chapter 82: Dying of Rage or Being Beaten to Death Won't Do—That's Far Too Easy

No, he still remembered a few years ago when he was just a greedy four or five-year-old child.

Back then, he had wanted to taste the pastries that the old woman made herself for his third uncle. After all, in his understanding, these were handmade by his grandmother and reserved only for his third uncle, the great general. The ingredients must have been the finest, and the taste, surely, would be beyond compare.

He had secretly stolen a piece, but before he could put it in his mouth, the old woman arrived in a single step and knocked it from his hands.

He still remembered the furious look on her face. That was when he realized that this grandmother, who appeared so kind to him, did not truly care for him at all. All these years, he had played the obedient and clever child before her, trying to please this damned old woman.

Now he wanted to see for himself—if he wanted to eat these pastries, could the wretched woman still stop him?

“Shanjun, you mustn’t eat that!” the old madam cried out in alarm.

A cold smile flickered in Chu Shanjun’s eyes. She begrudged him even a single pastry. All these years, his filial piety meant nothing to this old wretch. The more she tried to stop him, the more he was determined to eat.

Chu Shanjun deliberately placed the pastry into his mouth in front of the old madam, his eyes full of triumph. He even chewed fiercely, making a show of swallowing it in two or three bites.

Shen Zhao watched Chu Shanjun’s defiance, and for some reason, felt a secret joy. This wolf cub certainly had a ruthless streak—determined to drive the old woman to her grave.

The old madam clutched at her collar, her knuckles white and terrifying from the force of her grip. She wished she could pound her chest in grief; although she was angry at Chu Shanjun’s disrespect, he was still her own grandson.

“Shanjun!” the old madam cried again. He had always been her favorite. “Be good, listen to your grandmother, put the pastry down. Whatever kind you want, I’ll have the kitchen make it for you right away.” He was just a child, after all, and she thought she could placate him as she always had. She forced a gentle expression onto her face.

Chu Shanjun picked up another pastry. “This is exactly what I want. Are you distressed, old madam? Can’t bear to see me eat what you made? Hah, what right do you have to care? You’re not worthy. Just a lowly concubine, and you dare speak my name?”

The old madam choked on her words.

Shanjun was stabbing her in the heart with a knife.

She felt as if her heart was bleeding, swelling with pain.

Shen Zhao and Chu Mu exchanged glances, their emotions in turmoil. That old woman had only herself to blame for her wicked deeds. And this was only the beginning—the worst was yet to come.

Chu Shanjun carried the pastries to his father with a look of accomplishment. “Father, do try some. They really are delicious. No wonder we were never allowed to eat them. It must have taken a lot of effort and fine ingredients.”

Shen Zhao and Chu Mu both turned their eyes to Chu Renjie.

Chu Renjie, brimming with pride, picked up a piece of pastry and popped it into his mouth. He didn’t forget to take two more—one he stuffed into Chu Shanan’s mouth, and the other he gave to Lady Liu. He looked at the old madam provocatively, determined to make this venomous woman watch as his whole family enjoyed every last bite of her pastries.

Shen Zhao found this scene almost comical—it was the first time she’d seen anyone so thoroughly enjoy poison meant to cut off one’s lineage. She wondered, when the truth came out, would Chu’s second son and his father choke with rage?

The old madam’s eyes burned red as she watched the second family devour the plate of doctored pastries. She knew nothing she said would make the second son believe her. Thankfully, she’d always used only small doses—there shouldn’t be any grave harm.

When Chu Renjie finished the last pastry, he turned to the family doctor and the eldest son, who both lay on the ground. One was the venomous woman’s lover, the other her illegitimate child—if you wanted to hurt the venomous woman, you had to start with these two.

He pointed at them and sneered, “Chu Renqing—or should I call you Chen Renqing? Why don’t you both confess what really happened back then? Who harmed my mother?”

His gaze was fierce as he looked up at the old madam, finger pointing at her. “Was it this venomous woman?”

Shen Zhao almost wanted to applaud this white-eyed wolf. He truly was his mother’s son—stabbing his own mother with knives. Did he not notice how ghastly her face looked? Was he determined to drive her away?

The old madam’s mouth twisted, her body trembling with rage, suddenly going rigid.

“My lady…my lady, wake up!” her maidservant hurried to catch her.

Everyone rushed to look as the old madam rolled her eyes and slid from her chair.

A gust of wind brushed before Shen Zhao as Chu Mu strode forward and lifted the old madam up.

He pulled a golden hairpin from the old madam’s hair and stabbed it sharply into the philtrum beneath her nose. But he didn’t stop there—he quickly seized her hands and pricked each of her ten fingertips with the pin, squeezing blood from them.

He didn’t know if this would work, but desperate times called for desperate measures. He’d seen people on the verge of a stroke before, and this was how the doctors treated them—ten fingers connected to the heart.

Chu Mu pressed hard, showing no mercy, and the old madam let out a piercing scream.

Shen, that wretch, did she mean to torture her to death?

Seeing the old madam revive enough to scream, Chu Mu tossed the hairpin beside her indifferently. Since she hadn’t ended up paralyzed, she could bear it. This was only the beginning, after all.

He turned and strode toward Azhao.

His steely gaze swept over Chu Shanjun and Chu Shanan, who seemed eager to approach Azhao. He planted himself between Azhao and the Chu Renjie father and son, face cold.

“Are you trying to kill her with anger? If she dies, how do you ever expect to reclaim your true identities? A bunch of fools!”

Chu Renjie and his son stared wide-eyed at Chu Mu.

Did this wretch Shen not know what she was saying? How could she be so reckless and biting? Did she not know her place? What right did she have to mock them?

“Shen!” Chu Renjie raised his voice, about to explode.

“Shut up and stay away from me, or I’ll slap you,” Chu Mu snapped, restraining the urge to strike Chu Renjie as he drew near.

But something about Chu Renjie struck Chu Mu as familiar.

He studied Chu Renjie closely. In fact, Chu Renjie looked much like Chu Renqing. And, upon closer observation, Chu Renjie resembled the family doctor Chen even more—especially that aggravating face, the contours almost identical.

If Chu Renqing was the illegitimate child of the venomous woman and the family doctor, could it be that Chu Renjie wasn’t their father’s son either?

This realization filled Chu Mu with the urge to destroy the venomous woman on the spot.

Chu Renjie felt faint under Chu Mu’s glare. Shen’s eyes were too fierce—did she want to hit him again? Remembering the last beating, he shivered involuntarily.

A wise man keeps his distance from a shrew. He’d deal with her one day, but now was not the time. Restoring the second family’s status was the priority.

His eyes flashed with malice as he looked at Doctor Chen, cowering on the ground. He couldn’t beat Shen, but he could certainly deal with this adulterer.

It was the damn adulterer and the venomous woman who cost him his rightful place as the legitimate son of the Chu family. If not for those two vermin, he’d have soared with the help of his true mother and her powerful family.

The third brother had said it: that damn adulterer still had evidence, proof of the venomous woman’s status as a mere concubine, and of his true mother’s existence and his own legitimacy.

A forced confession—no, a little punishment would loosen that dog’s tongue.

“Third brother, I think that damn…Doctor Chen is a tough nut to crack. Even while being held by his wild…son, he’s still resisting. Why not give him a beating first, teach him a lesson? That way, he’ll be more willing to tell the truth during the interrogation.”