By the time dinner ended, a sliver of the sunset still lingered on the horizon.
The bloodcurdling screams from the neighboring house had grown weaker. Leng Yirou, recalling how she had just shared afternoon tea with her friend yesterday, now saw that same friend groveling on the ground, kowtowing desperately to the emotionless soldiers. She could no longer hold herself back and began walking toward the greenhouse.
“Where is she going?” Leng Yiyao leisurely took the last sip of her soup before glancing at her older brother.
“She’s a girl. She can’t just sit here and ignore it,” he replied with a chuckle, his expression one of complete indifference.
Leng Yiyao thought to herself, Of course, she’s a girl—one of the country’s most famous socialites. If she stayed here acting cold and detached while the house next door was practically being razed to the ground, the gossip rags would have a field day with her tomorrow.
But something about Leng Chao’s words rubbed her the wrong way.
“Girls can’t ignore it?”
She had been sitting here the entire time—did that mean, in his eyes, she wasn’t even considered a girl?
Leng Yiyao scoffed and didn’t bother arguing. Instead, she simply stood up and followed along toward the greenhouse, indulging him.
He clearly wanted to observe what had become of their neighbors, dragging the women of the house along to make it seem like an act of neighborly concern. In reality, it was nothing more than an analysis of the situation. She didn’t even need to think too hard to figure out what was on his mind.
No wonder the old man stayed unmoved—he must have full confidence in his son’s ability.
Still, if the Leng family didn’t have enough cunning, the matters she planned to handle later would be even more difficult.
She lowered her gaze, glancing at the wound on her side, a meaningful expression flickering in her eyes.
Meanwhile, Leng Weiran took a cigar from the table and lit it slowly. Through the thin veil of smoke, he watched his younger daughter’s graceful departure, while the increasingly sharp cries from next door grated on his ears.
It wasn’t quite a fox mourning the death of a rabbit, but he couldn’t help thinking—if his youngest daughter hadn’t intervened today, their own household might have been in chaos right now, filled with wails and despair.
At that thought, his brows furrowed. Smash! With a loud crack, he flung the teapot beside him onto the ground.
The atmosphere in the living room grew even colder.
…
Unaware of their father’s outburst, the three siblings quickened their pace toward the neighboring estate.
The two houses were quite close—just a short walk through the greenery, and they reached the boundary between the properties. Since the families had maintained a friendly relationship and the area was known for its orderliness, both had opted for semi-open greenhouses instead of solid walls. But now, this openness meant that every horrifying detail of the neighboring household’s downfall was on full display.
The once-proud noblewoman was kneeling on the ground, clutching her three daughters. Their foreheads had been pressed against the ground so many times that their voices had gone completely hoarse. Their heads were swollen, bruised, and bloodied, with splinters mixed into their hair. If they walked out like this, they’d look no different from beggars or fugitives on the streets.
But the most harrowing sight was the master of the mansion himself—his flesh torn open by the whip, blood pooling beneath him. He curled up in a fetal position, hands covering his head, his entire body trembling. And yet, not a single sound escaped him.
“Auntie, are you all right? I… my brother and I came to see you,” Leng Yirou spoke cautiously, glancing at the soldiers to gauge their reaction. Seeing that they didn’t intervene, she finally dared to speak up.
The noblewoman was the first to notice their arrival. With a desperate sob, she crawled forward on her knees, dragging her daughters along. “Yirou, you’re here! Please, tell them! We are honest, law-abiding merchants—we would never do anything improper!”
She pulled her daughter’s hand forward, brushing aside her dishevelled hair, revealing her bruised and tear-streaked face. Desperate hope flickered in her eyes—hoping that, for the sake of their past friendship, Yirou would be able to save them…
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