My Enemy Became My Cultivation Companion
Chapter 139 - 119: Stealing Half a Face (Extra 2-in-1)

Chapter 139: Chapter 119: Stealing Half a Face (Extra 2-in-1)

This day passed quickly, and the fifth day since returning from the underground palace arrived.

There was no rain today. Xiuhe reported to her that there had been a ferocious quarrel in the main hall last night. The second and third branches of the family were demanding that the chief branch change their surname back from Lin to their original family name, Cui, in order to distance themselves from the Lin Party. However, Lin Bu of the chief branch refused to agree under any circumstances. Even bringing forth their deceased father’s teachings had no effect. The commotion eventually reached their matriarch, but nothing had been decided yet.

Currently, the Prince of Annan is away from the capital, so it is unwise for chaos to erupt in the court. As such, even though some officials have presented memorials accusing Lin Yan and others of treason, the empress dowager’s ill health has been used as an excuse to keep the memorials suppressed in the Chief of Staff’s office.

Rumors abound in the streets that the crime of treason requires the execution of nine generations, yet truly, cases of such punishment throughout history are rare, countable on one hand. Besides, the laws of Great Yu are lenient. According to "The Laws of Great Yu," for treason or great rebellion, the perpetrators—whether masterminds or accomplices—are to be executed; their fathers and sons over sixteen years of age are to be hanged; those guilty of severe crimes have their mothers, wives, concubines, and children under fifteen punished by demotion to servile status.

Now, whispers have circulated about leniency in handling the matter. Heavy punishment is unlikely, and the families by marriage are not expected to be implicated. Thus, the second and third branches seek to seize this opportunity to change their surname, aiming for an early escape and a fresh start elsewhere.

It had long been anticipated—when the tree falls, the monkeys scatter—but if, back then, that West Factory Thousand Households officer had spared Lin Yan’s life, there might still have been room for maneuver. Lin Wanxiao couldn’t stop thinking about it. But life doesn’t deal in "ifs." The relentless currents of that underground river carried Lin Yan’s corpse away entirely.

As for her, even if Lin Yan’s treason condemned her to servile status, she was determined to remain a widow. At worst, she could end things with the white silk of a hanging. That way, she would preserve her purity both in life and in death.

The weather was fine. Though still chilly, the sunlight was warm and gentle as it shone upon the deep courtyard—uncertain whether it belonged to the Lin Family or the Cui Family. The gardened estate carried an unseasonal hint of spring. Xiuhe brought her an assortment of cloth in different colors for her embroidery work. It was only the fifth day of her widowhood, yet Lin Wanxiao already felt a fog of loneliness settling in.

The thought of spending a lifetime embroidering, like a wandering ghost existing in an almost unvisited wing of the estate, filled Lin Wanxiao with an inexplicable dread.

According to the laws of Great Yu, widows were required to mourn for three years; after which, remarrying would be permissible. But gossip often disregarded legal stipulations. In scholarly families, widows generally mourned for life. The husband could remarry, but there was no text permitting the wife to do the same!

Lin Wanxiao’s hands and feet turned icy cold as her mind wandered to that man’s face. She used to call him "Uncle." But what came of that in the end? The splattering sound of blood filled her ears, rendering her dizzy.

Xiuhe hurriedly leaned close, poised to say something, but Lin Wanxiao suddenly muttered neurotically:

"Xiuhe, how does one go about hiring someone... to kill?"

"Madam, are you intending... to hire an assassin?"

Xiuhe blurted out, only to hurriedly add:

"Absolutely not! And, Madam—who is it you want to kill?"

The sound of Xiuhe’s voice brought Lin Wanxiao back to her senses. She gave a bitter smile and shook her head, instructing Xiuhe to fetch some needles and thread, then began her embroidery.

Worried that she was bored, Xiuhe brought out a copy of "The Peony Pavilion" and offered to read it to her. Xiuhe used to serve as Lin Wanxiao’s companion and study maid; though not widely read, she was literate.

"The Peony Pavilion" is a famous Kunqu opera, recounting the dreamlike love story between the noble maiden Du Liniang and the scholar Liu Mengmei.

Xiuhe read from the tenth act—"The Dream Awakens"—which is the most celebrated and beloved part. It depicts Du Liniang’s youthful sorrow, as she, despite awakening to passion, remains cloistered. So, she wanders into the garden, where she encounters the scholar.

"The dream returns, orioles sing. Time scatters like blossoms. She stands alone in a deep courtyard..."

At first, Lin Wanxiao intended to listen attentively. But before the act was even halfway through, she found herself itch with an urge to see a performance. In the past, the Lin Family’s estate had its own private Kunqu troupe—she could summon them to perform without even leaving the house. Alas, those days are gone. Even now, if she wished to see opera, how could she?

"Stop reading. I’m clad in mourning—how can this be appropriate for me?"

She whispered softly.

She dared not keep listening, afraid she wouldn’t be able to uphold her widow’s chastity. After all, she was still the Lin Family’s daughter-in-law. Her father had once lectured nearly every relative about the kindness and favor shown by Elder Lin of the Lin Family. Now that the Lin Family was on the brink of collapse—trampled upon countless times—the second and third branches clamored to change their surname, forgetting all the benefits they’d once taken from the Lin Family. At the very least, she could repay the Lin Family’s kindness.

She feared that if she kept listening, she wouldn’t be able to resist going to see opera. Yet if she were to step out, she’d no doubt be ridiculed as a loose woman having secret affairs. Though secluded within the Lin Family’s walls, she had heard enough rumors to know what people said. Elder Lin had garnered this reputation while alive; now that the Lin Family had fallen, it was surely worse. Still, she wanted to preserve this last shred of a widow’s dignity.

Zhen Lan—that was the courtesy name she had chosen for herself.

Seeing that the opera couldn’t distract her, Xiuhe stepped out to seek warmer clothing for her mistress. Otherwise, before the snow even fell, Lin Wanxiao’s delicate constitution wouldn’t survive the winter.

Now that Lin Wanxiao was shunned, events with the other noble families were regular occurrences during designated rest days. Though Lin Wanxiao had once had a seat at these gatherings, she no longer did. She had returned to her parents’ house just four days ago, yet received no monthly allowance—deliberately ignored or overlooked. In truth, it wasn’t just the allowance; even her meals were brought by Xiuhe from the estate’s kitchens.

Lin Wanxiao didn’t mind much. If she attended the gatherings, let alone the squabbling second and third branch family members, she suspected even her eldest brother from the chief branch would coolly ignore her presence. Unkind barbs might be hidden behind forced civility, but she knew the discomfort of sitting at such a table with everyone engaged in silent hostility.

By noon, Lin Wanxiao’s stomach ached with hunger. Xiuhe still hadn’t returned, and worry crept into her heart. Just as she rose to look for her maid, urgent footsteps echoed from outside her room.

"Madam, the eldest lady has sent maids to accompany you. She says to take you out to choose fabrics."

Xiuhe exclaimed excitedly.

Lin Wanxiao was stunned. Turning her head, she saw the chief branch’s lady, Madam Luo, approaching at leisure. She greeted her respectfully, expecting harsh words or subtle efforts to persuade her to leave. To her surprise, Madam Luo expressed concern for her welfare and personally handed her the monthly allowance.

"These days have been chaotic. It has undoubtedly been hard on you, Third Sister."

Madam Luo said gently.

Lin Wanxiao had already prepared herself to lower her head to everyone she encountered. Her parents’ reaction was something she expected; it wasn’t particularly painful.

After exchanging pleasantries, Madam Luo spoke again:

"Later, Third Sister, accompany me out to pick some fabrics. We can distribute them among the branches to help prepare for winter."

"But... I’m still in mourning."

"Don’t worry. In the carriage, no one will see you. Wear a veil and a hat to shield your face—who would notice? Besides, you have a keen eye. Before your marriage, you always helped with choosing fabrics for everyone. I trust you, and surely you trust me?"

Madam Luo persuaded her flawlessly.

With such urging, Lin Wanxiao felt that refusing would only risk offending Madam Luo. What’s more, she was growing weary of confinement. If she were to leave, so be it.

............

"The dream returns, orioles sing. Time scatters like blossoms. She stands alone in a deep courtyard."

The opera house in Loyal Virtue Inn performed "The Peony Pavilion."

It was precisely the tenth act, "The Dream Awakens." At that moment, the actress portraying Du Liniang wandered the garden, about to dreamily encounter the scholar Liu Mengmei. Lin Wanxiao sat in a private box, observing from a window above, listening avidly for a while.

She had originally gone with Madam Luo to pick fabrics. After the selection was complete, Madam Luo brought her here to listen to opera. Unable to decline, she followed along and eventually permitted herself to be escorted to the private box.

Even then, she didn’t remove her veil, worried that she might be recognized. Halfway through the performance, Madam Luo abruptly received a report from her attendants and left hurriedly, promising to return.

Descending the stairs past a corner, Madam Luo found herself face-to-face with a tall, ruthless-looking man.

"My thanks to the Madam."

Mo Hu cupped his hands in gratitude.

Madam Luo nodded slightly and said:

"My husband hasn’t realized she’s left. Handle this quietly but thoroughly. It’ll be best if she doesn’t return. Keeping her around will only spell trouble."

Mo Hu assented, waiting for Madam Luo to leave the inn before ascending the stairs.

Outside the entrance of the inn, hoofbeats rang out. By the door, there stood a man dressed in dark official robes. Dismounting from his horse, he carried a sword on his back and a knife at his side. His face, obscured by the shadow of the eaves, seemed to be questioning someone for clues.

Madam Luo paid him no mind and hurried away.

Inside the private booth, only Lin Wanxiao and Xiuhe remained.

Locks of hair shadowed the door as approaching footsteps grew steady. Someone came to deliver tea.

Xiuhe rose to meet them, but the door swung open first.

The person who entered wasn’t a tea girl or a servant—it was a brooding, ruthless-looking man.

Lin Wanxiao furrowed her brows as Xiuhe moved to speak.

Crack!

A sudden, violent blow landed. Xiuhe’s body flung backwards like a snapped kite, hurtling into a chair that broke clean under the impact!

Mo Hu withdrew his foot, casting his gaze toward the pale-faced mistress and asked:

"You must be Lin Yan’s widow?"

"Who are you? What do you want?"

Lin Wanxiao’s face drained of color as she glanced at the unconscious Xiuhe before turning to Mo Hu, who fully blocked the doorway with his figure. She dared not cry for help, and his skillful kick ensured that aside from the broken chair, no noise escaped. Clearly, Mo Hu didn’t want to alert the inn’s opera-goers.

Add to that, the theater’s semi-open structure meant even if a fight broke out here, it wouldn’t disturb the performers or audience below.

"This inn is a restricted area. Starting trouble here... What is your intention?"

Lin Wanxiao forced herself to remain calm and asked.

Mo Hu casually took a seat, dragging a bamboo chair over, and his tone slowed:

"I have a question for you—not a big one. Answer honestly, and neither of us will have any problems."

Lin Wanxiao said nothing, keeping her eyes fixed on the intruder.

A flicker of hostility crossed Mo Hu’s face. Spies had long identified Lin Wanxiao’s return to her parents’ home, but they had struggled to find an opportunity to make their move. Eventually, connections were used—through the second branch—and Madam Luo agreed to lure Lin Wanxiao here to Loyal Virtue Inn.

Since arriving in the capital, Lin Yan’s whereabouts had been a mystery. It was said he had died, but the lack of a body left room for doubt. If Lin Yan were alive, everything would be easier to resolve.

The secretary Li Ping suspected that Lin Yan might still be alive, likely hidden away somewhere.

"Where is Lin Yan?"

Mo Hu asked directly.

Lin Wanxiao seemed to recall something as her complexion turned even paler, almost chalk-like.

The splashing sound of blood came alive in her ears, as if it were her own vitality draining away. The horrifying visage of Chen Yi seemed to resurface before her.

She had called him "Uncle" and begged him on several occasions, but ultimately, amidst the mess of blood and gore, it all fell apart.

"Entangled and confused, no way to unravel, burdens weigh."

The alluring actress sang onstage.

Seeing Lin Wanxiao remain silent, Mo Hu’s gaze grew darker, and he seemed poised to strike.

"Help! Help..."

A sudden cry rang through the inn.

Before the shout could finish, the sharp sound of splintering wood broke through.

Bang!

Mo Hu turned abruptly, rushing outside. In the hallway, Li Ping’s body was flung backward, sliding to a halt before him.

The secretary Li Ping appeared to have several broken ribs, blood trailing from his lips. Mo Hu’s fury was evident as he glanced upward at a man descending the hallway—a dark-robed official with a swaying waist token, the words "West Factory Thousand Households" glinting faintly.

"Whose kill, whose horse hangs in disgrace?"

The dark-robed official asked.

"Such audacity, striking the envoy’s secretary who represented our Prince!"

Mo Hu’s expression darkened with fury as he responded.

Inside the booth, Lin Wanxiao gradually regained her composure. Spotting that Mo Hu had left, she rushed toward Xiuhe, discovering she still clung to life, albeit weakly. A slight sense of relief overcame her.

Carefully, she raised her gaze toward the hallway.

When her eyes caught a glimpse of that familiar face, her entire body trembled, overwhelmed by dizziness.

She couldn’t believe how crippling her fear was—just from a stolen glance.

"No mirror in hand, gazing at half a hidden reflection..."

The opera actress continued singing.