Volume One, Chapter 13: The Young Mistress Has Been Abducted!

After hearing Yun Xia speak about matters concerning the main household, Mingshu took her leave.

Yun Xia insisted on slipping a box of donkey-hide gelatin cake into Muxi’s arms, saying to Mingshu, “The matriarch sent this. Eating it in winter replenishes blood and energy. Don’t disdain it; just accept it as a token of gratitude from the servant on behalf of Sister Yunqing.”

How could Mingshu refuse?

Muxi was so moved that her eyes reddened. On the way back, she whispered to Mingshu, “What kind of erudite scholar is that? Not as conscientious as a mere maid!”

Mingshu smiled and patted her cheek. “Don’t be angry, Muxi. You have the broadest heart of all!”

“Are you not upset?”

“No. It’s easy for others to be conscientious when we are formidable enough to hold power over their lives and deaths. Then you’ll see only those with conscience.”

Muxi stared at her in stunned silence. Mingshu smiled gently, her gaze resolute. “No rush. That day will come.”

*

The next morning, before dawn, Madam Cheng arrived at the East Wing, accompanied by a stern-faced nanny and several maids.

“You, serve the Third Young Mistress with her clothes.”

“You, bring water for washing.”

“You, attend the Third Young Mistress’s breakfast.”

…

Mingshu was practically dragged from her bed, even fed her meals. Muxi stood by helplessly, unable to intervene.

Fifteen minutes later, a burly nanny hoisted Mingshu onto her back and whisked her away to the West Wing like a gust of wind.

Zhao Bo, just waking, was stunned. He hurried to knock on Fu Zhixun’s door.

“Young Master, the Young Mistress has been taken away!”

Fu Zhixun snapped awake, flung open the door. “Who took her?”

Zhao Bo swallowed nervously, feeling guilty. “Second Madam…”

Fu Zhixun’s eyes sharpened like knives.

At the West Wing entrance, Fu Yanshan stood in the biting wind, craning his neck in waiting. The moment he saw Mingshu, he shouted sharply, “Line up!”

Mingshu blinked awake fully upon seeing two neat rows of soldiers on either side.

Madam Cheng bustled about explaining, “These are men I borrowed from the General’s residence. They’ve been to the battlefield, full of vigor, ready for your orders!”

“All doors in the manor are opened, guarded at the entrances. Ask for anything you need, just command it.”

“Huangfu talismans, cinnabar, realgar, bronze mirrors, jade stones… all prepared.”

“Madam Nian!”

A round-faced nanny stepped forward, presenting a steaming bowl of medicinal tea.

Madam Cheng urged, “Drink this ginseng broth and get to work!”

Mingshu was speechless.

This setup felt oddly familiar…

Very well.

After downing the broth, Mingshu climbed down from the nanny’s back, adjusted her cloak, squared her shoulders, and entered the manor. “Let’s inspect Uncle’s antiques.”

To facilitate Mingshu’s examination, Fu Yanshan had moved all the antiques from the West Wing into the storage and study rooms.

Surrounded by dazzling arrays of exquisite antiquities, Mingshu’s mind churned with two thoughts:

Second Aunt’s dowry was truly abundant;

Second Uncle’s money was far too easy to swindle.

Her talent was not limited to glimpsing yin and yang energies; she could also discern an artifact’s age.

A single glance revealed at least half of these “antiques” were no more than thirty or forty years old—though perhaps their rarity and delicacy were what made Second Uncle buy them.

“These vases, supposedly from two dynasties ago, I recently snagged. They shouldn’t be connected to the corpse aura…”

Staring at a pair of blue-and-white porcelain vases decorated with entwined peonies, Mingshu revised her earlier assessment: the firing date was no more than ten years ago.

Seeing Mingshu’s serious expression, Fu Yanshan asked, “Is there a problem with these vases?”

Mingshu answered succinctly, “They’re fakes.”

Fu Yanshan raised his voice in protest, “Niece-in-law, you understand feng shui, but antiques? You’re too young to know about these things.”

“These vases were coated with a layer of paint to look brand new, but my keen eye saw through it immediately. I removed the paint! Look here, these are genuine antiques from five or six centuries ago. Porcelain in such pristine condition is rare!”

Mingshu touched the vase, feeling a residual warmth as if from a freshly lit fire. “You only removed the first layer of disguise. The second layer is an intentional aging effect. Once removed, the vase reveals its true face. If you don’t believe me, have the servants prepare these items…”

Fu Yanshan’s expression turned grave. Mingshu was speaking of materials used to clean antiques.

In other words, she understood appraisal.

The household had these items, and soon the servants brought them.

Mingshu mixed a pale viscous liquid proportionally, dipped a small brush, and gently brushed the vase’s body. After about fifteen minutes, she wiped it with a soft cloth.

After several rounds, a bright, new patch appeared on the vase’s body.

Mingshu set down the bowl. “The rest is for you to handle. I’ll go find the source of the corpse aura.”

*

Fu Yanshan scolded the antique shop owner mercilessly.

At the same time, he grew an unexpected admiration for Mingshu.

After a moment’s hesitation, he tested, “Niece-in-law, while you’re at it, help Uncle see if there are other fakes here.”

Mingshu probed back, “Are you sure?”

Fu Yanshan patted his chest. “Tell Uncle honestly, and he’ll give those worthless things a good dressing-down!”

So Mingshu did.

“This piece is at most twenty years old, this one thirty…”

Fu Yanshan’s complexion paled with every “this one” he heard. After a dozen such remarks, he was ashen, his calves trembling. Without a servant’s support, he would have collapsed.

“N-No telling Second Madam…” He instinctively looked toward the door, heart pounding.

Seeing Fu Zhixun’s figure, he steadied himself and said, “Third nephew, you’re here. Why no greeting?”

Fu Zhixun smiled, striding in. “Just arrived.”

Mingshu knew he was here for the spectacle. She nodded to him and continued sorting through the fakes.

After more than an hour, she finished inspecting the storage and study. Despite half being counterfeit, there were still many genuine antiques.

Yet none emitted the corpse aura.

Mingshu frowned deeply.

Could it be that the antique infested with corpse aura was, like the vases, concealed beneath layers of disguise—or rather, a seal?

Judging by the aura only afflicting Second Uncle, Second Aunt, and the two servants, the seal was peculiar: it only revealed itself to those close to Second Uncle. Even Mingshu found this speculation a little far-fetched.

“An item carrying such a heavy corpse aura can’t have been underground for long. We should start checking from the oldest items.”

Mingshu’s reasoning made sense. She added, “This antique must have entered the household before Second Aunt lost her first child.”

The room fell into sudden silence when she finished speaking.

Only then did Mingshu realize it wasn’t Fu Yanshan who had spoken, but Fu Zhixun.

Fu Zhixun looked at Mingshu puzzled.

Fu Yanshan’s ashen face slowly paled further, his expression a mixture of shock and long-buried sorrow.