The Real Young Master is Entangled by the Paranoid Fake Young Master - Chapter 47

By the time Zhaoqing’s group returned to the Song residence, evening had already fallen. As twilight merged with the horizon, the lifeless and sprawling Song mansion was cast into a lonely darkness, resembling a vampire’s ancient castle.

The newly promoted Butler Qu seemed surprised to see the two young masters returning at this hour. He shot a peculiar look at Zhaoqing before saying, “The Old Madame’s health has not been well lately. Please keep your movements quiet, Young Masters. She has just fallen asleep; please do not wake her.”

Zhaoqing ignored him. He strode quickly into the main house, leaving Song Yuening and Lin Qi struggling to keep up with his pace.

“Young Master Zhaoqing, slow down!” Butler Qu had previously been a trusted aide in the Song family, though he had been overshadowed by the former Butler Yu. Now that he finally had his chance to shine, he was even more sycophantic toward Song Shicheng and the Old Madame.

Zhaoqing paid no heed to his warnings. Reaching the end of the staircase, he reached out and twisted a decorative ornament. With a soft click, an entrance automatically split open beneath the stairs.

It led to the Song family’s small Buddhist prayer room.

Zhaoqing himself had been confined there for a time. Remembering Song Zhiyuan’s threat, that Lili would “become obedient” after a few more days of confinement, he guessed she was being held here.

This secret basement was different from the ancestral hall. Though clean and free of vermin, it was sweltering and filled with overwhelming prayer banners. Once the door was closed, someone outside could control the light: it was either twenty-four hours of blinding, stadium-grade intensity or absolute, soul-crushing darkness. One could hear nothing from the outside world. For someone locked within, the psychological torment was unimaginable.

Lili had never suffered a day in her life. The Song family used this method specifically to “grind down her spirit.” It was an ignorant, cruel act that revealed the greed hidden beneath their human skin.

The basement door was made of wood. Without a word, Zhaoqing drew a decorative blade from the wall and struck the chains on the lock twice. The chains snapped so quickly that Butler Qu didn’t even have time to call for help before Zhaoqing had stormed in and released Lili.

At that moment, the Old Madame finally arrived, flanked by a crowd of servants. When the door opened, Song Lili threw herself into Zhaoqing’s arms, sobbing. Seeing her tear-streaked face, Zhaoqing clenched his fists.

The Old Madame, seeing Zhaoqing standing in the hall full of hostility and holding a knife, dared to shout her rebukes. “Song Zhaoqing! What on earth are you doing? This is the Song residence, not a place for you to brandish weapons! You bastard, you harbinger of bad luck! Do you intend to irritate me to death before you’re satisfied?”

Having enjoyed a lifetime of wealth and status, the Old Madame possessed a foolish sort of recklessness. Even as everyone around her noticed the undisguised murderous intent in Zhaoqing’s eyes, she continued her incessant cursing.

Zhaoqing whispered a few comforting words to Lili and pushed her toward the trembling maid, Xiao Yue. Then, he fixed his gaze on the Old Madame, looking as if he wanted to bore a hole through her. He walked alone toward the woman, who was now sallow-faced and sitting in a wheelchair. The other servants backed away in fear, but the Old Madame straightened her back.

“What? You, bastard dare to glare at me! Butler, go fetch the family cane!”

Zhaoqing blocked out her filthy language. Expressionless, he pressed the blade directly against her neck, slowly moving it upward until it rested against her cheek. Several young maids screamed in terror.

Panic flared in the Old Madame’s eyes, but she decided to maintain her facade of fearlessness, believing Zhaoqing wouldn’t actually dare to do anything.

Finally, the Song family bodyguards rushed in. Seeing their mistress held captive, they moved to intervene. However, before they could take a step, Song Yuening spoke.

“I’ll see who dares to harm him!”

Though he could not see, he had heard the sound of their leather boots on the floor. For a moment, the room was so silent you could hear a pin drop. The bodyguards, who had just been closing in, suddenly stood frozen.

Zhaoqing looked back in surprise. He hadn’t expected the guards to listen to Song Yuening over the Old Madame. It seemed Yuening’s infiltration of the Song family and the Song Group was far deeper than he had imagined.

Even more shocked was the Old Madame. “You! Are you all deaf or blind? Why are you just standing there!” She was so livid her face twisted, yet she couldn’t command a single soul.

Seeing Zhaoqing closing in with no one to help her, she was forced to “condescend” to move her wheelchair herself. But she couldn’t move faster than Zhaoqing’s blade.

“Ah!” A piercing scream echoed through the mansion.

The Old Madame felt a sharp sting. She touched her cheek and found a bloody gash had been sliced open. Despite her age, she remained as vain as ever, spending millions annually on skincare. To be disfigured by Zhaoqing without warning was more than she could bear.

“Rebellion! This is rebellion!” she shrieked. She saw the blood dripping onto her dress and looked at her grandchildren, who stood by with cold indifference.

Song Yuening no longer needed the Song family’s specialized medicine, so he saw no point in humoring the Old Madame. For years, he had wished for her death; it was she who had first suggested drugging him all those years ago. Seeing Zhaoqing slice her face didn’t just feel satisfying, he even considered adding something to her medicine to make the wound fester.

As for Song Lili, her heart had been completely broken by the family over the past few days. She wanted her brother and her mother. This place was terrifying. She shuddered to think what would have happened if she had been forced to marry the violent Young Master Jiang.

Zhaoqing pulled the sobbing Lili into his arms and walked out the front door. Behind them, the Old Madame’s roars continued, but the crowd automatically parted for them under the weight of Yuening’s presence. Eventually, the Old Madame fainted from a surge of suppressed rage.

“I’ll take Lili to stay with her mother first,” Zhaoqing whispered into Yuening’s ear.

Yuening nodded and ordered the driver to bring the car around. When Zhaoqing tried to refuse, Yuening asked if he really wanted Lili to walk that long mountain road while exhausted. Zhaoqing gave in. Given Yuening’s current influence, the driver wouldn’t dare reveal Zhen Xue’s location.

On the way back from Zhen Xue’s house, Yuening leaned his head on Zhaoqing’s shoulder, his hair brushing against Zhaoqing’s neck. Both were exhausted, and the car remained silent. Suddenly, as they turned back toward the Song residence, Yuening spoke.

“Zhaozhao… actually, there is something I’ve been keeping from you.”

Zhaoqing immediately thought of what Lawyer Wu had said about his mother’s relic. “What is it?”

Yuening looked at him with those tender, drowning eyes and said, “You’ll know very soon. For now, it’s still a secret.”

By the fifth day back at the Song house, Song Yuening’s vision began to return. First, he could see the blurred outlines of objects; by the tenth day, he could walk and live normally without assistance. Zhaoqing figured his eyes would be fully restored within another half-month.

Perhaps because she had been so enraged that day, the Old Madame hadn’t been able to stir up more trouble for Zhaoqing. When the family doctor arrived, the truth could no longer be hidden: the Old Madame was suffering from leukemia.

Song Shicheng, who had been busy trying to save his business, finally returned home. Seeing Zhaoqing, he demanded he undergo a bone marrow screening. If it was a match, he ordered Zhaoqing to donate to the Old Madame to “atone for his sins.”

Zhaoqing refused, and the two had a row that shook the house. Shicheng called him an unfilial son, but Zhaoqing only found it laughable. If it came to atonement, the Songs would have to die ten thousand times over.

Surprisingly, the incident where Zhaoqing cut the Old Madame’s face was kept secret. Zhaoqing didn’t know how Yuening had silenced the servants, but he knew it was his doing.

When Shicheng tried to force the screening, Yuening calmly produced three reports signed by famous doctors. They showed that Zhaoqing, Yuening, and Lili were all incompatible matches. Shicheng’s face turned grim. None of the children could save her.

Zhaoqing was privately stunned. He knew Yuening had forged the reports, because in his previous life, Zhaoqing had successfully donated bone marrow to the Old Madame. But he had no intention of harming his body for that old hag again. Let her fend for herself.

In the meantime, Song Zhiyuan was still missing. Zhaoqing assumed he was hiding out of shame. With no family matches, Shicheng turned to the black market. Within three days, Lin Qi found a mysterious donor.

The donor was strange; he refused to meet the Songs and insisted the surgery take place at a specific private hospital. Despite his suspicions, Shicheng was desperate and agreed.

The surgery was scheduled for a Saturday afternoon under a torrential downpour. By the time Zhaoqing and Yuening returned from an exam at school, the procedure was over. However, Zhaoqing felt a nagging sense of unease.

The next day, the Old Madame regained consciousness. The donor’s family had already left, but a group of men in black remained outside the ward like sentinels. When Zhaoqing passed them, his skin crawled.

As the Old Madame woke, a man in black knocked on the door. “Hello, sir,” he said to Song Shicheng. “My master says that being able to donate bone marrow is a sign of fate between our families. He has sent a gift. We hope your family recovers quickly.”

He clapped his hands, and four men moved a massive black crate on wheels into the room.

“The gift has been delivered. We hope you enjoy it,” the man said with an inscrutable smile before leaving.

Everyone’s eyes fixed on the crate. Lin Qi stepped forward and opened it, as if opening Pandora’s box.

Screams erupted from the nurses and servants. Inside the crate sat a wheelchair, and in that wheelchair was a pale, unconscious man covered by a blanket. His arms bore marks of torture, and beneath the blanket, there was a hollow void.

Even without lifting the cloth, they could tell the man was missing his lower legs.

That man was the long-missing Song Zhiyuan.

A piece of white paper was pinned to his chest. Lin Qi, trembling, picked it up. It read:

[Old Madame Song, are you satisfied with the bone marrow of your beloved eldest grandson?]

The Old Madame realized the truth a second too late. Her mouth hung open, saliva dripping, as her body began to convulse violently from the shock. The hospital room descended into total chaos.