Chapter Thirty-Four: The Masks Are Torn Off

“The previous times you came, Grandmother did not see you because I had caught a chill and was afraid of passing it on to you. Now that I have recovered, I called you in,” Old Madam Yan said kindly to Yan Heru.

Had she not already learned from Madam Lin that Old Madam Yan was one of the conspirators, Yan Heru might still be thinking to preserve some semblance of civility with her. But now that she knew Old Madam Yan was involved, there was no longer any need to keep up appearances.

To uncover the mastermind, she would have to go against them. Now she knew who was behind it, a fierce struggle was inevitable in the near future.

“It is only natural that Grandmother, with your status, may summon me whenever you wish. I have come today to ask you about my mother,” Yan Heru said with a slight, polite smile—yet there was a cold distance in it.

She made no effort to hide the implication behind her words, and Old Madam Yan, shrewd as she was, immediately sensed Yan Heru’s displeasure.

“You are still blaming Grandmother, aren’t you?” Old Madam Yan seemed intent on maintaining a façade of peace, but without breaking that peace, the truth could never surface.

“Grandmother, I do not blame you. I only wish to ask about my mother,” Yan Heru said, letting her smile fade.

“If you are unwilling to speak, I shall seek answers elsewhere,” she added, feigning a move to stand and leave.

How could Old Madam Yan let her go so easily? She hurriedly called out, “Wait.”

Her tone now was cold and devoid of her usual warmth.

Yan Heru sat down again, watching her quietly. “Please, Grandmother.”

“Your mother fell ill and died not long after giving birth to you. She was a beautiful woman—so beautiful even the Emperor’s heart was moved,” Old Madam Yan said, her face twisted with resentment.

At the mention of the Emperor, Yan Heru’s mind immediately conjured a torrid tale of scandal, but Old Madam Yan’s next words shattered that imagined drama.

“Your mother was deeply devoted. She ignored all suitors, even the Emperor himself.”

Yan Heru had thought Old Madam Yan might claim that her mother’s children were not the Old Master’s, but the Emperor’s, and that this was why the entire Yan family despised the siblings, always seeking ways to be rid of them yet never daring to act openly.

To her surprise, Old Madam Yan spoke only of loyalty.

“Because of this, your father adored her. But beauty is often ill-fated; she died not long after giving birth to your brother,” Old Madam Yan said flatly.

These few words could be seen as revealing much, or nothing at all.

Yan Heru pressed further. “If Father cherished my mother so, why is he so cold toward my brother and me? Did we do something wrong?”

“That is your father’s issue. I do not know,” Old Madam Yan replied.

“Oh? Does Grandmother truly not know, or only pretend not to? If so, then why did you lavish us with such dangerous favor?” Yan Heru’s question drained the color from Old Madam Yan’s face, shattering any pretense of peace.

“Dangerous favor?”

“Was it not? No matter what my brother or I did, you always sided with us. One could call it love, but children cannot distinguish right from wrong. Could it be that you, the Old Madam of the Yan family, did not understand this?” Yan Heru said coldly, idly playing with the teacup on the table. Her words, though spoken carelessly, pressed heavily on Old Madam Yan.

Old Madam Yan’s expression grew grave, her chest heaving with agitation.

She was afraid. But why?

“What? Did I say something wrong? For children unable to discern truth from falsehood, to indulge them is to destroy them,” Yan Heru continued.

“I only pitied you both. Who would have thought even that was wrong?” Old Madam Yan sighed as if years of effort had come to nothing.

But Yan Heru was not deceived by her display. “Grandmother, your words suggest you do not understand the consequences of spoiling children. That does not match your reputation as a titled lady. Is any woman fit to bear the title of a noblewoman?”

“How dare you!” Old Madam Yan was truly angered. “To speak so outrageously—do you think marrying the Ninth Prince makes you invincible?”

“My marriage to the Ninth Prince was arranged entirely by you. It was hardly my choice,” Yan Heru replied.

“So now you blame me?” Old Madam Yan exclaimed, her agitation turning into a fit of coughing.

Granny Wang hurried to her side to help her breathe. She then glared at Yan Heru, frowning. “You have no idea how many disasters the Old Madam has shielded you from over the years. Now you accuse her in return. How ungrateful!”

If not for Madam Lin’s testimony, Yan Heru might have doubted her own suspicions—was Old Madam Yan truly trying to destroy the siblings, or was she simply too indulgent?

But once the truth is known, everything before her seemed unbearably false.

“If you refuse to tell me the truth about my mother, then there is no point in my staying. Grandmother, please rest well. Farewell.”

With a sweep of her sleeve, Yan Heru turned and left. Old Madam Yan pointed after her retreating figure, her anger so great she could not catch her breath and fainted.

“Doctor! Fetch the doctor, quickly!”

Yan Heru had not yet left the courtyard when she heard Granny Wang’s shouts summoning help.

She let out a cold laugh, feeling not a trace of guilt.

Why should she feel guilty? She now doubted even the truth of her mother’s death. If not for Old Madam Yan’s malicious indulgence, Yan Hecheng would not have made so many mistakes as a child. Small errors perhaps, but enough to anger anyone.

Their reputations had suffered largely thanks to Old Madam Yan.

All the way back, Yan Heru was simmering with wrath, vowing to obtain the evidence in Madam Lin’s hands as soon as possible.