Chapter 32: Playing Deaf and Dumb for Over a Decade

 Chapter 32: Playing Deaf and Dumb for Over a Decade

Cui Shi suddenly suffered a heart seizure. Lang Jiuchuan had not been overly alarmed at first, yet Jiangche’s mouth kept running on and on.

“To anger your mother to death—you’ll be struck by heaven’s retribution, won’t you? And besides, you’re only borrowing this body. Doing something like this must cost you merit, surely?” Jiangche said coolly.

Lose merit? That was absolutely unacceptable!

Lang Jiuchuan looked at Cui Shi’s face, turning blue, unable to breathe. She quickly stepped forward, seized Cui Shi’s right wrist, and pressed at her Neiguan acupoint, adjusting pressure from light to heavy. Then, without a word, she plucked a strand of Jiangche’s fur, transforming it into a needle, and drove it into the point. The hair-needle became an invisible force, traveling upward along the meridian to soothe the distressed organ.

Jiangche was dumbfounded. Its spiritual essence—how could she just pull it out like that?!

Cui Shi had felt as if an unseen hand were wringing her heart in torment, but Lang Jiuchuan’s rapid sequence of actions made her freeze in shock, even forgetting to clutch at her chest. She stared at her in disbelief.

“Medicine is here.” Jianlan held a fine jade bottle, opened the stopper, and quickly poured out a Rescue Heart Pill. She presented it on a handkerchief before Cui Shi’s lips, while Molan, who had followed with her, offered warm water to wash it down.

Yet Cui Shi found that the pain was already gone. She swallowed the pill almost by instinct.

Lang Jiuchuan had stepped back, brows drawn as she studied Cui Shi’s features. But the fate-lines remained unclear, and doubt flickered in her heart.

In physiognomy, one must not divine one’s own or a blood kin’s fate. To forcibly pry would invite backlash.

If she could not read Cui Shi’s lifespan, then that meant only one thing—blood relation.

Then why had Cui Shi suffered such a delusion, refusing even to recognize her daughter?

Lang Jiuchuan’s face darkened. She stood silent. Nanny Cheng, misreading her expression as stubbornness, gently pulled her aside and urged softly:“Ninth Young Miss, return to your quarters for now. Please don’t speak such harsh words again. Madam has heart pains—anger only worsens it. Ah, you are family. Why make it so bitter?”

Lang Jiuchuan gave a slight nod and turned to leave without a word.

Seeing this, Nanny Cheng’s headache deepened. She looked back toward Cui Shi, meaning to soothe the matter, but Cui Shi spoke first.

“Jianlan, go and attend her,” Cui Shi said, clutching her wrist. Then to Nanny Cheng: “What happened just now must not be spread. Make sure the maids hold their tongues tight.”

Nanny Cheng quickly agreed.

Indeed, this must never be told. If it spread that Lang Jiuchuan had defied her mother to the point of nearly driving her to death, the scorn alone would bury her.

“How are you feeling now? The physician still ought to come and check your pulse,” Nanny Cheng said anxiously. “If need be, we might even return to the Cui household…”

Cui Shi’s gaze cut across, displeased.

Nanny Cheng faltered, sighed, and said: “Let me help you inside to rest. When the physician arrives to take your pulse, you will be reassured.”

Cui Shi nodded, but instructed Molan: “Do not summon the physician. One was just called, and he must be busy tending to all the sick about the estate. I am fine.”

After mourning, many had fallen unwell. She had only caught a chill herself. She could not monopolize the physician, lest tongues wag.

“But, Madam…”

Cui Shi rose, hand upon her wrist. “Truly, it does not hurt in the least.”

She could not tell if it was the medicine or her mind, but when Lang Jiuchuan had grasped her wrist and pressed the Neiguan point, the pain had vanished as if it had never been.

Leaning back against the bed, Nanny Cheng tucked a cushion at her waist, called Molan to fetch attendants, placed a warming pan in her bedding, smoothed the quilt, and presented a freshly decocted bowl of medicine.

At the bitter scent, Cui Shi’s brows knit, her heart rebelling.

Nanny Cheng held a plate of candied fruits and coaxed: “The funeral has drained you, and the chill has worsened your weakness. If you will not drink this, how can you recover? The New Year is barely a month away. Would you really spend it still drinking bitter medicine?”

Cui Shi swallowed the dose in one breath. Bitterness filled her mouth, seeping into her heart. She opened her lips without thought when Nanny Cheng offered a candied fruit.

Watching her closely, Nanny Cheng said: “Madam, Ninth Young Miss has returned. It is not proper to send her back to the manor farm, especially when she is nearly of age. You have feigned deafness and silence for over a decade. Can you pretend forever? She is your only flesh and blood with the Second Master.”

Cui Shi’s face remained cold. “Was it I who refused her? You heard what she said. She was the one who would not stay.”

Nanny Cheng sighed. “My good girl, she is but a child, a young girl. From the start, because of your dislike, she was exiled to the manor farm—fourteen years gone. If it were you, would you not harbor grievance?”

The use of my good girl was the same as when she had been a maiden in her boudoir. It was true persuasion.

Cui Shi stiffened, lips pressed tight.

“I was your wet nurse, I raised you,” Nanny Cheng pressed on. “I was present when you gave birth. I never mistook my eyes. And there were Hongju and the others then too—all trustworthy. None dared attempt a trick like swapping babes. Why do you insist the young miss is not yours? Forgive this boldness, but—is it not your longing for the Second Master that has unsettled your mind?”

Cui Shi’s complexion turned deathly pale. Her lips trembled. “But what if you all were mistaken?”

“If I mistook her, did everyone mistake her?” Nanny Cheng asked. “You say she is not your child, but what proof have you? In childhood, she was not as clear, but now she bears your younger likeness. As for her nature—likely it follows the Master. No, one thing is like you as well: stubbornness.”

Cui Shi was silent, fingers brushing her wrist where the warmth of Lang Jiuchuan’s touch seemed to linger.

So—was it truly her mistake?

She closed her eyes. In her mind flickered blurred memories: a chamber wreathed in purple-red vapors, the newborn’s cries ringing out. She had forced her eyes open. Someone had lifted the infant before her—she had seen…

Had she been too exhausted, her vision failing her, or was there something else? If it were the former, then for all these years she had abandoned her daughter in error. How could such a debt ever be repaid?

Tears fell one by one down her cheeks, landing upon her wrist.

She drew a deep breath and looked at Nanny Cheng, whispering in her ear: “Wet nurse, go and tell Jianlan to…”

Nanny Cheng’s eyes widened faintly at the words. So this was the basis of her belief all these years?

“And if it is not so?” she asked.

Cui Shi fell silent for a long time, then lowered her eyes to hide her weariness. “If not, then it is Heaven’s will. For the matter of adoption—let it be as they wish.”

(End of Chapter)