Born to Be Either Rich or Noble - Chapter 50

The entire Lu household—over a hundred lives—was wiped out overnight.

Shen Che had seen the skill of Qian Tong’s maid, Fu Yin, and knew the strength of her guard, A Jin. With their combined ability, slaughtering a house full of defenseless women and children would’ve been child’s play.

He asked coldly, “Was it you who killed them?”

“I’ve said it countless times—it wasn’t me,” Qian Tong replied, sounding almost tired. “Ask me as many times as you like, Young Master Shen. I didn’t kill anyone, and that won’t change.”

“And why should I believe you?” he snapped. Everyone had seen her at the scene. Before that, the Lus had beaten her father within an inch of his life. There was motive, there was opportunity. She was a cunning woman—not one to forgive an insult. He refused to believe she wouldn’t seek revenge.

As for her excuse—that she’d gone to save the Lu family’s second son’s child—utter nonsense. “That man tried to assassinate you,” Shen Che said sharply. “Why would you ever show him mercy?”

Qian Tong gave a soft, humorless laugh. “Seems in your eyes, I’m nothing but a villain through and through.” She waved a hand dismissively. “Then call your noble heir to question me himself.”

She still dared to invoke the shizi’s name! (t/n: shizi refers to the heir of a noble house)

The current Heir Apparent Song Yunzhi was no longer the same man as before—no longer the one she had once bewitched. If he saw her again, what could he say? Whatever she claimed, he would believe.

“You’ll see no such man,” Shen Che said coldly. “Until you tell the truth, you’ll rot here.”

He rose and ordered Wang Zhao, “This woman is cunning. Post more guards. Don’t let her escape.”

He truly thought highly of her, she mused. Watching him storm off after delivering only a few vague threats, she raised a brow. “Leaving so soon? Not even a proper interrogation?”

Shen Che ignored her.

Outside the dungeon, he asked Wang Zhao, “Where’s the heir?” Since their return, Song Yunzhi had only ordered that Qian Tong be locked up—and then vanished.

“I don’t know, my lord,” Wang Zhao said. “He returned briefly, then left again.”

Qian Tong had slept outdoors before—she could manage a night in a cell. On a deserted island, she’d slept under open skies; this, at least, had a roof. Sitting on a pile of straw, she leaned back against the cold wall and closed her eyes.

Of the Four Great Houses, only two remained.

She wondered if her father had woken yet.

She had only meant to stroll around after the engagement banquet, maybe buy some return gifts for all those who had sent presents. Now she hadn’t even bought a trinket—and had landed in jail first.

Lowering her head, she caught sight of her bloodstained clothes. The only clean thing left on her was the white jade pendant at her waist—snow-white against crimson, a hauntingly beautiful contrast.

When she’d left the Lu residence, the sky had already turned red with dusk. By now it must be the middle of the night. Sleep crept up on her, and she nodded off. When she woke, she found someone sitting before her—eyes dark and deep, fixed on her.

The dungeon was always lit; she couldn’t tell the time.

Qian Tong blinked. “Your Lordship?”

Sitting up straighter, she rubbed her sore shoulder. “When did you come in? You could’ve said something. Such kindness—you all treat prisoners so gently, do you?”

Song Yunzhi said nothing.

She noticed he was still wearing yesterday’s robe, travel dust clinging to his sleeves. He must’ve come straight from elsewhere. When he stayed silent too long, she ventured, “You believe I’m innocent, don’t you?”

Finally, he spoke. “If you were innocent, I’d never wrong you.”

Was that belief or doubt? She couldn’t tell.

She knelt upright before him, expression calm. “Then question me, Your Lordship.”

The dried blood on her dress had turned dark purple. Her hair was a tangled mess from sleeping against the wall, but she didn’t care. She simply stared at him, waiting.

Still, he said nothing.

“Why won’t you ask?” she prodded. “Didn’t you have me thrown in here? If you think I’m guilty, interrogate me. Torture me if you must—beat me until I confess.”

Her voice rang sharp in the still air, but he only regarded her in silence. She laughed softly, reading his expression. “You’re disappointed, aren’t you?”

“You allied with me at the cost of your own engagement,” she continued bitterly. “Too bad for you—you chose the wrong partner. I’m a wicked woman through and through, sly and corrupt. I’ve ruined your reputation. Such a pity the engagement happened too early…”

Her tone turned light, teasing. “Still, few people know. Once you regain your standing, this scandal will just make you look noble—enduring humiliation for a greater cause. The ladies will—”

“Aren’t you thirsty?” Song Yunzhi interrupted.

Qian Tong blinked.

He turned, retrieved a small bamboo basket from behind him, and set it before her. “Rinse your mouth. Then eat.”

“What’s this, my last meal or a welcome banquet?” she muttered.

He didn’t answer. “You’ll stay here for now.”

His tone was calm—too calm. That was what made her sure: if he truly believed she was guilty, he’d have dragged her to the execution grounds himself, engagement be damned.

“If you believe I’m innocent, then why won’t you let me go?” she asked.

“Are you?” he shot back. His voice hardened. “Then tell me—why did you go to the Lu house yesterday?”

She blurted, “Because they provoked me again and again! The second son tried to kill me, then Lu Er beat my father half to death. If it were you, could you swallow that?”

As soon as she spoke, she regretted it. He was not a man ruled by emotion.

Sure enough, he said, “The magistrate’s office is a short walk from the Lu estate. I was in the teahouse myself. Why didn’t you report it?”

His voice lashed out like a whip. She faltered. “The four houses settle their own disputes. We don’t involve—”

“There are no ‘four houses,’” he snapped. “In Great Yu, there is only the court—and the people.”

Under that pressure, she fell silent.

He asked again, “Had you listened to me yesterday, would you be sitting here now? You say I don’t trust you—but when have you ever trusted me?”

She froze, realizing what he meant—he had sent her a warning through A Jin. The message never reached her.

But if he could see the discrepancy, then he must know she’d been framed. Encouraged, she said quickly, “I think I know who did it, Your Lordship—”

“I won’t hear it,” he cut her off coldly. “And don’t dream of leaving. You won’t get out.”

There was no room for negotiation in his voice.

She understood then—he meant to keep her locked up to buy time to clear her name. He had the heart of a loyal minister… and the conscience of a good man.

Even if he believed she was innocent, word would spread—to Yangzhou, to Jinling, and eventually to his family. He wasn’t afraid of that?

His good intentions touched her, and she tried to reason with him. “I could have escaped yesterday.”

“I told you,” he said coldly, “nothing is absolute. There are always unforeseen turns.”

His rebuke silenced her. After a pause, she tilted her head with a wry smile. “Like our engagement, then—an accident, wasn’t it? You stumbled, I stumbled. Seems even the mighty heir can make a misstep. Why fault me alone?”

“People all make mistakes,” she continued. “If they fail, it’s a lesson. If they succeed, it’s called strategy. We’re both gamblers in the end.”

His brow twitched. “Stubborn to the end.”

She took the insult easily. “Your Lordship, I truly have unfinished business. I swear, I’ll behave from now on. You won’t even have to risk your name for me. Our alliance will still hold.”

Her tone softened. “After all this, who has the heart for a wedding? The engagement banquet’s already void. As long as I don’t cling to you or demand responsibility, you lose nothing. You wanted leverage over my family—now you have it. A merchant house entangled in a massacre? One word from you could destroy us.”

Seeing the flicker of anger in his eyes, she added quickly, “I know you’re fair and just. You’d never punish an innocent. But right now, the Qian family is broken. You could easily control me. Tell me what to do, and I’ll obey.”

Lowering her gaze, she unfastened the white jade pendant from her belt. “I could keep this and threaten you with it someday, but time’s running out. You know me—I always repay my debts. Someone’s trying to kill two birds with one stone, wiping out both my family and the Parks. I can’t sit back.” She extended the pendant toward him. “Take it. In exchange, give me three days’ freedom. I’ll come back myself once it’s done. You can lock me up for as long as you like.”

She held one end of the pendant, waiting for his answer.

The dungeon was silent except for the faint hiss of burning oil.

Song Yunzhi sat facing the lamp, its flame reflecting in his dark eyes—steady, unreadable.

He watched her for a long time. The firelight flickered in his gaze, fierce and bright.

At last, he spoke quietly, “So this is what you treasure most.”

Then he stood, his expression unreadable. “You and I are not the same. I keep my vows for life. The engagement still stands.”

He turned to leave. “Don’t even think of escaping.”

She stared after him, dumbfounded. By the time she scrambled to her feet, his back was already fading into the shadows.

“Your Lordship! Let’s renegotiate—change the terms, at least!”

“Yunzhi—!”

“Song Yunzhi!”

“You bastard!”

She slapped her forehead, cursing her own poor bargaining. Then—

A soft, familiar voice drifted from the darkness opposite her cell. “No need to shout, Lady Qian. He won’t let you out.”

The voice was unmistakable.

Qian Tong froze. “Young Master Lan?”