Chapter 5 — When the Green Tea Meets a Dark Lotus

When the first pale sliver of dawn bled into the horizon, that insane and grotesque ritual of blood-swapping finally came to an end. Mistress Xie was barely clinging to life, her entire body withered and aged until she resembled an octogenarian hag. Her skin was shriveled and parched, stretched tight like a desiccated corpse drained of every last drop of moisture. She lay there motionless, exhaling faint wisps of air with no corresponding inhalation, her cloudy, lifeless eyes fixed in a blank stare upon Xie Heng, brimming with profound malice and suffocating despair. And Xie Heng—though his torn flesh had ceased to ooze and fester—now bore a face utterly disfigured by jagged, undulating scars. Crimson ridges crawled across his features like bloated centipedes, rendering him infinitely hideous. He had survived, but he was entirely ruined. Willow Yi collapsed heavily to the side, panting like a dying hound. The physician wiped the cold sweat from his brow, bowed deeply, and spoke.

Lady Shen, the blood transfusion is complete. As for the Elder Mistress Xie... I fear she will not survive the next three days. Regarding Young Master Xie, though much of the poison has been purged, the deep-seated malignancy has invaded his very bones. He will be dependent on medicinal brews for the remainder of his days, and whenever the weather turns damp or overcast, the agony will pierce straight through his marrow. I nodded with a deep sense of satisfaction.

Very well.

When Xie Heng regained consciousness, his very first impulse was to demand a mirror. Upon beholding the spectral visage staring back at him from the bronze glass, he let out a shriek of anguish that tore at his very soul, hurling the mirror against the wall where it shattered into a thousand pieces.

Willow Yi! You deceived me! You swore I would be healed! Why am I still left in this monstrous guise?!

Willow Yi cowered violently in the darkest corner of the room.

The poison had already penetrated your heart... this outcome... is the best we could hope for... at the very least... you preserved your life...

Xie Heng gasped for breath, his chest heaving violently as he turned his gaze toward his dying mother. In his eyes, there was not a single flicker of remorse, only a bitter elation at having survived, eclipsed by a murderous hatred for his lost countenance. He shifted his gaze to me, his expression complex and twisted.

Shen Qingzhu... now that I have been reduced to this... are you content?

I rose slowly from my seat, looking down upon him from above with supreme detachment.

Not yet.

Xie Heng... this is merely the beginning.

With those words, I turned on my heel and swept out of the room. Behind me echoed the terrified, hysterical weeping of Xie Wan and the impotent, enraged bellowing of Xie Heng. Upon returning to the Shen estate, I immediately initiated the second phase of my plan. News of the Shen family withdrawing all financial investments spread like wildfire, sending tremors throughout the entire capital's commercial sphere. The pawnshops and merchant houses that had previously extended loans to the Xie family out of deference to the Shen name now swarmed their gates, demanding immediate repayment of their debts. The Xie household, already drowning in financial ruin, found their predicament worsening like frost added upon accumulated snow. Xie Heng, who had clawed his way back from the jaws of death, was instantly confronted with an insurmountable mountain of debt. Desperate to liquidate assets, he discovered to his horror that all his storefronts were operating at a massive deficit, their ledger books in utter disarray, while nearly all their landed properties had already been mortgaged. When he attempted to seek aid from his former acquaintances, not a single soul dared to grant him an audience. The moment anyone caught a glimpse of that grotesque, mutilated face, they scattered as if fleeing a pestilence. Moreover, the Shen household had already leaked a stern warning to the public.

Whoever dares to assist the Xie family... makes an enemy of the Shen family.

Three days later, Mistress Xie breathed her last. Before her final breath, she clutched the bedsheets in a death grip, her eyes bulging wide in eternal terror—she died with her grievances entirely unredressed. The Xie residence hung white mourning banners and erected a funerary hall, yet the surrounding streets remained utterly deserted. Aside from a handful of relentless creditors sitting menacingly at the gates, not a single person came to pay their respects or offer condolences. The marquis manor that had once stood as the most glorious estate in the capital was now reduced to a pathetic laughingstock whispered about on every street corner. Xie Wan, desperate to escape this suffocating purgatory, sought to rely on a verbal betrothal made in their youth with the young master of the Li family. The Li heir had once been infatuated with her, but upon catching sight of her now, he recoiled as if encountering a ghastly specter, waving his hands frantically in disgust.

Xie Xiaojie, your family's scandalous reputation now taints the entire capital, and your older brother carries the shameful stigma of being a matricide. Who in their right mind would dare marry you? Do not come near me, you bring nothing but misfortune!

Weeping bitterly, Xie Wan fled back to her dilapidated home, pointed a trembling finger directly at Xie Heng, and shrieked in absolute fury.

This is all your fault! You destroyed my life! You drove our mother to her grave! You hideous monster!

Xie Heng's temperament had undergone a drastic and volatile shift; the slightest contradiction would send him into a raving, violent frenzy. Hearing his sister hurl the word monster at him, he snatched up a heavy porcelain teacup and hurled it violently at her head. The flying shards slashed deep across Xie Wan's face, leaving a long, bleeding gash.

Get out! Get out of my sight! I am the Marquis! In this house, my word is law!

Clutching her bleeding face and crying in sheer despair, Xie Wan packed a meager bundle of clothes that very night and eloped with one of the estate stewards, vanishing into the night. From that day onward, the Xie Marquis Manor housed only two souls: Xie Heng, and Willow Yi, whom he kept locked away in captivity.

Indeed, Xie Heng did not kill Willow Yi. However, his so-called love had twisted into a morbid, relentless form of torture. He imprisoned her deep within the secret chamber that had once served as their secluded sanctuary of romance. Yet that place no longer held warm baths of passion; it had transformed into an earthly hell. Every single time his agonizing affliction flared up, Xie Heng would descend into the cellar to torment Willow Yi. He convinced himself that she was the root cause of all his excruciating suffering. He forced her to ingest various experimental poisons, desperately hoping to discover a concoction that might restore his ruined visage. He compelled her to kneel upon jagged fragments of broken porcelain while he lashed her mercilessly with a whip, deriving a perverse solace from her agonizing shrieks to numb his own physical torment. When the secret reports finally reached my hands, I was sitting peacefully, leisurely sipping my tea.

Milieu, the shadow guard reported, kneeling respectfully upon the floor, Willow Yi is currently enduring a fate worse than death. She has attempted to take her own life on several occasions, but Xie Heng continually revives her only to subject her to even more horrific atrocities.

I gently blew away the delicate foam upon the surface of the tea and smiled faintly.

The wicked reap what they sow. It spares me the trouble of dirtying my own hands.