Hanging oneself from the beam.

The visitor was none other than the third young lady of the household, the biological daughter of Second Master Gujiang—Gu Rou. True to her name, sixteen-year-old Gu Rou was gentle and graceful, her temperament as mild as a white rabbit, and her tranquil aura brought comfort and ease to all who met her.

Her words, spoken with a warm smile, were like a spring breeze brushing the face, instantly dispelling the undercurrents that had rippled between the three others. Gu Fei's expression grew subtly guarded; she turned to gaze at the woman beside her, placing her in her heart on equal footing with Gu Wanting, then smiled and asked, “Third Sister?”

Gu Rou lowered her gaze and caught sight of Zhang Qing’s face, as pure as white jade. She paused, her brows faintly furrowing before smoothing out again, returning a gentle smile. “Are you the Fifth Sister who returned to the manor some days ago?”

Gu Fei, revealing nothing, took in every nuance of Gu Rou’s demeanor. She narrowed her eyes, masking the darkness in her black pupils with careless indifference, and nodded lazily.

Gu Rou’s smile widened, and she gently inclined her head. Her slender neck and skin, smooth as cream, made her beauty surpass that of the two sisters from the main branch of the Gu family.

Gu Fei’s lips curled slightly; in her deep, shadowed eyes, an unfathomable inkiness stirred, betraying nothing of her thoughts. Her fingertips traced the wheelchair’s armrest in slow, endless circles.

With Gu Rou’s conciliatory presence, even Gu Wanting lost her earlier sharpness. Gu Wanxiu, as expected, remained calm. The four entered the room together to pay their respects to Madam Cui.

Madam Cui was indeed unwell, lying on the couch, half propped up. Her face was pale, lips dry and cracked, a far cry from the healthy vitality she had displayed just days prior. Seeing that Gu Fei had come as well, she appeared entirely unsurprised, even offering Gu Fei a special smile that displayed the full warmth of a kindly elder.

The three stayed in Madam Cui’s room for half the day. Gu Wanting and Gu Wanxiu attended to her closely, offering water and medicine without hesitation, and even Gu Rou stepped forward to wipe Madam Cui’s face and cleanse her hands.

Only Gu Fei, seated in her wheelchair, kept her distance. She even held a cup of tea, sipping leisurely from time to time, her demeanor that of a spectator at a play.

No one dared command her to do anything. Her mobility was impaired, and if she failed to serve properly and caused a scene, it would only worsen Madam Cui’s condition. Thus, everyone simply pretended she did not exist.

She was content with this freedom, showing not a trace of the embarrassment most people would feel.

Near noon, Master Gu Zhong returned from outside. Upon entering, he saw Gu Fei first and paused for a moment, then, with a stern and imposing face, nodded to the others, sat beside the bed, and took Madam Cui’s hand to inquire gently after her health.

A faint flush appeared on Madam Cui’s cheeks, perhaps from feeling awkward as Gu Zhong showed concern in front of the younger generation. Yet the sweetness that bubbled in her heart made the attention more than welcome.

Gu Fei’s gaze lingered on their clasped hands. After a long time, she lowered her head to look at her own hands, her eyes half-shut, lost in thought for quite a while.

It was only when Gu Rou called her at lunchtime that her senses cleared in an instant, realizing the others were watching her with a hint of curiosity.

Unperturbed, she nodded farewell to Gu Zhong and Madam Cui, and left Peony Court with the others.

The Gu family did not split branches; even meals were shared between the main and second households, with men and women separated by screens. Only after Master Gu Zhong gave the signal did the family begin to eat, instilling the tradition of silent meals deep into their bones.

This rule, too, had been brought from Madam Cui’s maiden home.

Qingmo Pavilion had its own kitchen. Gu Fei, still recuperating, ate differently from the others, so after leaving Peony Court, she parted ways with Gu Rou and the rest.

On the way back to Qingmo Pavilion, seeing no one around, Danqing quietly leaned close to Gu Fei’s ear and whispered, “Miss, I overheard in the main house this morning that the Taoist suddenly died in the woodshed yesterday. No one in the manor dared make a fuss; Master ordered the body to be quietly removed and thrown hastily into the wild graveyard.”

As she spoke, even in broad daylight, Danqing felt a chill run down her spine, as if the Taoist’s vengeful spirit was watching her from some unknown place.

She shivered, glanced around, and seeing servants approaching, quickly calmed herself, pretending nothing was amiss as she pushed Gu Fei forward.

Gu Fei tapped the armrest with her fingers, her jade-like face expressionless. Only her black-and-white eyes, strangely dark, seemed to hold a soul-consuming vortex—anyone who looked too long would be lost forever.

“How did he die?” she asked after a long pause.

Danqing’s eyes flickered. “They said he hanged himself.”

Upon hearing this, Gu Fei’s lips curled in a silent smile.

That day, the Taoist had been beaten unconscious several times, and Nurse Ku had shattered his legs with a wooden bucket. The injuries were not apparent to outsiders, but Gu Fei knew well: once Nurse Ku laid hands on someone, the damage would be severe yet leave no obvious trace.

For a man so gravely injured, both legs broken, standing would have been impossible—how could he have hanged himself? It made no sense.

Gu Fei needed no further thought; he had simply been silenced.

But by whom? And for what reason? These questions were worth pondering. Gu Fei suddenly realized that the waters of the Gu family ran deeper and murkier than she had ever imagined.

Yet—

Her smile grew brighter, like the sun in spring, flecks of light dancing on her pale face, though beneath it lurked a coldness.

The deeper and murkier the water, the better to catch fish.

Upon returning to Qingmo Pavilion, Gu Fei found an opportunity to send Nurse Ku to the wild graveyard, hoping to find some clue on the Taoist’s body.

She knew many matters could not be rushed. For now, she set them aside. She had only just shown herself at the Gu family; to secure her position, she must first pass the blood-kin recognition ceremony. Master Gu Zhong had not said when this would take place, but Gu Fei knew it would be soon.

Indeed, it was not long. She had barely rested when Danqing came to wake her.

Having not slept well, her expression was cold, a suppressed anger radiating a low pressure, like the calm before a storm, unsettling Danqing greatly.

“Miss, Master is waiting in the hall,” Danqing reported, kneeling, heart pounding.

Hearing this, Gu Fei’s aura shifted, warming slightly but still not cheerful. “Uncle? Do you know the reason?”

Danqing stood and shook her head, hastily tidying Gu Fei’s loosened hair and smoothing the wrinkles from her skirt. “No.”

Gu Fei took a deep breath, rubbing her aching brow, closed her eyes to compose herself, and when she opened them again, was once more clear-minded. “Push me to the flower hall.”

In the flower hall, Master Gu Zhong stood at the center with his hands clasped behind his back. Tall and slender, dressed in a sapphire robe and a broad belt with a hidden pattern of gold ingots, he possessed the shrewdness and calculation unique to a seasoned merchant.

Gu Fei entered, motioned for Danqing to prepare tea, and stood at the threshold of the hall, bathed in sunlight, speaking first: “Fei greets Uncle. Your visit is sudden—has something occurred?”