Aunt sobbed into her handkerchief. “We only had time to see your mother one last time. She was unconscious, but her body was still warm.”
Wenxi clung to her aunt, both of them trembling with grief. Su Zhengfeng turned away and took his glasses off to wipe his eyes.
Jiang Beihuai felt the ache as if it were his own. Losing a parent was a wound that never healed smoothly; he knew the pain of standing on that precipice.
Between sobs, Wenxi read aloud from the notes her mother had kept during her illness. “Mom used to praise Yao Chunmei in her diary. She said Yao would take care of her clothes, meals, and the house—very respectful to her.”
Aunt’s face flushed with rage. “That’s how she worked it. Your father wouldn’t let her into the Bai household at first; the elders never accepted her either. So she went straight to your mother and told her she didn’t mind being the second woman. Your mother was already sick—Yao stayed to ‘help’ and never left. If she hadn’t acted so humble, your mother never would have agreed.”
Wenxi hesitated, then reluctantly brought up Bai Yunxi’s heated outburst. “That day Yunxi shouted that Yao Chunmei ruined my mother…”
She felt her skin crawl as she said it. “Before she died, Mom was only with Yao Chunmei and one housemaid. My father and I never thought much of it back then.”
Her voice wavered as if she was afraid to believe what followed. “To be honest…she took my mother’s inheritance and pushed my father out of the way. Every detail makes me sick. After hearing Yunxi’s words, I almost believed her.”
Su Zhengfeng adjusted his glasses and spoke firmly. “You suspect Yao Chunmei poisoned Xingfei?”
Jiang, who had been quiet until now, cut in unexpectedly. “It’s very likely she did.”
Wenxi startled at the certainty in his voice. “Why do you say that?”
Jiang had planned to bury the memory forever, but now that his mother-in-law’s death might be at stake, he couldn’t keep silent. He swallowed and met the heavy, expectant gazes of the family.
“Before I was taken back into the Jiang family, I worked as a lifeguard on the beach. That’s when Yunxi met me.” He hesitated, then plunged on. “We dated for a while, but she grew bored. One night in a bar she set her sights on a friend of mine. He was drunk…when he woke up, he was sick. He wanted to sue her. She’d slipped a special drug into his food. He soon slipped into depression and became physically ill.”
Sweat dotted Jiang’s forehead; his back was soaked. “I can’t say for sure if his organs failed—we were poor and couldn’t afford thorough hospital tests—but all the symptoms were there. He got weaker and weaker. When I confronted Yunxi, she showed off that drug like it was a trophy.”
Wenxi’s head swam at the possibility that her mother had been a victim of the same substance. Jiang’s nostrils flared at the injustice to his friend.
“I wanted to call the police,” Jiang went on, “but my friend begged me not to. Yunxi paid him off, a large sum, and he and his girlfriend disappeared to another town.”
Wenxi folded into Jiang’s chest and listened to the steady thump of his heartbeat.
“After that night at the hotel I understood what I was up against,” Jiang said wryly, the smile gone from his face. “Wenxi, you know how things went after—she left me, and I turned on you for thinking I was the wrong man.”
Su Zhengfeng saw the torment in his friend’s eyes. Jiang had promised not to speak, but for Wenxi he’d broken his vow. The lawyer in Su Zhengfeng felt the familiar stir: if Yao Chunmei had done harm, he would use every legal tool at his disposal to make her pay and restore his sister’s honor.
Aunt slammed her fist against the cup she was holding until her knuckles left white crescents. “Those two—the snake and her daughter! I’m going to find them.”
Su Zhengfeng hurried to calm her. “You can’t go rushing in. It’s been years. There’s no evidence now—do you really think Yao Chunmei will confess?”
Jiang offered a practical suggestion. “Do you still have your mother’s medical book?”
Wenxi forced herself to think clearly and retraced the facts. “Dad brought home her medical records and discharge slips at the time. They were stored in the old Bai family mansion’s basement. I don’t know if Senior bought the place and cleared it out.”
Su Zhengfeng gave his niece a small, approving smile. “Wenxi, you’re steadier than I expected. That helps.”
“If the paper trail’s gone, we’ll have to go to the hospital and request her files. Get the attending doctors to reopen archives,” Wenxi said. She’d already rehearsed the steps in her head.
Jiang wanted to help uncover the truth more than anything. After a long struggle, he offered, “If it will help, I can try to find my old friend and ask him to testify.”
Wenxi gripped his hand as if to anchor herself. “Bei Huai—don’t put yourself through that. You’ve already done too much for me. Don’t let this destroy the friendship between you.”
Su Zhengfeng’s eyes clouded at the thought of his late sister. He wanted justice as fiercely as Wenxi did. If they could prove Yao Chunmei had poisoned Su Xingfei, he’d mobilize every resource—his connections, his legal expertise—to right the wrong.
Aunt was impatient. “Tomorrow we go to the old Bai house. I’ll make Yao Chunmei pay! Poor little sister—she might have reconciled with Zhongxun if Yao Chunmei hadn’t slithered in and stolen him first. In the end she was left heartbroken and divorced.”
Wenxi shook her head. She didn’t think Yao Chunmei was the only one to blame. Her father had failed to stand by her mother. As a husband he should have been accountable. If he’d held to his principles, no amount of seduction would have driven him away—or given her mother cause to refuse returning to the Bai household out of concern for an illegitimate child.
Jiang nodded. “I think the same. But it’s hard to say that in front of your aunt. She’s set on blaming the other woman and always protects your father.”
Wenxi met him with steady eyes. “If someday you don’t want to be with me, just tell me. I don’t want to end up like my parents—living apart, dragging things out until everything falls apart.”
Jiang couldn’t help it—he gave her a playful, chastising flick on the forehead that left her with a small sting. She pressed her hand to her brow, tears blurring her smile. “You’re bullying me because I’m alone? I’ll go complain to my uncle and aunt.”
Jiang seized her in a long-armed tug and pulled her into his chest. As she squirmed half in anger and half in laughter, he scolded, “Don’t say that. Can’t you imagine us being together for a long time?”
She melted. “Are you scared? I was only making a hypothetical.”
He kissed her in a flurry of exasperation and warning. “Hypotheticals aren’t allowed. Say one more thing like that and I’ll kiss you in front of everyone.”
In the dim corner of the stairwell they held each other. The kiss, brief and fierce, sent little electric shocks through them both—warm and urgent, the kind of touch that made the rest of the world fall away.