The Marquis Mansion's Elite Class-Chapter 408

Zong Zhao gazed deeply at her and responded with a single word: "Alright."

In the small courtyard.

Cui Zhi followed them but was stopped at the door: "By the Old Madam's order, no one is permitted to approach the courtyard."

Cui Zhi was stunned.

What was happening? Such a grand commotion.

Xu Wan understood. She turned to Cui Zhi and said, "Wait outside for now."

"Yes."

Xu Wan, arm in arm with Zong Zhao, entered and saw the elderly couple—one standing, one seated—both wearing expressions darker than the other. The atmosphere in the room was suffocating.

Xu Wan released Zong Zhao's hand and stepped forward, speaking softly to the Old Madam, "Mother-in-law, you look unwell. Let me take you to rest and have some food."

The Old Madam waved her off. "No need. I'm neither hungry nor tired. I'll stay and listen here."

Xu Wan's heart sank.

Her instincts told her they were in for a harsh interrogation.

The Old Marquis, a blunt and hot-tempered man, confronted Zong Zhao directly: "Are the deaths of Zhao Yumin, Ma Congzhang, and Zong Qiyun connected to you?"

The man standing before them was the General of the Western Garrison—their most accomplished son and the only one still alive. The Old Marquis had never wanted to suspect him, but these three bloody incidents were too bizarre.

Earlier that day, he had visited Zong Qiyun's home and learned that the other two had also reported their cases to the judicial office, only for the investigations to conclude with "death by illness."

Three mysterious deaths, all brushed aside effortlessly by the judicial office—such influence was rare even in the capital.

Zong Zhao denied it flatly, his expression unreadable. "No."

The Old Marquis and Old Madam had always trusted his word without question, but this time, his swift denial was impossible to believe.

The Old Marquis barked, "No? If there's no connection, why did Zong Qiyun, who hasn’t visited us in years, suddenly demand to see you yesterday? And why did he die in the streets right after leaving our home, without even stepping foot in his own house?"

The room was tense, the silence deafening.

Zong Zhao replied calmly, "His reason, as he stated yesterday, was to warn us against being deceived by those two, lest we grieve needlessly. As for why he died in the streets—if even the judicial office claims it was illness, how would I know?"

The Old Marquis paced furiously. "Fine! So you 'don’t know'? Then tell me, what did you mean by that question you asked him yesterday? Why bring up Zong Yan out of nowhere? What really happened between you all in the military?"

Zong Zhao's lashes flickered slightly. "Just minor conflicts. We can handle them."

The Old Marquis was frantic, but his son's composed responses made his skin crawl with frustration. Never a skilled debater, he couldn’t out-argue his son.

Finally, the Old Madam spoke. Her eyes red, she stood on trembling legs and asked in a shaky voice, "Zhao'er, tell me… was Zong Yan's death… related to them?"

The world hailed Zong Yan as a war hero, a martyr for the nation—but to her, he was her child, the one she had prayed for, carried for ten months, and brought into this world.

All she wanted was the truth.

Zong Zhao clenched his fingers, maintaining his composure. "No."

"You're ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‍lying." Tears finally spilled from the Old Madam’s eyes as she stepped closer to her towering son. "Zhao'er, I know your tells. You’re lying… It was them, wasn’t it? Zong Yan didn’t die in battle—he was killed by them, wasn’t he? By those uncles of yours."

Zong Zhao’s heart ached. He wanted to say yes, but he couldn’t. His parents were old; such a blow would devastate them.

His voice trembled. "No. Mother, don’t speak nonsense. Our uncles would never—"

Slap!

A strike landed before she could stop herself.

Zong Zhao’s face jerked to the side, the unspoken words swallowed back.

Perhaps this was better. At least he wouldn’t have to force out more lies.

It was the first time Zong Zhao had ever been struck. Since childhood, he had been exemplary—the perfect son, never giving his parents a moment’s worry, praised by all in the capital.

But now, the Old Madam couldn’t hold back. She knew he was lying, even as he denied them the truth they so desperately sought.

Xu Wan gasped and rushed forward, shielding Zong Zhao. "Mother-in-law, please calm down! Zong Zhao hasn’t done anything wrong—don’t treat him like this!"

But the Old Madam was beyond reason. She cried out, "Speak! Tell us the truth! We’re your parents—don’t we have the right to know?"

Zong Zhao’s voice was thick with sorrow. "The truth is what I’ve said. Zong Yan died for his country. Our uncles had nothing to do with it. You’re imagining things."

"Fine! If you won’t talk—" The Old Marquis had had enough. He grabbed Zong Zhao roughly and dragged him out.

"Father-in-law!" Xu Wan tried to follow.

The Old Madam held her back, refusing to let her interfere.

Though aged, the old woman’s grip was strong. Xu Wan dared not struggle too hard, fearing she might hurt her. "Mother-in-law, the judicial office ruled it natural causes! Why torment Zong Zhao like this? The whole household will hear of this!"

The Old Madam met her daughter-in-law’s eyes, her own brimming with tears. "Because I’m not just Zong Zhao’s mother—I’m Zong Yan’s mother too." She released Xu Wan and hurried after them.

Xu Wan followed, asking Cui Liu outside, "Did the Old Marquis leave the estate?"

"No, they went toward the rear courtyard."

"The rear?" Xu Wan thought quickly—too many ears along the way. "Gather all the servants and dismiss them. No one is to speak of today’s events. Anyone who disobeys will be handed to Mother Zhao for immediate sale."

"Yes!" Cui Liu scurried off to relay the orders.

Xu Wan rushed after them.

The Zong family ancestral hall.

The Old Marquis hauled Zong Zhao inside and shoved him forward. Before him stood rows of ancestral tablets—but one stood out, the one he had cleaned and gazed upon countless times…

"Zong Yan…" His voice was hoarse.

The Old Madam and Xu Wan arrived moments later.

They watched as the Old Marquis lifted Zong Yan’s tablet and thrust it before Zong Zhao, his voice merciless. "Go on. Say it again—right in front of your brother." freёwebnoѵel.com

The Old Madam covered her mouth, but her sobs escaped.

Xu Wan was stunned. The Old Marquis knew Zong Zhao too well—Zong Yan was their weakness, and his. Only this would cut deep enough.

Zong Zhao froze, then stumbled back.

He wanted to flee.

The Old Marquis gripped him tightly, forcing Zong Zhao to face the memorial tablet of Zong Yan. With bloodshot eyes, he demanded, "Before this tablet, say it again—say that your brother Zong Yan died in battle for his country, that he fell defending our land, that his death was honorable and untarnished! Say that his fate had nothing to do with your three uncles!"

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